A/N: I've seen Beyond four times (yes, I know, that's a lot, but I love it so gosh darn much), and what never fails to get me right in the feels is this particular scene. It's just so powerful that it doesn't even need words, but, well, I tried to give it appropriate ones.
Spock contemplated the small metal box in front of him.
Property of Ambassador Spock.
It was illogical, being so hesitant to open the box. Yet Spock could not help but place a sentimental importance on the items within. Vulcans kept very few physical mementos of their lives, so the items they did choose to keep were incredibly important. And contained within this box were the items the ambassador had treasured – the items Spock treasured. It came with no lack of trepidation, the unveiling of what his counterpart valued more than anything.
Finally, Spock lifted the lid.
Inside, a simple red cloth wrapped around a single item – a silver case. Using the utmost care, Spock pushed up the top half, revealing a photo filled with faces simultaneously foreign and familiar.
Nyota, aged but still beautiful. Jim, still perfectly comfortable in the captain's chair. McCoy just behind him and on his side as always. Chekov, his grin youthful despite his age. Sulu, calm and stoic even as he smiled for the camera. Scott, plump but jolly.
And standing with them, unsmiling but comfortable nonetheless, was Spock.
"Because you needed each other. I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you could accomplish together; of a friendship that will define you both, in ways you cannot yet realize."
"I urge you to remain in Starfleet."
"Put aside logic. Do what feels right."
The deceased could not tell the living anything – the Vulcan in Spock knew that.
But simultaneously, the human in Spock heard the message loud and clear: Change was inevitable. However, some things would always remain constant, even across different realities.
Humans would call it fate, the series of events that took a Vulcan and six humans from their origins to their meeting. It was love, though, that held them together.
With the message received, Spock made his decision in an instant.
He would not leave Starfleet.
He would not return to a planet whose inhabitants despised his heritage. Nothing he could do would appease them, would prove that he was Vulcan. If he had ever owed his father's species anything, the ambassador had paid the debt.
He would return to the ship whose inhabitants accepted him. Where he was truly needed. Where he could remain true to both of his parents.
He would put aside logic and thrive alongside his human family for the rest of their days, because he had a place in the universe.
And in every universe worth living in, his place was to grow old alongside the wonderfully illogical humans he loved.