[text] to say goodbye
It hurts to type it out, a sick feeling settling low in his gut. Leonard doesnāt want to say goodbye, but he canāt keep being the selfish one. He justā¦needs this.Ā
He keeps silent for another long pause. Minutes instead of hours this time.
[text] fine. When&where?
This is going to hurt, itās going to be like sticking a hot poker in a wound, pretending youāre cauterizing it. But Scotty wants there to be something, something that either proves Leonard McCoy was a complete bastard all along so he can move on with his life, orā¦ Or what?Ā
"Goddamit," he mutters out, through his hands as he drops backwards onto the mattress.
[text] Now. You know where.
The bar they always met at. The place where he'd actually slumped onto a stool and met the Scotsman for the very first time.
Doesn't hurt that he's already there, shoulders hunched up and two glasses of bourbon in, back in a dark booth.
