For eerian-sadow
This was another of those human emotions that he needed better control of.
Jealousy.
It was ridiculous, or perhaps even pitiable, but those were the feelings unwillingly called to him as he watched his older doppleganger kneeling in front of the memorial. The dark robes on the old Vulcan's slender body stood stark against the bright sands of the new world the remains of their people had colonized.
Spock forced his face into stone, stepping forward with stiff movements. The grey-haired figure lifted his head slightly as the younger approached. "I knew I would find you here one day soon," he said.
Spock blinked, staring at the elder's back. "Of course you did," he replied. Anyone who knew Spock would have known that the moment they heard that Sarek had erected a personal memorial to his lost wife.
The elder stood, dusting his cloak off. He gazed at the young Starfleet officer a moment before speaking again. "You are displeased with my presence."
Spock's lips drew thin. "No. As I understand it, you helped Father finally decide to build this. Why should it concern me if you visit it?"
A twinkle came into the elder's dark eyes, a faint display of emotion that always surprised Spock. This version of himself was quite different from every other Vulcan of his age that Spock had ever known. "She was my mother, too," he said simply.
Spock pressed his lips together again. "Yes, I suppose she was." His elder just regarded him with mild curiosity.
"You are behaving oddly, my young friend," he said simply.
A thin sigh passed almost unheard from Spock's nose. "I simply do not understand why you display such mourning of her here in this time," he said. Only another version of himself would be able to hear the tightness in his tone. "She did not die so young where you come from."
The elder Spock gazed at the young one squashing down rigid control over himself. He didn't quite smile, but his mouth softened in a way that might suggest the expression. "Yes, she lived to quite an age," he said. "I foolishly spent most of that time concerned with the fact that she aged much rapidly than my father, rather than spending time or correspondance with her."
Spock tilted his head, gazing at the elder Vulcan with his brows drawn together. There was nothing he felt he could say to this, however, so he remained silent. the elder sighed quietly.
"I understand your point of view," he said. "It would be difficult not to. But it is not only the Amanda of this time that I mourn for, nor is she the only one."
With that, Spock was left by the small memorial to ponder why his elder self had looked so pointedly at him for that remark.
