McCoy is only blearily aware of the cold nipping at his skin through the blanket as Spock carries him inside. He slowly regains consciousness as Spock sweeps into the house to lay him on the bed.
Spock arranges the cushions behind him to help him breathe, and carefully injects a tri-ox spray against his arm.
"Bet you… could'n wait to use on'a them on me," McCoy manages, lips twitching in a thin smile.
Spock settles beside the bed crosslegged, with, apparently, no intention of moving. This apparently settled, McCoy's eyes begin to wander. And Leonard's focus may not be what it was, but even he realizes very quickly that his surroundings are suspiciously familiar. "Spock. Wher're we right now?"
"I had not realized your faculties had deteriorated to the point of not recognizing your childhood home." Spock is half-blurry in his vision, but the man positively radiates smugness. Annoying.
"Well, it ain't mine." McCoy informs Spock, before being overtaken by a coughing fit as the price of his vehemence. Spock helps him sit up wordlessly, and releases him again when the fit is passed. "B'longs to… s'mn else now. B'n that way fer… years."
"And now I have acquired it. The house of Sarek is not without resources."
McCoy feels a smile play at the corners of his eyes, though his lips don't quite have the energy to twitch in response. Insufferable hobgoblin.
Spock seems entirely non-plussed by the concept of becoming Leonard's entire home-care system, seamlessly transitioning into the position of in-home assistant. McCoy can never get over the feeling that he should be griping more energetically at being the recipient of such attention, but a few breathless quips are all he can manage. Spock understands, though. That's good.
McCoy's attention continues to come and go, and whenever it comes Spock is always there, sitting vigil. The Vulcan never has a padd or any other form of entertainment, and only seems to spend the time meditating or watching Leonard attentively. It's as downright creepy as it is comforting.
"S' this s'm kinda… Vulcan voodoo? Ritual?"
Spock's attention is immediately drawn from meditation to Leonard's reclining form. Unsettling, to have the full force of Vulcan attention without anything to distract him. He doesn't think Spock's even eaten anything since they've arrived.
"It is." Spock responds, nonplussed as always. "It is a ritual reserved for family, in the final moments."
Just like a Vulcan to come out and say it. McCoy could never stand sugarcoating anyway.
"An' does it ever cause… prob'ms? If you… start too soon? Go for too long?"
"We know, Doctor," Spock responds. "And we begin when the time arrives."
Hm. "Y'always were… stickler f'r… pun'ct'ality."
Spock inclines his head. "Indeed."