One wakening in an interminable series of awakenings, McCoy realizes he will never wake up again. He turns his head by inches, meeting Spock's warm stare. There is silence between them. So different this. So different from that day so many lifetimes ago when he had woken to Spock's tortured gaze and hand on his shoulder, xenopolycythemia ringing in his ears.

They are calm now, the both of them, and yet the air is heavy with anticipation, and McCoy wonders what happens next. He has been waiting, he suddenly realizes, for the other shoe to drop, for something to happen. The adventure.

"Leonard," Spock begins. "I would join with you."

An incredulous eyebrow crawls up a wrinkled face. More Vulcan mysticism? More voodoo from the hobgoblin?

"This would be unlike any joining you have experienced before. Deeper, yet separate. Joined, yet apart."

And McCoy realizes that, despite not really knowing what he's getting himself into… he's alright with jumping in the deep end. With Spock. Frankly, there's nothing he'd rather do.

"Lead… th' way. H'bgobl'n."

Spock nods, and reaches out, long fingers finding their place on McCoy's temples. Leonard looks into Spock's face, and closes his eyes.

"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

Waking up is a breath of fresh air. The light is so bright that it hurts his eyes for a few overwhelming seconds before he adjusts without even a headache to pound away. He breathes, deep lungfuls of pure air and straightens without feeling every bone in his back.

He looks up, and the sun is bright in a cloudless sky. He looks beside him, and Spock is there, raven hair without a trace of grey, blue science tunic bright against the nature around them. He looks down and finds himself in those smooth blue medical scrubs that were always more comfortable than the uniform tunic.

He grins, and loves the way it stretches over his face. "Well, Spock, you've done it this time."

Spock raises an eyebrow, because of course he does, and tilts his head. "What happens next is up to you."

Leonard puts his hands on his hips and stretches, turning his face into the warm Georgian sun. "We in my mind right now?"

"You have chosen our location and appearance," Spock offers. "But we are not only in your mind, though you will not be able to feel me."

McCoy cracks an eye open at that, and grins. It's been so long since he's had the energy to read between the lines. "You feelin' me then?"

"Once you chose a location to visit or a memory to relive… I will relive it with you. The sensations, and your reactions. We will… experience it together."

Leonard bursts out into an all-out toothy grin and crosses his arms. "You mean I finally get to show you what I mean by a real apple pie?"

Spock looks amused and deliberately patient and excited and resigned all at once. "If that is what you wish."

"Well then, pointy ears, we're gonna go have som'a my Momma's famous apple pie and you're gonna finally shut up about my 'illogical attachment' to a 'nutritionally deficient' desert. Capish?"

"Right," Spock drawls back at him, and Leonard is jolted with the realization that he can relive any of their adventures just before they find themselves whisked away into that old childhood home, just like it once was.

His breath is immediately stolen away as every nick-nack he'd long forgotten lies in its place, as sunbeams stream through the windows, as his fingers trace every crack in the wooden beams. "God, Spock, it's perfect."

Leonard's Ma brushes past them, intangible where their surroundings are solid, bustling around her kitchen. She's perfect, and Leonard can only linger, staring as she exits the kitchen again. Spock nudges the pie pan towards Leonard, silent question in his eyes.

Leonard picks up the pie cutter and sets down two plates, depositing a slice on each. Spock raises an eyebrow in silent question, and McCoy laughs.

"No, you don't. This is my trip down memory lane, and I say you get to experience the joys of finger food."

Spock looks infinitely dubious, eying the pie with suspicion, but McCoy's enthusiasm bears no delays. Biting into the pie, Leonard closes his eyes in bliss, opening them again to watch Spock carefully working on the piece of his own.

"Well?" Leonard grins.

"It seems I am now forced to understand the dubious joys of forgoing civilized convention to employ this more… exciting method."

"Pretty great, isn't it?"

"I am experiencing the exact same sensations you are." Spock's eyebrow is reproachful, but his eyes are laughing.

McCoy finishes his pie, and he laughs too.