The Last Visit
Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the world of Star Trek. The beta for this story was IKindaWriteSometimes .
When the old man wakes up from his heavy sleep, it's already evening and the shadow of the white painted bed on the floor is starting to extend. The man doesn't see this, locked in a world of his creation somewhere between sleep and waking. In a state between life and death. The man's cheeks are sunken and his face covered with a net of wrinkles. He breathes heavily and when he tries to take another strained breath, it wheezes out of his lungs. He had fallen asleep fifteen minutes ago, with his friend's hand still in his own. Now he opens his eyes again and sees his friend looking at him attentively. On his typically emotionless face there is care this time.
„How are you feeling?"
„Not bad for one hundred sixty years and lung cancer."
„One hundred sixty-one. Your birthday was last month."
„You're right. I'm old. Old and forgetful. „
There is truth in the old man's words; said with a strain. Old age doesn't save anyone. Not even the ex-Starfleet officers. Even the twenty third century geneticists could only prolong an average human lifespan. Not keep it up forever. Only an artificial lifeform could be immortal and the man lying in bed certainly isn't one.
„Are you experiencing pain?"
„No. The painkillers help a lot. You're still here? That's great that after so many years, you still visit me."
„You were my friend. You still are."
The days of his youth came back to the dying man; days when he was still young and far from being the old man lying in bed with a terminal cancer. A soft smile flashes across the face of the dying man. He coughs again. Blood appears of his mouth. His friend wipes it off with a tissue lying on the bedside.
„Do you need something?"
No. I think I'll sleep again. Will you visit me tomorrow again... if I'm still alive?"
„Yes, if this is your wish. I will go now then."
„Ok, then. Goodbye, Data."
„Goodbye, Geordi."