Scotty is the one who tells McCoy what has happened to Chekov. The man is stressed and resentful of his inability to beam the Russian back up, regardless of how little he could have done differently. Right now all they want to do is find Pavel again… and they have precious little time to do it. Not to mention a passenger from the 20th century that McCoy doesn't want to begin thinking about.

Then Uhura's voice comes over that intercom, echoing down the shaft McCoy hauls himself up, and tells them that Chekov is in Mercy Hospital and… not expected to survive. McCoy feels wound tighter than the string of a fiddle. He hauls himself up the ladder as quickly as possible, determined to get his two cents in.

"Jim, you've got to let me go in there! Don't leave him in the hands of 20th century medicine!"

Even as he begs, McCoy knows it's a losing battle. Jim is crushed by Chekov's condition of course… but McCoy can see the needs of the many bearing down on him. The whole planet vs one crewman… who would make that kind of trade?

And then, miraculously… a voice from behind them. "Admiral, may I suggest that Dr McCoy is correct? We must help Chekov."

Leonard is floored, and to his side, he knows Jim is as well.

"Is that the logical thing to do, Spock?" Jim asks, almost a murmur.

"No," Spock admits, without a hint of remorse. "But it is the human thing to do."

And against all odds, despite the fact that nothing else might have budged Jim to take such a terrible chance… he accepts.

No one gets left behind.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Things move quickly after rescuing Chekov. They infiltrate the hospital with a little help from Dr Taylor and Pavel lives. The whales are located and their ship is honing in on their signal. Everything seems to be going smoothly at last, and there is now only the need to beam up the whales and return home.

Leonard, personally, has always tried to avoid investing himself in the specifics of the ship's ability to perform whatever Jim demands of it. He sleeps better that way. But Spock's brow is furrowed as he adjusts and readjusts the equipment at his station.

Cautiously, weighing every action, McCoy approaches. Spock is troubled. Jim is busy. Perhaps this time… things will work out.

"You, uh" McCoy leans against Spock's station. "You present the appearance of a man with a problem."

Immediately McCoy realizes he has Spock's full attention, the man's eyes never wavering from his own. The contrast is complete from the first time he attempted a conversation with Spock and the intensity of the attention is unnerving. The old Spock never paid such attention to McCoy unless things were dire indeed.

"Your perception is correct, Doctor," Spock informs him, leaning forward slightly. "In order to return us to the exact moment we left the 23rd century, I have used our journey back through time as a reference calculating the exact coefficient of elapsed time in relation to the acceleration curve."

Now this is the technobabble he remembers from Spock, and he doesn't think it has even occurred to the Vulcan that McCoy might not understand everything he's saying.

"Naturally," Leonard responds, a soft smile stealing over his face. There can be no hint of the confrontation with which he would have approached the old Spock - clearly this new version would have no idea how to deal with the concept. In any case, Spock is looking at him with such earnestness now that to respond with anything other than support seems unthinkable. "So, what's your problem?"

"Acceleration is no longer a constant," Spock explains, like it should be obvious, like he truly expects McCoy to provide him with the answer to literal warp physics. At some point during their journey, Spock has placed great importance on what McCoy has to say, and he isn't sure where it happened. All he knows is that he refuses to waste the gift he's been given - and that he can only provide the same kind of advice he always has.

"Well, then you're… just gonna have to take your best shot," Bones offers, gently.

"...Best shot?"

It is only through a combination of the closeness of the moment and his active dedication to conflict avoidance that Bones restrains his tongue from any unfortunate slips.

"Guess, Spock. Your best guess."

Spock is already shaking his head before the sentence gets out, rejecting the concept out of hand.

"Guessing is… not in my nature, Doctor." Spock refutes, and McCoy is reminded that this Spock is untested. Has never experienced anything outside of a simulation before this misadventure. Has never been forced to deal with the uncertainty of imperfect variables; certainly not with anyone's lives on the line. Spock looks at him now, uncertain and reaching, hanging on to his every word.

There is no advice he can give that would solve this problem - nothing to make the issue go away, and nothing to circumvent it. In the end, all he can say is - "Well… nobody's perfect."

There is nothing he can add to that, and although Spock is not entirely reassured there is nothing more he can gain from McCoy. Whatever strength Spock needs to make this hurdle he will need to find within himself.

Bones offers a smile and moves away, a happy thrumming in his chest. Spock will accept his help, now. This is very good.

And in short order the whales are rescued with the whalers receiving the scare of their lives that hopefully won't affect the timeline too terribly.

It is time to go home now, and it didn't come soon enough.

Jim takes Dr Taylor by the arm, intending to accompany her to look at the whales, before he turns and addresses Spock, in what could almost pass as an afterthought if it weren't for the intensity in his eyes.

"Oh, Mr Spock, have you accounted for the variable mass of whales and water in your time re-entry program?"

Spock, leaning over his console, takes a breath. "Mr Scott cannot give me exact figures, Admiral, so…" and Spock's voice trails off as he braces himself, "... I will make a guess." Spock observes Jim with the air of a man preparing for execution in the face of his sub-perfect estimates.

"A guess?" Jim breathes, stepping forward, watching Spock as if he'd never seen him before. "You, Spock?" And a smile started to trail over his lips. "That's extraordinary!"

Clearly Jim had not heard their conversation, nor had he expected Spock to reach this level of development so soon. In fact, he seemed fairly blindsided, and beamed as he turned again to usher Dr Taylor away.

Spock, meanwhile, only evaluated Jim's reaction with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, shaking his head as Jim exited the room and turning to McCoy. "I don't think he understands."

"No, Spock," McCoy murmured, thrilled not only that everything was turning out so well, but also that Spock had come to him. On his own! At the very least Spock considered him a trusted ally, and perhaps even a friend. Focused on Spock though he was, he couldn't help a note of self-satisfaction entering his voice - "He means that he feels safer about your guesses than most other people's facts."

"Then you're saying… it is a compliment."

Bones nodded. "It is."

Spock assimilated this. "Then I will try to make the best guess I can."

Spock really needs to stop swelling his ego like this. How long has he just wanted to explain humanity to Spock and have the man listen? Now here he is, laying everything out plain, and the Hobgoblin eating every bit of it up. If he isn't careful the power is going to start going to his head!

McCoy shakes his head. Even though the warp drive hasn't fired yet, he already feels like he's come home.