"Spock… please," Jim couldn't even feel ashamed at the pleading in his voice. He saw Nyota look away, uncomfortable. Spock merely looked at him, his expression unreadable.

"Captain, I am not sure it is wise to enter the subconscious-"

"I can't… I can't sit here for another week. We have to try. God, Spock, we need him back," Jim said, his hand squeezing Bones' tightly as he spoke, but his eyes never leaving Spock's. The Vulcan glanced down briefly.

"It is unlikely that Doctor McCoy's mind will accept you, Captain. It is more likely to fight against your intrusion-"

"I'll take that chance," Jim cut him off again. His eyes burned brightly as he wondered if this was going to be his last chance to try to save Bones. If this didn't work…

"Captain, why is this so important to you? Why must you do it yourself? There are others better trained on the Enterprise," Spock said, his voice annoyingly level. Jim looked away at that, down at his hand clasping Bones' limp one.

It wasn't friendship, it was something more. Something that had always skirted on the edges of their interactions, something they had never acknowledged except in the privacy of their own heads. He looked up at Spock, steeling his resolve and ignoring the fact that Nyota hovered behind him.

"Because I never told him, Spock," he said, and left it still unsaid. He'd be damned if he said it to anyone else before he told Bones. Spock's expression seemed to soften imperceptibly at that and he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"This will be difficult but if you are sure," Spock said and he reached forward, his fingertips brushing against Jim's face. The minute Spock also made contact with McCoy's face, Jim heard the words of the Vulcan mind meld but was swept away into the depths of Bones' mind.

At first it was terrifying. It felt like drowning as Bones' mind sent barrage after barrage of images, fleeting and transient. Jim couldn't even grasp at one before another was moving, overpowering it.

Suddenly it stopped and Jim knew that it must be Spock helping steady him. He didn't have any training in things like this, had no idea what he was doing, but he figured that since the mind wasn't a particularly physical space, that it would be a case of visualising in order to get around.

He concentrated on Bones, on the living, breathing, grumpy version of Bones that had existed up until a week and a half ago. He concentrated on the way the other's eyes had looked when he fought half-heartedly with Spock, on the way his hand curled around a glass of bourbon, on the way his lips curled into a smile whenever Jim cracked a joke at his own expense.

Jim suddenly found himself standing in a field. In the distance the sun was setting. He ran his hand over the long grass, slightly surprised that it felt real. He could feel the heat of the dying sun against his skin and the scent of summer rising from the fields. Horses paced at the far end of the paddock, their tails flicking restlessly.

He turned to his left to see a rather large farmhouse, painted white. He was about to turn to it when he heard the sound of laughter. He turned and grinned when he saw Bones. He looked younger though, his face less lined, his frame less muscular.

Jim walked towards him, cutting a path across the field to where Bones was stood, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck. It was only when Jim got closer that he heard the high, childish voice that was making Bones laugh.

Joanna McCoy was older than she appeared here. Here she was a toddler, rolling around in the grass in a romper suit and picking buttercups out of the long grass. Jim paused, looking at the scene, before pressing on.

This wasn't real, but it was a memory, one that Bones had retreated to.

"Bones," he called. The man turned, responding to the name that he would not have known during this time. It was surreal, watching McCoy age before him, going from the young man of moments before, to the sadder, harder man he had become. Jim could feel his heart lurch.

"Jim? What are you doing here? You don't live in Georgia," Bones said and Jim guessed that he was probably going to have to deal with that kind of dream logic. He came to a stop beside Bones, looking down at Joanna as she continued to collect as many buttercups and daisies as her little fists could hold.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't live in Georgia. You know, you don't live in Georgia either," he said. He hated himself for saying it, looking down at Joanna and the world that Bones must have inhabited before his life fell apart around him.

"What are you talking about Jim?" Bones asked, laughing slightly. Jim turned to Bones and put his hand on the other's shoulder.

"I'm on the Enterprise, Bones. By your bed. Waiting for you to wake up," he said, his voice soft. He knew if he spoke loudly it would crack.

"What are you talking about, Jim? The Enterprise hasn't even been finished yet," Bones said, waving a hand dismissively and trying to shake Jim's hand off his shoulder.

"Oh? Why am I here then, Bones? I don't belong here do I? I didn't meet you until after all this. After the divorce," Jim put his other hand on Bones' shoulder, forcing the man to look away from Joanna and to him. He saw the other scowl, starting to look angry.

"I don't know what you're talking about Jim," he said and Jim had to dig his fingers in to stop McCoy pulling away. Joanna started to cry, the sound of her distress making Jim feel sick to the stomach.

"Don't you remember Bones?" he asked. He could see Bones starting to panic and knew instinctively that he couldn't let him get to Joanna, couldn't let Bones touch her, lest he retreat back into his own head.

"Bones, I'm waiting for you. You've got to come back," Jim said insistently. A wind picked up around them, making the long grass ripple. Jim tried to ignore it, his blue eyes focused on Bones' own.

"Jim, Joanna needs me. Let go," Bones struggled but Jim moved forward at that moment, invading his personal space. He grabbed the back of Bones' neck, forcing him forward, their faces inches apart.

"Remember me. Remember the Enterprise. Remember saving me. Remember me, come back to me, please," Jim whispered, wondering if his words were lost on the wind when Bones' scowl didn't disappear.

Desperation clawed in him and he did the only thing he could, crushing his lips against the doctor's. There was a brief moment of resistance, but him held him in place, forcing their lips together harshly.

There was a crack of thunder and Joanna's crying ceased. Jim felt Bones start to respond against him, lips brushing against his now. He felt a thrill go through him as Bones' tongue skimmed his lips and he opened his mouth-

"Ahem, Captain?"

Jim broke away with a small amount of shock. Spock was stood there, eyebrow raised, arms clasped behind his back. He didn't let go of Bones, terrified that if he did, Bones would retreat again.

"It is best that we retrieve Doctor McCoy now. I am sure you can continue this… conversation, at an appropriate time in the doctor's recovery in your actual body," Spock said, his voice sounding… Vulcan-amused.

Jim looked at Bones and saw the look of frustration and horror on his face. He guessed that being caught making out by Spock wasn't on his lips of things to get caught doing.

"Bones…? Are you coming with me?" Jim asked, hoping that he'd done enough, hoping that he was enough.

"Yes, Jim, I'm coming with you."

When Jim opened his eyes beside Bones' bed, there was a flurry of activity. People were taking readings and readying different kinds of drips. Nyota's eyes were watery as she threaded her hand through Spock's hair and hugged him.

Bones' eyes were open, looking at him blearily. Jim smiled and leaned forward so that only the two of them could hear.

"Welcome home, Bones."