Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Honored Elder.” The receptionist’s voice breaks his quiet contemplation. “The Healer is ready for you.”

Beside him his not-father stirs and rises to his feet. “Do you require assistance?”

“No.” He answers, ignoring the faint lift of Sarek’s eyebrows. He had not meant to be so distracted. “I believe I can manage.”

To his credit Sarek allows him to stand on his own and does not comment on how even that short effort results in a 50% increase in his respiration rate. Sarek waits under the disapproving stare of the receptionist until he reaches for his walking stick and stands upright.

“This way.” She says blankly, only it was only blank if you didn’t understand Vulcans. His people gave more away than they would ever admit, especially if you knew where to look.

They follow her down a well lit hall to an examination room. The medical center was new, having been built only last year to replace the initial, hastily constructed one that served their people in the early days of New Vulcan’s existence. It has been 5 years since what the people now call the immeasurable loss and in that time much has changed. Architects finally have the time and resources to design buildings that reflect their people’s culture. Spock finds comfort in the permanence of the halls that look so like those on Vulcan-that-was, it hints that finally, their people are coming to a place where they can grow.

When they enter the room Sarek assists him into the chair indicated for patients and he does not complain. His not-father has been quieter than usual today, and has been since he had offered to take his not-son to this medical appointment. His relationship with Sarek in this universe has been an unexpected gift. Truthfully, Spock had planned on avoiding Sarek as much as possible but then there he had been standing and waiting for Spock when his shuttle arrived on the new colony, arms folded into the layers of his robe and an unreadable look on his face.

They had both ignored the awkwardness of how they were (or weren’t) related and treated each other as one would treat a member of their clan. Most surprisingly, they had worked well together in assisting with laying the foundations for New Vulcan’s development and their experience working with other members of the federation had been of great value to their fledgling home. Spock wonders if he and his own father would have ever come to a place where their relationship was so easy, or if it was just their work that had brought them in harmony. Even Sarek’s relationship with his own son was simpler in this reality. Perhaps pain was the only thing that truly tempered them. But it does not explain Sarek’s insistence on helping him today, while he would never describe him as emotional, there is an undercurrent of something he can not name in the younger Vulcan.

The door opens and Healer Sovik enters.

“Ambassador.” She greets Sarek with a nod. “Ambassador Spock.” She says as she sits to face him, wasting no time to, as the human’s say ‘get into it’. “Have the attacks worsened since we last spoke?”

Ignoring Sarek’s cool gaze, Spock answers. “The intensity has not changed but they are increasingly frequent.”

She makes a note on her PADD. “When was the last attack?”

“Yesterday at 300 hours and again at 1600 hours.”

This time Sarek interrupts. “You did not mention they are occurring with such frequency.”

“No.” Spock says. “I did not. I thought it was under control.”

“Clearly it is not.” Sarek replies curtly.

The Healer ignores them both. “You have been taking the medication as prescribed?”

“Yes.” Spock says. “It does relieve the symptoms.”

“As it should.” The healer answers, pausing only to take a few more notes before looking Spock straight in the eye. “Elder, I am concerned. Your symptoms have clearly worsened and as we previously discussed you are not a candidate for surgery. Your hybrid biology combined with the uncertainty of how your travel between timelines has impacted you creates unacceptable risk. I understand your father also suffered this defect and only narrowly survived surgery.”

“That is correct.” Spock says.

“Additionally, your father was 58.25 years younger than you.” She says. “He was also completely Vulcan.” This she says with no judgment or scorn, just as fact and Spock finds himself as always astonished by how accepted his status is in this place. He supposes that the work he has been doing for the colony has finally convinced the Vulcans that he is truly one of them- something that had taken over 100 years in his own timeline.

“Will the symptoms continue to worsen?” Sarek asks.

“Yes.” She says, turning her attention back to Spock. “They will continue to worsen and may require more medical intervention. It is no longer safe for you to live alone.”

“Healer…” Spock begins but she interrupts him.

“Elder. You have done much for our people and all of Vulcan owes you gratitude. It is because of this I must be honest. You are dying.”

“I have known this for some time, esteemed Healer.” Spock says. This is true, he has known for almost 6 Earth months that his health is finally failing him. It does not bother him, after all, he has already died once. This final ending will be significantly more peaceful than his previous death. And if he is honest with himself, he has been ready for a long time.

“Then you understand the importance of what I say.” She replies.

“The ambassador will stay with me.” Sarek says without prompting, his voice simple and clear.

Spock finds he has no answer for this unexpected development and looks blankly at Sarek who reads the question on his face easily.

“It is logical.” Sarek says. “You are the son of my other self. It is my duty to care for you in his stead.”

“It is agreed then.” The Healer says, ignoring Spock. “You will return here in 14 days, sooner if the symptoms worsen.”

“I will take care of it.” Sarek replies, nodding politely to the Healer as she leaves the room.

Spock sighs, a human gesture he allows himself to indulge in. “While your assistance is appreciated, it is not necessary.”

“Except that it is.” Sarek says simply. “You and my son are the same in your inability to see when help is needed. Nor is it shameful to require the assistance of others. Did no one teach you this?”

Spock has no answer.

___________________________________________

Sarek’s home is located in the oldest part of the city. While the construction was far simpler than the newer dwellings being built, the inside is comfortable and well furnished. Simple art hangs from the wall over a stone fireplace and the windows are open to let in the warm breeze.

Mollified, Spock allows himself to be led to a soft couch and keeps silent as Sarek brings him water.

“I am not an invalid.” He says.

“No.” Sarek answers neutrally, as though speaking to a young child. “But you are ill and the wise thing to do would be to rest. I will have your personal belongings sent for.”

Spock closes his eyes in surrender, the fatigue of the day sinking into his bones. “Thank you, Sarek.”

Sarek pauses. “It is nothing.”

When Spock looks up, Sarek looks almost uncomfortable. “You are unsettled.”

“You are not my son and also my son, son of my other self.” Sarek says. “I was not prepared to hear the severity of your condition though I had my suspicions.”

“Ah.” Spock says. “I did not want to worry you, nor the others.”

“Worry is illogical.” Sarek says automatically and Spock’s lip twitches but freezes at Sarek’s next words. “I have done my best to honor your desire to avoid disclosing knowledge of your timeline but I ask this as a personal query, how did your father die?”

The air evaporates from the room in a way that has nothing to do with his damaged heart. Spock feels stricken as he looks at this younger version of his father who has struck so easily the source of his pain. Despite their disagreements and frustrations, Spock regrets that he had not been with his father in the end, his father who had not been able to let him die. Perhaps regret is a human feeling, but he can find no other word.

His voice is old when he replies. “I was not there.”

“Do you seek to punish yourself now at the end of your own life?” Sarek says. “I do not believe that your father would have wanted that.”

“I do not know.” Spock admits after a long pause. “I only knew his mind at the end through another. My father and I never chose to meld.”

“Spock.” Sarek so rarely uses his name that he finds himself filled with the tension that had been so familiar in his youth. “I would meld with you.” He holds up his hand when Spock opens his mouth to speak. “I respect your hesitation, I only ask you to consider it.” He pauses. “Rest. I must meditate on the events of the day.”

________________________________________________

When Spock wakes the sun is lower in the sky, he had not meant to sleep at all but the weakness of his physical body had prevailed. He had dreamed of his father, dreams he had not had in many years. His subconscious called out to his buried grief and their last argument still echoes in his memory. Spock can’t decide if it is a gift or a punishment that his heart is going to fail him before his mind, that he will never suffer in the way his father had. He thought that these feelings were in the past, that he had accepted them and found peace, but peace he finds, is fleeting.

The beep of his PADD brings his attention back to the present and he reaches for it and looks at the screen, a call from the Enterprise. He clicks to accept it.

“Spock!” This timeline’s version of Jim Kirk was just as animated as the counterpart he had known. “Wait, were you sleeping? What time is it there? I didn’t know Vulcans took naps.”

“Indeed Jim.” Spock answers, unable to keep the flicker of mirth from coloring his expression. “It has been demonstrated that those of advanced age in many species require more rest than their younger peers. I have found this true in myself as well.”

Jim laughs. “Was that your dignified way of saying that you’re getting older.”

“Perhaps.” He says, “I trust you and the crew are well?”

“We are!” Jim answers brightly. “I know you told Spock and I to expect the unexpected with the start of our five year mission but you really weren’t joking!” Jim shrugs in response to Spock’s raised eyebrow. “I know, I know, Vulcan’s don’t joke, but it’s really been incredible. Deep space is like nothing else.”

“In that we are agreed.” Spock says. “I too found it fascinating.”

“Spock sends his regards by the way.” Jim adds in reply. “He is also sending a research paper he thought you would enjoy. Seriously, if I got to meet my future self I’d want to talk about more than science but you guys do you.”

“I will remember that.” He observes and not for the first time imagines a meeting between the Jim of his own world and this younger counterpart. A meeting between the two would likely cause a 300% increase in what his former bondmate had disdainfully referred to as ‘hijinks’. He had looked for T’Pring’s name in the lists of survivors but she too had been lost to the cataclysm. He had held no remaining ill will to her, she had acted in the only way open to her in the end. He remembers her now with fondness.

“Anyways.” Jim continues speaking. “I just wanted to check in since it’s been a while and we’ve finally stopped for shore leave. How is New Vulcan?”

“The colony is growing.” Spock answers. “While it will never be Vulcan-that-was I believe it will someday be called home.”

“I’d like to see that.” Jim remarks.

“I believe you will.” Spock says. “But you should be enjoying your leave instead of talking to an old politician.”

“Spock won’t agree to take leave.” Jim grumbles. “Is that normal for you?”

“I believe you should ask him.” Spock says. “But if I were to be convinced in my own youth, a visit to a research facility or museum would likely have been sufficient.”

“Noted.” Jim says. “And you? You’re doing okay?”

“I am well Jim.” Spock says.

“Good.” Jim nods and in that moment looks so much like the Jim he had lost that it ached. “I guess I’d better go if I’m going to try and convince Spock to join us. Take care of yourself okay?”

Spock nods. “Farewell old friend.” He says as he raises his hand in the ta’al. “Live long and prosper.”

When he sets the PADD down on the table his hands are shaking.

“It is not your intention to tell them about your condition.” Sarek says from the doorway. It isn’t a question.

“No.” Spock says. “They are on their own path now.”

“You will consider my request.”

“Yes.” Spock says. “I will consider it.”

Sarek nods curtly. “Let me assist you, it is time for end meal.”

They eat in silence. The meal is simple but well made and when they have finished Spock studies his empty plate to avoid speaking. The sun is lower in the sky and the first stars are visible through the open windows. New Vulcan looks the most like Vulcan-that-was in the twilight. The distant mountain could almost be Mt. Seleya and the wide valley the ancient, unforgiving Forge.

As if sensing Spock’s thoughts, Sarek speaks. “My son would venture into the Forge for weeks at a time as a child.” He sounds almost wistful for a Vulcan. “He could not be reasoned with and no punishment would dissuade him.”

“I did the same.” Spock says in reply. “I regret how I worried my parents, it was not my intention to disrespect them.”

“Why did you go?” Sarek asks. “To face unnecessary danger was not logical.”

“Children are rarely logical.” Spock replies. “But that was part of the reason I did so. If I could survive the harshest places on Vulcan, I could prove that I was Vulcan.” He pauses and debates whether or not to continue. “It was also an escape from what I considered at the time a harsher environment.”

“It grieves me that my son may have had similar reasons.” Sarek says.

“It was many years ago.” Spock says. “I learned long ago to accept both parts of myself, and my life was enriched because of it.”

“You are at peace with yourself.” Sarek says.

“Yes.” Spock answers. “It took many years.” He does not elaborate and if he notices, Sarek says nothing. “I believe your son will find it in his own time.”

“I am beginning to understand my son’s choice in Starfleet.” Sarek admits. “Though I still cannot say I agree with it.”

“You and my own father are alike in that.” Spock says. “Joining Starfleet was the only way I knew to express the confusion I felt.” He allows the corners of his mouth to turn upwards, the smallest ghost of a smile. “Or as Jim would say, ‘stick it to the Vulcan Science Academy’.”

“An organization you have spent a significant amount of time working to rebuild.” Sarek remarks.

“Many things have changed.” Spock says.

“Perhaps we all must grow.” Sarek says finally, then noticing Spock’s slumping shoulders speaks again. “But I have erred, you are fatigued. We will speak again tomorrow.”

________________________________

The day is hot and Spock’s sleep had been disrupted. He feels unnerved by his conversations with Sarek. The paper his counterpart sent was a welcome distraction and he spent part of the morning drinking tea and composing his reply. He feels restless, an unfamiliar feeling that meditation has only partially dulled. He is teaching a class today and makes a note to schedule a meeting with the director of the school to discuss his replacement.

He allows himself a moment of quiet to watch the twin suns and appreciate the warmth on his face. It is not often that he allows himself to think of the place he came from, but he finds himself drawn to memories of the past. Dr. McCoy would rightly remark he was growing sentimental in his old age. But the truth is that he has not been home for a long time. Even if he could have gone back, he wonders if he would have chosen to do so, everyone he ever cared for has already gone. The only desire he will admit to is that the dream of reunification between his people and the Romulans comes to fruition, especially now that the Romulan’s homeworld has gone. His part in the story is over.

When the aide arrives to drive him to the school he is ready, dressed in the simple robes he prefers with his face arranged in the calm expression expected of an elder. He is treated with respect in the colony, his contributions appreciated and accepted without judgment on his parentage but he still cannot help but wonder if Vulcan will mourn its half human son. Maybe he really is getting sentimental.

The children brighten to see him when he enters the courtyard, a few of them who have not yet mastered their emotional control look at the way he leans on his cane with concern. When weather permits he prefers to hold his classes in the open air, the more a connection can be fostered between the people and their new home the healthier they will be. As an instructor in Starfleet Academy he instructed adults, here on New Vulcan he chooses to teach children. While he knows he is an unconventional instructor he is a favored one, and his students are successful. It pleases him to know the last thing he will give back to his people is knowledge.

“Students.” He says, raising his hand in the greeting of their people. “I greet you with respect.”

“Greetings professor.” His students reply before devolving into their usual flurry of questions.

He sets the students on categorizing the newly discovered flora of the planet and theorizing the different uses of the plants and their components before designing an experiment to test their hypotheses. The morning passes quickly and when the class ends his students clamor around him with more questions until he has to remind them to hurry or they will be late for their next class.

Only when he is alone does he allow himself to sit, grimacing as he works to slow his racing heart. He breathes in and out until he feels his control returning and he reaches for his medication.

“I admit I was hesitant to approve of this unconventional class.” The director of the program, T’Pel says as she enters the courtyard. “But your students have an enthusiasm for learning that I cannot disapprove of.”

T’Pel had been off planet at the time of Vulcan’s destruction. Since then she has dedicated herself to restoring Vulcan’s educational system. Spock likes and respects her. She has a curious nature that while rooted in the logic that define’s their people, is not constrained by it either.

“I am gratified.” Spock says. “It has been an honor to serve Vulcan.”

“How long do you intend to continue teaching?” She asks. Like the majority of Vulcan’s, she is too polite to state the obvious but won’t ignore it either.

“I anticipate I will continue to the end of this term.” Spock says. “I have prepared a list of suitable replacements.”

T’Pel nods in reply. “Your absence will be felt by all.”

Spock inclines his head politely in acknowledgement. “The children are resilient.” He says. “I believe they will flourish here.”

“I had a sister.” T’Pel says unexpectedly.

“I grieve with thee.” Spock says and bows his head. While the guilt of his failure to stop the destruction of Romulus and Vulcan has faded, it has remained a poorly healed wound.

“You misunderstand me.” T’Pel says. “I do not blame you. It is not logical for you to blame yourself for the actions of one individual.” She says this with the tone of someone discussing the weather before continuing. “My sister’s child survived and is about to enter the Vulcan Science Academy. It is I who am grateful to you.”

________________________________

The aide frowns when Spock requests to walk part of the way back to Sarek’s home, no doubt anticipating the reprimand from Sarek himself. Spock reminds the aide that he is not yet deceased and that moderate exercise is beneficial to the heart. To his credit the aide acquiesces without further discussion but hovers close to him as though expecting Spock to collapse into convulsions at any moment. He does not hide his relief with Spock stops and requests they drive the rest of the way.

Sarek is not home when Spock enters the dwelling and he finds himself slightly ashamed at his relief. He has considered Sarek’s request and is still uncertain about what to do about it. If he is honest with himself it is because he is afraid of what he will learn. Will this Sarek be as disappointed in him as his own father? He knows the depth of emotion his father felt for him, the gift he received from Captain Picard was true. But it is not the same as understanding.

His few belongings have been brought from his dwelling and placed in his room. He reaches for the small case that contains the image of his crew, taken before their last mission together. It is worn with age but the image is as bright and clear as it was when it was new. He studies the faces of each friend, relationships he no longer feels shame to acknowledge and feels a familiar warmth.

It is better that his heart will be the thing to fail him after all. He does not wish to part with his memories.

He hears the front door open, it is Sarek returning home. Spock considers his hesitance to meld with Sarek. While it is true that Vulcan’s do not often lie, it is only a half truth that Spock’s hesitance comes from his concern over this timeline. The only meld he has engaged in since arriving in this reality was the brief meld with Jim Kirk, a connection for the purpose of relaying information as efficiently as possible. The truth is that he is afraid of his own grief.

He realizes that he made his decision when the question was first posed. All he has been doing since is delaying.

“Sarek?” He calls out. Sarek’s footsteps echo off the stone floor until he appears in the doorway. He does not speak but waits expectantly.

Spock hesitates. “If you are still agreeable, I would like to meld with you.”

Sarek nods and walks to the sitting room, Spock follows slowly and allows Sarek to help him to a kneeling position. His not-father kneels in front of him and carefully places his fingers against Spock’s face. His voice is unexpectedly gentle.

“My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts.”

They come together slowly, out of synch at first, as though they should fit together but are wrong at the same time. They find a common memory of when they were a child and would go into the Forge for solitude and then it is easier.

They are 10 years old and return home with a split lip and a darkening bruise across their cheek and their father tells them that a Vulcan who cannot control their emotions is shameful. They are 12 and have the top grades in their class, their classmates accuse them of cheating, their father says they should be above such childish taunting but offers no praise. They are 15 and not Vulcan enough, T’Pring tells them that they should not need to look elsewhere for validation but they do not know where else they should look. They are 19 and leave Vulcan, they leave because they cannot live with being looked at as an experiment their entire life, they cannot live with the asterisk that would follow every accomplishment. They do not speak to their father for 18 years. The silence is deafening.

Starfleet is different and also the same. They are still an outsider but earn respect through their work, they find companionship that feels shameful. Their relationship with T’Pring falls apart because they cannot trust but wasn’t emotion the source of their failure in the first place? They seek Kolinahr but are wrong. That isn’t the answer. They begin to speak to their father again, tentative but more frequently. They give their life for their friends and their friends sacrifice everything to save them.

Eventually their career in Starfleet ends. They begin working as an Ambassador for Vulcan and the Federation, they wonder if their father is finally proud. They argue constantly and stop speaking after a public disagreement over the Cardassians. It hurts that despite everything they cannot come to a place of equilibrium. They leave for Romulus and do not say goodbye. When their father dies they are not there. They have already watched every one of their friends die.

Knowing their father through another is strange, it brings both relief and grief. They long ago came to a place of peace with their heritage, they are Vulcan but they are also half human and though they have chosen a Vulcan way of life, they are no longer ashamed of their emotions. But then everything changes.

When they break apart Spock has tears in his eyes. He blinks them away before looking up to meet Sarek’s eyes. There is a pain in his chest and he does not know if it is physical or emotional.

“Spock.” Sarek says finally. “You are not alone.”

Finally, it is enough.

________________________

The months pass. Spock’s symptoms progressively worsen and he finally retires from his position at the school. He can no longer walk more than short distances and spends long afternoons sitting in the garden outside Sarek’s home, letting the sun warm his aching joints. An endless stream of visitors keep him occupied during the day, students, colleagues and council members all seek his company. Sometimes they visit for specific reasons, to ask questions or get his opinions, but sometimes, illogically, to drink tea and speak of inconsequential things.

He begins to sleep longer, eventually even the chair in the garden is too much for his struggling cardiovascular system. Sarek engages a healer to stay with him although he is never far. Spock dictates his simple wishes, bequeathing his meager belongings to his counterpart in the hope they will offer some guidance after his death.

He dreams of his friends. Uhura’s nimble fingers as he taught her to play the Vulcan lyre, Sulu’s enthusiasm when they trained together, Montgomery Scott’s easy laugh, Chekov’s eager comradery, McCoy’s belligerent acceptance, the way they were so at odds and yet a pair, and finally Jim. Jim who taught him about friendship, whose companionship brought so much joy.

When he finally sleeps Sarek is there, he is not alone.