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The gravity of the situation is sinking in...On both the Enterprise and the Shuttle. It's not looking good for them, and time is running out. And maybe there are still some things left unsaid.

On Enterprise, a fragile feeling of hope had begun to form. The ion trail had ended at a medium-sized asteroid. They had started spiralling around it at a close distance immediately, to cover the whole surface from pole to pole.

No one mentioned what they were all thinking: scanning such a large area by sight would take a far longer time than their missing shipmates had.

Jim knew no one among their group of friends counted themselves as a pessimist, but the grim prospects of the situation had begun to sink in.

Around noon, Chris Chapel had activated two stasis units in the morgue, two icy caskets waiting for two icy corpses.

Jim found himself thinking about how he should face Ambassador Sarek. What they had feared had happened once seemed to have occurred now: his son had died, his immortal soul was lost and would not rest in the Hall of Ancient Thought among his ancestors. Jim did not care an inch what Sarek thought was right or what he said Spock would have wanted. But if there was an existence after death for Vulcans, or something close to it, he would mourn the loss of that possibility along with the loss of life, if it came to it.

And he would have to contact McCoy's family. It would be a shock for Joanna, whose birthday message for her father had arrived only this morning. Her present had arrived via carrier services some days ago, addressed to Jim, and he had hidden it in his quarters.

If they didn't find them on time, they would go down in the statistics as just two additional officers who lost their lives in the line of duty. But the statistics did not tell you about the unfairness of it all, of parents losing their son for the second time, of a daughter losing her father.

But they might find them on time, after all. Didn't he use to say that he didn't believe in no-win scenarios? Well, this one was a good one not to believe in. He refused to. Only when he saw their frozen bodies, devoid of life, would he believe it. And maybe not even then, if he was being honest with himself.

The temperature regulation had failed. The only warmth left in the shuttle was residual if there was any warmth at all. But both officers knew that the frigid air they had been enduring was nothing compared to the cold of space that would soon penetrate the hull.

Some minutes ago, Spock had walked slowly and very stiffly over to their EV suits and emptied their oxygen tanks into the room to buy them some time should the air threaten to run out.

Neither of the two mentioned it, but they knew that this was their last day. McCoy knew he would not get up again, he felt too stiff and fatigued, and Spock was shaking horribly. The short walk to the EV suits seemed to have cost him all his reserves, and he had plopped down next to McCoy unceremoniously.

They had zipped their sleeping bags together to share them and sat huddled against each other now, in a cocoon of sleeping bags and all of the blankets. McCoy had slipped his legs under Spock's and pressed against him to share as much surface area as possible. For a wonderful, but short moment it had seemed a bit warmer, but the temperature was dropping so rapidly, that their precautions barely seemed to make a difference.

McCoy listened to the creaking of the ice outside. Apart from their breathing, it was the only sound that could be heard.

Then the light flickered, prompting him to turn his attention to the inside of the shuttle again. He watched the puffs of air coming from Spock, his breath made visible in the low temperature.

The Vulcan looked miserable. He had his eyes closed, and it had been a long time since he had spoken. He was even paler than usual and was leaning heavily against McCoy.

The Doctor felt about as bad as Spock looked. Knowing the medical details of what was happening didn't help. He had watched the symptoms of hypothermia unfold, in Spock and himself, without being able to do anything against it. He knew that at this rate, they did not have a lot of time, a few hours at most, if not less. He could feel himself become drowsy and had difficulties thinking straight.

He rubbed his chin through the blanket. Beard stubble scratched against the fabric. Shaving would be a good idea, as well as a shower. He hadn't washed in far longer than he preferred.

McCoy almost laughed out loud at himself. How absurd it was to think about personal hygiene when he was going to die in a matter of hours.

It had grown calm and quiet in the cabin. Too quiet. And then Leonard noticed that Spock had stopped shivering. And so had he. At least they would go out at the same time.

He pressed even closer to Spock and felt for his heartbeat. It was slower than usual, far too slow for a Vulcan. But he was still alive, even if he wasn't even acknowledging the physical contact.

He leant against Spock's shoulder, wishing to have just a portion of his Vulcan equanimity and acceptance.

He flinched violently as the main console gave a shrill beep. "Attention: structural integrity failure in thirty minutes," the computer voice said. "Please vacate the vehicle."

"Now that's just typical!" McCoy growled. "I'm too old for this crap!"

He vaguely remembered Spock saying something about their structural integrity being compromised after the crash. A microfracture must have expanded, now threatening a hull breach. The shuttle would be crushed like a tin can, and they with it.

"It will not make a difference to me," Spock whispered slowly.

He had his eyes closed and was breathing shallowly. He was dying.

McCoy drew a shuddering breath. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes," Spock murmured, then added softly, "But I expect our demise to be faster, and less painful than my death."

"I'm scared, Spock," McCoy slurred, referring to having to watch Spock die, as well as his own impending demise.

Spock opened his eyes very slowly and looked down at him. "I should be able to induce a trance with a mind meld. You would be as good as asleep for the remainder of our time."

McCoy shook his head. "No. I want to be conscious every last second of this."

Spock only nodded and looked away again, much to the distress of the Doctor who wished his friend would at least look at him.

The Vulcan gazed out of the forward window, turning his attention to the stars. How long had it been since he had left Enterprise for the last time? Forty-eight hours? Fifty? Frustrated, he realised that he didn't know anymore. His thoughts were sluggish and unfocussed.

He turned his attention to the reflection in the window, noticing for the first time how pale and tired they both looked. Leonard McCoy looked suddenly older than his years and lines of worry were etched into his face. Spock knew that that worry was more for him than for the Doctor himself. Despite the Doctor's grouchy exterior, he had always had a soft nature and generally cared more deeply about his friends than himself.

McCoy tore his eyes away from Spock. If the Vulcan preferred to spend his last minutes stargazing instead of facing him, he wouldn't blame him. It was of no consequence, had they spent the better part of two decades looking at each other.

Then, he met Spock's eyes in the mirror image. So he had been looking at him, after all.

"How long?" McCoy asked quietly as Spock turned around to him at last.

The Vulcan hesitated. "Eight minutes. Maybe less." It was obvious that he had lost track of time.

McCoy nodded grimly and tried to fight down the rising panic. "Listen, Spock," he said, deciding that if there was anything he wanted to say, he should do it now. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye…But I just want you to know that…What I'm trying to say is…" He faltered and stopped.

Spock continued to look at him, patiently.

Flustered, McCoy averted his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I'd rather have you safe than here with me, but I'm glad that at least I won't die alone."

This wasn't what he had wanted to say but it would have to do. He leant into Spock's shoulder and he seemed to understand.

"Indeed," he said and didn't pull away.

"So, this is it," McCoy said after a while. He couldn't bear the silence. There would be silence enough after one of them had passed.

"Yes, this is it," Spock said, looking directly into the Doctor's eyes. "I am sorry."

McCoy nodded sadly but smiled up at his friend. "Me too. But I lived a good life, I have no regrets." He saw something in the Vulcan's eyes as he said that. "You?" he asked.

Spock did not answer but put his arm across him and for a moment, it seemed as if he wanted to hug him. Then, he broke their look and dropped his hand from the Doctor's shoulder.

"Spock, we're about to die," McCoy whispered. "Whatever you were about to do or say, this is your last chance." His voice broke as he looked at the dying man in his arms.

Spock met his gaze, saw the look in his eyes, and made a decision. He circled his arm around his companion again and embraced him.

McCoy was right, it was their last chance. He could feel his vision growing blurry, and the tiredness taking over.

"It's alright, Leonard. I'm with you," he whispered and tried to put all his feelings into this one insufficient sentence.

McCoy hugged him back firmly and nodded as he understood. And he found he could say now what he didn't manage earlier.

"Dammit, Spock," he murmured gently. "You irritate the hell out of me, but you've been one of the best friends I could have hoped for." He paused to wrap his arms tighter around him and continued, "In fact, I couldn't imagine a day without you. Thank you for being in my life."

Spock did not answer.

"Spock?"

Spock remained silent and McCoy realised that he had lost consciousness. He was as good as gone. And Leonard McCoy was alone.

Then he saw her, the most beautiful and painful sight in the world. Brilliant white against the abyss of space: the Enterprise.

He gasped as he watched the slender ship come closer.

"We're down here. Help!" he whispered. He knew they couldn't hear him, no one could anymore.

He could feel his strength leaving him and held the lifeless figure as tight as he could, and watched the white spectre become a blur as darkness enveloped him.

To be continued...

Is this it? Is the Enterprise too late? Thank you so much for reading, I hope it was enjoyable. Stay tuned for the next chapter!