Nostalgia

A Spock Prime Fan Fiction

Beautiful Goodbye
by Amanda Marshall

Fed up with my destiny
And this place of no return
Think I'll take another day
And slowly watch it burn
It doesn't really matter
how the time goes by
Cause I still remember you and I
And that beautiful goodbye

We staggered through these empty streets
Laughing arm in arm
The night had made a mess of me
Your confession kept me warm
And I don't really miss you,
I just need to know
Do you ever think of you and I
And that beautiful goodbye
When I see you now
I wonder how
I could've watched you walk away
If I let you down
Please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye

In these days of no regrets
I keep mine to myself
And all the things we never said
I can say for someone else
Cause nothing lasts
forever, but we always try
And I just can't help but wonder why
We let it pass us by

When I see you now
I wonder how
I could've watched you walk away
If I let you down
Please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye

The stars were like pin-holes in the pitch black curtain that separated the old Vulcan from the familiar. The glittering lights danced so far away, forever out of reach of his withered hands. He pressed one of his palms against the transparent aluminum, feeling the coolness of the vacuum beyond. What he would give to turn back the clock and look upon those distant planets with a scientific mind... to be young again… to turn around and see the smiling faces of his friends – his family.

"I thought you said men like us don't have families"

Spock closed his eyes, letting the memory of The Doctor flood his memory. Age seemed to layer nostalgia on everything, making everything so bittersweet in this new world. The Vulcan slowly lowered his hands from the observation window and nestled them behind his back. Leonard McCoy in this universe had the same dry wit that his McCoy had. He longed to start a argument on semantics or perhaps lack of professional ability, just for old times sake, but his younger self might become embarrassed at his inability to keep a straight face. Spock doubted his control in this strange environment filled with such familiar yet foreign faces. There were expressions he had not seen before.

Love on Uhura's face, that was new. He heard it in her songs, and occasionally directed at a lucky tribble… but at himself? He wondered where that relationship started, and he wondered where it would go. The future was so uncertain. That was the way it was meant to be… and yet he expected it to be the same. No… he wanted it to be the same.

"Course heading captain?"

"The second star to the right and straight on till morning…"

He really was in Neverland; but then he was filled with happiness - reckless abandon at the idea of having no destination but good company. Now he felt like the only adult in a ship full of Lost Boys. James T. Kirk was not at his side. There was no one to reminisce with, no one who could possibly understand the sort of emotions he was fighting to keep deep in his soul. His ray of hope died a long time ago, and yet still breathed several floors above him on the bridge; coping with that fact was something the Vulcan struggled with every time his eyes rested on the young man's face - that smile that threw off all logic.

"Well, what are the odds now?"

"Less the seven thousand to one, Captain. It's remarkable we've gotten this far…"

"Less then seven thousand to one? Well, getting better… getting better."

Spock bowed his head. If he were human, there would be tears welling in his eyes, or a schoolboy grin on his face – he couldn't decide which. He still hadn't worked out all the complexities of human expression in the century of exposure; it was an achievement he feared he'd never obtain in his lifetime. It didn't help that his old friends were the worst teachers… feeling one thing and expressing another. Jim was always a fascinating man in that respect for he was guilty of constantly trying to hide himself behind his stripes. So human, and so close to his heart. A man full of life, yet willing to sacrifice it on a whim for something he believed in.

"Now, Mr. Spock and I are going to go out there ... and quite probably die. In an attempt to show you ... that there are some things ... worth dying for."

So maybe he was a little bit human. His face was twitching in an attempt to remain stoic. Spock raised his head to keep the moisture in his eyes were it belonged. He felt ashamed at how he was falling to pieces at ghosts of his past.

"Do you know why you're not afraid to die, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out. That's it, isn't it? Insecurity. Why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling ."

Did these memories constitute as warm, decent feelings? There was a lot of care in their recollection. They were perfectly preserved - shelved in the depths of Spock's mind for a night like tonight. Every echo of every word played on his heartstrings like Uhura's fingers on her harp. Perhaps it was healthy to uncover the things one keeps hidden every once in a while.

"The release of emotions, Mr. Spock, is what keeps us healthy- emotionally healthy, that is."

"That may be, Doctor. However, I have noted that the healthy release of emotion is frequently very unhealthy for those closest to you."

Spock turned around to see a young girl standing at the doorway to the observation deck. She was the only being in sight, but the sight of her alarmed the elderly Vulcan. Tears streamed down her face, it seemed that she had been silently crying for a while. Her eyes had been trained on the back of Spock's head, but now that he turned around she took a few tentative steps towards him.

The Vulcan was momentarily confused. Surely his Vulcan hearing had not degraded that poorly? Had she been weeping in the room he would have noticed…

The girl touched his arm, her face twisted in emotional agony. That's when he realized that she was physically expressing the turmoil that he was repressing at the core of his being. This child was an Empath. Knowing this, her condition horrified him. If he lost himself to these haunting memories, he would to reduced to what he saw before him.

He looked away, but the Empath tugged at his sleeve. Hesitantly he glanced back at her to see her scribbling in a small notebook. Spock raised a tentative eyebrow just as she handed him a hastily torn slip of paper with a simple phrase written upon it in blue ink.

"I envy you."

Spock's brow furrowed, then after a few moments it relaxed.

"You see, I feel sorrier for you than I do for him, because you'll never know the things that love can drive a man to... the ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures, and the glorious victories. All of these things you'll never know, simply because the word "love" isn't written into your book."

He looked to the girl and gave a faint smile. If his other self were around it would probably make him look away. The old Vulcan crouched slightly, his knees cracking as he made himself eye level with the child. "Do you know how to play chess, child?"

She nodded rigorously, the tears she shed for him now forgotten on her face.

Spock's subtle grin did not fade as he straightened himself out and took her small hand in his. "Let us pass the time with a game then. I used to be quite good, I haven't lost a game in decades. An old friend of mine used to taunt me for ages…" They strolled to the door slowly – Spock because of his age and the child because of her short legs. "He and I met one of your kind before. We called her Gem. We met her after travelling to the Minara system… which no one has probably discovered yet…"

Every Thursday his stories accompanied a chess match in which she would lose horribly. Sometimes a wayward Captain Kirk would stand outside of Recreation Room Three to hear snippets of the adventures he might one day face. He hoped that when those days came, Spock would always be there to be his loyal sidekick, or from the sounds of it, his savior.

Author's Note:

I just really wanted to write something for Spock. God, it must be lonely for him... literally living with the ghosts of his past. Even the most pleasant memories can hurt once you realize you'll never feel them again. Spock seems like the savoring type, so perhaps he's a tad OOC. I need to fix this up and add some more material, but its really late and I'm cutting into my sleeping schedule! Oh noes!

The song at the beginning is an oldy that most of you have probably heard before. I dare you to listen to it again and think of Spock Prime. My heart gets so heavy everytime it pops up on my iPod now. Go on! Listen to it! Someone make a music video out of it. You'd make more then one person cry.