LEONARD MCCOY

👋 I’m still alive.

❛ I’m sorry I bit you… and pulled your hair… and punched you in the face… ❜

fear of death is what keeps us a l i v e.

Leaving me behind will significantly increase your chances of survival, Doctor. Well that’s damn chivalrous of you, but completely out of the question.

                 NOW was a point where the Vulcan felt this slight amount of ANGER within him. He was trying to help, and it got wiped away like it was a bit of DUST. Leaning down to McCoy, Spock placed his hands on the armrests of the chair the Doctor was sitting in. Usually, Spock would not get THAT close to someone, but he felt like he HAD to in order for the Doctor to understand what he meant. “ Listen to me, Leonard, I know that you do not think THAT highly of me, but I do CARE about you and your wellbeing, we are a part of the same crew after all “ he began, eyes locked with those of the Doctor. “ but even though I do not hold the title of a Doctor - I can SEE that something is wrong, and you can not play it down like THAT. So you either listen to me and REST or deal with your panic alone “  

                Ragged breath hitched and fingers froze upon the sudden proximity of the other. He hadn’t seen it coming, the frustration, the slight anger now present --- too focused on his own inability to breathe to realise he had perhaps crossed a line, pulled too hard on the elastic that was the vulcan’s patience. It was all too rare that Spock ever breached his personal space, Leonard knew he appreciated his own and practised what he preached... And yet, here they were, compacted in such a small space, it was damn near impossible not to meet his gaze or accept the words directed at him. Spock was right, after all. He did have a lot of pride, too much to willingly sign himself up for a damn lesson on self care --- at the same time, he had little to no desire to be alone, especially in his current condition. Unsteady fingers latched onto the material of Spock’s shirt, unsure if he wanted to keep him close or push him away, far more uncertain whether he had the energy to do the latter. “So, you do care, huh? News to me.” His panic had not subsided but at the same time it no longer controlled him. He found he could breathe, to an extent. He wasn’t certain if he had Spock to thank for that but there was no way he planned to give him any kind of further satisfaction by letting him in on that information.

❝  my turn. ❞

               Confusion creased Pavel’s forehead, the young Russian doubting himself for a moment ( as if he hadn’t been entirely sure the Southern accent, laced with the USUAL grumpiness, had belonged to Bones ), before his features smoothed out. Mustering up all of his confidence, Pavel’s arms crossed over his chest. “You are lying to me, sir,” he said, a small smirk now lifting his lips, head cocking to the side. “I know for a fact it was you — I recorded it, in fact. Would you like me to replay it? In case you forgot some of the important parts?”

                Leonard watched with a smug sense of pride as those soft brows knit themselves together, lips twitching with briefest sense of relief in response to the young russian’s confusion. Of course, he should have known better than to think he could get away from his previous embarrassment so damn easily. His own brows furrowed, frustration buried just beneath the surface at the sight of the smirk that seemingly found such an easy place on Chekov’s lips. “Lying to you, huh?” The brunette mused for a moment, with every plan of continuously rejecting his accusations --- until the other made it clear he had him over a barrel. There was no way in hell he could protest evidence like that. “I- no. That won’t be necessary. Rather the entire bridge wasn’t made aware of my humiliation, thanks.” The words passed his lips in a grumble, a heavy glare setting into his features. “Sure you enjoyed yourself enough last night.”