Thirty-seven days.
Leonard knows how long it's been since he's seen Jim because it's written on the note taped to his front door that morning when he goes out to his car.
He stares at it, stares and frowns and thinks, What the actual fuck is this?
It's simply a piece of paper, folded in half. And he knows the handwriting. He wishes he didn't know it, but it's unmistakable.
He opens the note and reads:
Day thirty-seven:
I miss the way you smile.
He stands there on his porch, staring at the note and refusing to let his brain begin wondering anything.
He gets in his car, and goes to work.
Day 58:
I miss the way your hair felt right after you showered.
Leonard folds the second note up and slips it into his pocket.
Day 82:
I miss your eyes, and the way they look in the middle of a sunny field.
Leonard uses his free afternoon to go stand in the middle of his back yard, face tilted towards the sky. The wind blows through his hair, and he pretends it's Jim's fingers.
Day 113:
I miss the way your lips felt against my cheek when you thought I was asleep.
Leonard spends the rest of the afternoon drinking most of a bottle of bourbon. He doesn't remember how he got upstairs, and he thinks that might be for the best.
Day 120:
I miss hearing you yell at me.
Leonard burns his hand on the stove and shouts, "Dammit, Jim!" He tells himself the tears are because of the trauma to his skin.
Day 134:
I miss the feeling of you inside me.
Leonard gasps as he jerks off, Jim's name on his lips as he comes, and the note crumpled in his left hand.
Day 149:
I miss the way you would steal all the covers.
Leonard turns the AC up, and pulls out an extra blanket that night.
Day 166:
I miss the way your arm curled around my waist while we slept.
Leonard wraps his arms around himself as he goes to sleep that night, and tries to convince himself that he's ever been fine sleeping alone.
Day 191:
I miss the way we would watch the stars from Observation Deck B when no one else was around.
Leonard climbs onto the roof that night and talks to the sky.
Day 215:
I miss weekly dinners with Spock, Uhura, and you.
Leonard makes so much food, he brings it with him to the hospital to share. He sits with his co-workers and talks for what feels like the first time ever.
It feels remarkably good.
Day 234:
I miss the way you would light up when you talked about some research project you were starting.
Leonard pulls out some old medical texts he'd been reading at one point, and flips through them, laughing at some of the horrendously outdated techniques.
Day 253:
I miss the way you look in jeans.
Leonard works in the yard, and doesn't wear a shirt. The sun is hot, and his jeans are damn-near threadbare, but at the end of the day his lawn is mowed and his hedges are clipped, and he thinks they look pretty good.
Day 277:
I miss the excitement of seeing the door opening and knowing it was you coming in.
Leonard opens the windows and doors, and sleeps with the fresh breeze and scent of peaches washing over him.
Day 298:
I miss running with you.
Leonard laces up his sneakers and jogs for as far as he can, and then pushes himself further. Then he jogs back, past home, and turns around again.
Day 302:
I miss the way your fingers fit between mine.
Leonard falls asleep on the couch that afternoon with his fingers laced together and a tall glass of sweet tea on the coffee table.
Day 310:
I miss seeing you.
Leonard avoids every mirror he can that day.
Day 314:
I miss holding you.
Leonard wraps himself up in his favourite sweater, and curls up in the arm chair with a book.
Day 329:
I miss my bridge. I miss your sickbay. I miss our ship.
Leonard looks through old holos of the group of them - Chekov grinning brightly and Sulu smirking and Scotty dancing terribly.
Spock and Nyota's wedding ceremony.
Chapel's engagement. Carol Marcus's promotion to Commander and appointment to oversee the weapons development program at Starfleet, London.
Keenser perched atop every possible surface he could fit.
Jim and Leonard on shore leave.
The group of them in their dress uniforms. The group of them in civilian clothes. The group of them just after getting off shift and sharing a meal in the mess hall.
Gaila in her academy reds. Leonard lets his fingers run over the image as he thinks about her and he wishes she'd been on Enterprise when Nero attacked.
He looks at the walls in the house, and rolls up his sleeves.
Day 351:
I miss you.
Day 365:
Have you missed me?
Day 366:
I love you.
Leonard holds the note in his hands and closes his eyes.
"Just come home already, kid."
Day 387:
I can't do this anymore.
Leonard hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose against the frustration and anger and utter inability to do anything.
Day 388:
This is the last note you'll get. Thank you, Bones. I love you. I love you so much. Remember that, OK?
Leonard reads the note, and makes his peace with it. Then he makes his breakfast. Brews coffee. Sits at his small table and eats while he reads the latest news feeds on his PADD, Jim's last note sitting on the table beside his napkin. He finishes his cereal, tips back his mug, and washes them immediately, sets them to dry in the rack.
He opens all the windows in the house and breathes in the crisp Autumn air. He sweeps and dusts and straightens the holos on the walls. He shelves a few old books that had been lying around, and smiles as he steps outside. The sun is bright and warm on his face in contrast to the slight chill in the air when the breeze picks up.
He rakes up falling leaves, mows his lawn. Sweeps off the wrap-around porch.
He showers and settles into one of the comfortable deck chairs on the porch at the back of the house, a book and a glass of sweet tea in his hands and nothing but time.
He skips lunch, so he eats a bit more at dinner to make up for it, knowing that it's not the best idea but unable to bring himself to care overly much at the moment.
He locks the doors but leaves the windows open, and pulls out an extra blanket when he goes to bed. He's asleep for almost an hour when he hears the knocking at the door.
He bolts upright, heart pounding as he listens.
And then, there it is again, faint but real.
He pads down the stairs in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and opens the door.
Jim stares at him.
"Bones."
"Jim."
Jim swallows and asks, "Can I, uh… can I come in?"
Leonard nods and steps back. "Sure."
Jim steps in, looking around. He smiles as he sees the holos on the walls. "Love what you've done with the place."
Leonard snorts as he shuts the door. "It's not a fresh coat of paint, but I think it does alright."
Jim turns back to him, grinning widely. Leonard stands there, waiting. Jim's smile falters, and he looks down, sighs. "I'm sorry."
Leonard shakes his head. "For what?"
Jim looks up at him. "Right now? For the last three-hundred and eighty-eight days I didn't see you. In about five-minutes, I'll be sorry for the two and a half years we didn't talk after I left that morning."
Leonard takes a careful step forward. "And after that?"
Jim steps closer. Leonard mirrors him. "After that, I'll be sorry I didn't tell you everything sooner."
They're nearly touching now. Leonard swallows as he looks in Jim's eyes and says, "Relationships - all kinds of relationships - require trust."
Jim nods. "I'm ready to trust you. I'm ready to prove you can trust me."
Leonard reaches up and presses his palm to Jim's cheek, lets his fingertips dance through Jim's short hair. "This is a big obligation. It's not gonna be easy, and half the time we're gonna be worried about messing it up, while the other half the time we probably will mess it up, and can we just skip all of that right now?"
Jim's eyes went wide. "Bones?"
"Can we just skip to the part where you come to bed and I don't worry about waking up alone?" Leonard leans in, kisses Jim softly. Jim's lips are warm and a little dry and Leonard breathes in deeply when he pulls back, opening his eyes and waiting for Jim's response. "I love you."
Jim stares at him, a slow smile forming on his lips. "Really?"
Leonard grins. "Yeah, though heaven only knows why, you insufferable brat."
Jim laughs quietly, closes his eyes and leans in for another kiss.
"Come to bed, Jim."
Leonard pulls away and links his hand with Jim's, leads him towards the stairs. Jim comes along without resistance.
Leonard pushes him onto the bed, climbs in beside him, pulls him close and whispers against his skin as he pulls Jim's t-shirt off. Jim's hands skim along his waist, fingers trailing just under the hem of his shirt.
"I love you, Leonard."
Leonard raises an eyebrow and asks, "…have you ever called me that before?"
Jim licks his lips and says, "No."
Leonard nods. "I didn't think so."
Jim's hand goes over his heart, and he asks, "Can you ever forgive me?"
Leonard says, "Stay with me and find out."
Jim smiles.
Day 1:
I know you didn't want to wake up alone. I know I said yesterday was the last note you'd get. I'm sorry. Forgive me.
Leonard reads the note just as his bedroom door opens, and Jim walks in with a tray.
Leonard looks up and licks his lips as the scent from the tray hits him. Jim grins.
"I wasn't sure what to make you, so, uh…" Jim sets the tray over Leonard's legs and steps back, scratching idly at his neck. "I thought we could share."
Eggs, pancakes, bacon, biscuits… Leonard looks at the tray, then back at the note, then up at Jim.
"I love you."
Jim leans over and kisses him. "I love you, too."
First Story: "The Past Is Gone, But Something Might Be Found (To Take Its Place)"
Second Story: "Nothin's Wrong Just As Long As You Know (That Someday I Will)"