(no subject)

McCoy is awake, standing at the bay window, watching the sun rise over the mountains, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.

It's been a week.

He has to go back. If he doesn't go back, there will never be a day where he'll up and decide to go back. It will be put off and put off until he's forgotten there ever was a Starship Enterprise.

Knowing he should doesn't make it any easier.