"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts. . ."

Spock found himself at a long prairie like area. There was a tall field of golden but soft, thin like grass similar whisps. Saw the shape of a head in the distance laid on the edge. Spock came forth until the color of the head was clear to be brown. McCoy was laid on a hill watching the clouds pass by. The scenery felt real, so real, and very . . . unique. Mind melds were like digging deeper into ones mind that were often like diving into water and getting into them. Where memories and knowledge laid coming into his mind that formed words or scenes. McCoy's mind was a calm, easy going scenery. He saw a series of houses in the distance form the shape of a 'u'. Spock made his way toward the doctor where he came to a stop along his side then sat down.

"Hello there," McCoy said. His baby blue eyes looking over toward the Vulcan. "how are ya?"

"I am adequate, doctor," Spock said.

"Call me Len," McCoy said. He looked slyly toward the Vulcan. "if we are goin' to be friends."

"Indeed," Spock said.

"So, how is my cancer?" McCoy asked. Now Spock understood why they were lying to him.

"It is a abnormal growth," Spock said.

"People said square asses were abnormal," McCoy grumbled.

"They were wrong," Spock said.

"Therefore I have cancer," McCoy said.

"Negative," Spock said. "cancer is curable. This is removable."

"And it is growin'," McCoy said. "my head is goin' to be full of it. It is gonna kill me."

"Slowly but surely," Spock said.

"Is this how humans felt like in the past when it couldn't be cured?" McCoy asked. "Hopeless?"

"They will remove it," Spock said.

"What if they do and I ain't the same anymore?" McCoy asked, looking over toward the Vulcan with concern on his face.

"You will rebound," Spock said. "as your ancestors did with cancer."

"Hmph," McCoy hummed.

"Did you know your grandfather, Thomas Jackson McCoy, went against cancer not once but twice?" Spock asked.

McCoy turned his head away from the Vulcan.

"I . . . I never pegged him as a cancer survivor," McCoy said.

"Given that your ancestor, your name sake, was with him during his ailment that means he was not alone in this," Spock said. McCoy looked up with raised eyebrow. "you were named after a nurse."

"But he wasn't a doctor,' McCoy said.

"Of course he was," Spock said.

"No, he wasn't," McCoy said.

"He worked in a field akin to being a doctor," Spock said. "most of the illnesses, that he had to care for patients, ended up being more sophisticated than the average doctor in his field." McCoy's face became furious.

"That's like you sayin' bein' a doctor is bein' a science officer!" McCoy said.

"Medicine is not a science," Spock said.

"Screw that, Medicine is science," McCoy said.

"He was a doctor," Spock said.

"No, he wasn't!" McCoy said.

"He helped the physicians, therefore, he was acting in the capacity of healing," Spock said.

"But he was not certified," McCoy said.

"Understood," Spock said. "but that does not mean he made them take credit for his diagnoses."

McCoy rubbed his forehead.

"You are persistent," McCoy said.

"Because I am right," Spock said. "Theoretically, your grandfather diagnosed himself."

"That is awful," McCoy said. "I would not have wanted to be in his position. . . diangosin' himself."

"Neither would have I," Spock agreed.

Our view turned into the past. There appeared a well aged man sitting in a chair in front of a flat padd in a gray almost blue room that appeared to be his office. Our view panned forward to see there was some similarities between the man and McCoy. But not the iconic bull horn shaped eyebrows as they were thick and heavy. Not the baby blue eyes but instead light brown eyes. McCoy inherited his baby blue eyes from Eleanor. He placed the padd onto the table rubbing the side of his face leaned forward then rubbed his hands with himself lowered. He leaned upwards turning toward the small square device on his desk. The camera panned over to a pictures of his family on his desk showing a well aged woman with the McCoy eyebrows and her arms wrapped around the man who looked happy. Little David growing up in the photographs to a young man.

"Did it kill him the second time?" McCoy asked.

"He survived the surgery," Spock said. "however, he died of the complications three months later."

"Three months. . ." McCoy said. "so that means. . ." He leaned forward rubbing the side of his cheeks. "my daughter might have it."

"If it is genetic, plausibly," Spock said. McCoy's eyes darted toward Spock.

"My daughter needs to be tested for brain cancer," McCoy said.

"I need your ex-wives comn number," Spock said.

"Sure," McCoy said. "just touch the grass," McCoy's hands were in the grass. "I have everythin' organized by shades of green," Spock looked over his shoulder to see the prairie field moving from side to side by the window. He looked down to see the shades of green grass surrounding them that took on the shape of a large circle. "Dependin' on how important they are to me."

Spock's finger grazed against a blade of grass experiencing a memory of McCoy holding a baby in his arms, happy, cooeying at her.

"Fascinating," Spock said. "this is your mind palace."

"Yes, if you can say that," McCoy said. "took me a lot of time to organize it."

"Your time was well spent," Spock said, feeling around for the comn number. He came across the memory of McCoy holding his phone, only a young man, lacking the bags under his eyes and he looked cute. Spock listened to the comn number. "Leonard."

"Call me Len," McCoy said. "if ya tryin' to be endearin' with me while I am sick then ya very wron'."

"I admit," Spock said. "this is my first 'rodeo' being a supportive colleague." McCoy laughed.

"First?" McCoy asked. He earned a icy glare. "Your first. Uh huh."

"Not entirely convinced?" Spock inquired.

"Not at all," McCoy said. "you must have other colleagues who needed support."

"Most of them refused of them refused to be associated to me because of my heritage," Spock said.

"Xenophobia was bad on Vulcan?" McCoy asked.

"Affirmative," Spock said. "and still is."

"How are you sure about that?" McCoy asked.

"Unlike humans, in Vulcan society, there is a deep rooted dislike for Vulcanian-human hybrids," Spock said.

"I always thought their arrogance didn't effect people like you," McCoy said.

"You are wrong," Spock said.

"I know that, now," McCoy said. "How has your away missions been?"

"The captain gets his shirt torn every away mission," Spock said, earning laughter from the man.

"Ah that sucks," McCoy said.

"Not at all," Spock said. "a pleasant sight to see his nipples but I rather see them when it is not because of a fight."

"Did I just pun myself into a corner?" McCoy asked.

"I believe you just did," Spock said. "did you know puns were used in first exchange between humanity and Vulcans?"

"I wouldn't put it past humans back then," McCoy said. "humans used puns all the time."

"Do you?" Spock asked.

"When the occasion calls for it," McCoy said. "CSI: Miami, but very disturbin' and iconic, which made a pun meme." Spock raised his dark slanted eyebrow.

"Explain," Spock said.

"It looks like you have been. . ." McCoy put on black sun glasses. "cornered." And them there was a sudden loud 'YEAAAAHHH' cheer.

Spock did not want to disclose just how far it went down the man's family tree. He was the odd one in the family to have gotten it so earlier. Most of the family members got it at the age of fifty or in their late eighties and passed away. The doctor chronologically was none of those ages but in fact forty years old. Those who were afflicted with the disease before the safe manner of the removal was discovered had died. It was decided, in agreement, by the doctors that there was one part of the cancer that was left in the brain that had sent the dead mans switch stopping the heart. Spock found himself smiling at the human. Frankly, McCoy looked cool in it. It almost made Spock wish that he could melt into a puddle of emotions.

"Oh look," McCoy said, as a bird passed over them. "there goes my heterosexuality."

"You are gay?" Spock said. McCoy slipped off his sun glasses looking over in the direction of the Vulcan.

"Bi the way, your smile looks nice," McCoy said.

"I was not smiling," Spock said. His cheeks turned green.

"Yes, you were," McCoy said.

"Are you gay?" Spock asked, again.

"Yes, but I like men and women," McCoy said.

"Is that why you and your wife split up?" Spock inquired.

"No, yes, no, yes, no," McCoy said. McCoy shrugged. "maybe, it's complicated."

"Not at all," Spock said.

"I didn't know I liked men. I just did not realize . . ." McCoy said. "I realized it after some personal time with my pa. We were lucky that I had him longer than I should. We were all lucky that he didn't catch it in 2264. . ." He shook his head. "It was rampant. And he was still runnin' around being a doctor despite the colonist spreading disease going around."

"Your father did not come into contact with those carrying it?" Spock asked.

"Not until last year," McCoy said. "I should have accepted his offer to visit the first underwater colony. . . Just for old times sake. Just before. . ." He paused, taking a breath, briefly closing his eyes at the painful memory then reopened them. "it all happened."

"I do not believe your father had 'luck' on his side," Spock said. "I believe he had time."

"Ya know," McCoy said. "if I live through this and get old, I'm probably goin' to do what my father did."

"Which was?" Spock asked.

"Goin' around as a rogue doctor helpin' people," McCoy said.

"That would be a logical route for someone like you," Spock said. McCoy nodded.

"Ya should have met him," McCoy said. "he was a sweetheart."

"If we were in deep space then there would have been a chance to have met," Spock said. "but undoubtedly a unfortunate loss in every shape," Spock sensed the man's mood turning sour. "Your mother wishes you to get through the guilt of killing your father."

"She means well," McCoy said. "but if I only waited a few more weeks. . . Just two more weeks," McCoy held his hands out. "I wouldn't have blood on my hands."

"Len," Spock placed a hand on the man's slender shoulders. "My brother, Sybok, can help you with that when you are in recovery."

"I don't need no healer," McCoy said. The camera panned back to Spock who had a stoic expression on his face leaving no response then our view panned back to the two men.

"You say otherwise," Spock said.

"I will consider it," McCoy said, tending to the grass. There were long patches of what appeared to be a long vine decorated in white buds growing in between them. The cancer was spreading as represented in his mind. The doctor looked back up in the direction of the science officer. "what else would ya like to talk about?"

"Nothing," Spock said. "I want to be in your company."

A smile grew on the doctor's face.

"Quiet type, eh?" McCoy asked.

"Affirmative," Spock said. Their heads turned away and they enjoyed the calm, easy going scenery together.

A/N This story is currently completed on ao3 with fifty-seven chapters. So many chapters and lazyness uploading it to here. I wrote this entire story IN A MONTH. For Spones month challenge anyway. So 92k words written in one month? THAT'S PLAUSIBLE IF YOU STAY UP TILL 11 OR 12 ON THE LAST NIGHT BEFORE THE DEADLINE FOR THE LAST CHAPTER. WORKING ALL DAY EVERY DAY LONG FOR THIS FIC AS A CHALLENGE. It was a fun challenge. I will admit to that. And I like all the suffering, fluff, beauty, and love that grew within this novel.