One day, McCoy was going to point out that tossing out a warning while actually doing the thing one was warning about does not actually a warning make. He barely had time to duck out of the way -- coughing all the while -- before Spock threw an end table at the window.

Well... that was one way to do it.

The rush of oxygen was heady and it did help clear away some of the dull grey at the edges of his vision, but it was also going to feed the fire as much as it was going to save his lungs a little grief.

"Gotta move," he said with a rough voice, reaching out to shove at Spock's shoulder. "Not a long drop. Go."