The Women He Loved- Nyota
"All The World Is Changed"
They had finished the de-briefing four point- six hours ago and he had immediately retreated to his quarters. Meditation would do him no good. He had tried. He had…failed. The cool, red, glow of the remnants of his efforts were the only illumination in an otherwise pitch black room. He had failed. He could not save her and, he…grieved.
Each moment was still fresh, the pain still sharp. The… feelings of joy, of passion, of…life. He had felt those things. He had lived those things. He had…cherished…those things. And ultimately, he had lost those things.
She had died five-thousand years ago…and yesterday was today.
He had lived a life of restriction, of adamant, un-yielding loyalty to logic. He had sacrificed for logic. He had slaved for logic, and yet- ultimately it had failed him, leaving him bare and open. He felt…and it hurt.
The sound of the door beeped for entry, sounding like a far away call to his sensitive ears. He did not respond. He had requested to not be disturbed…
***
What had possessed her to come here she did not know. What she would say to him she did not know. They were not exactly friends, far from being lovers. And still- she knew.
She had known. The moment she had seen him upon the landing party's return to the ship- she had known. She could read him better than anyone. She had always been able to do so. She could feel his hurt though he said nothing. He maintained his normal demeanor. But still, she could tell.
And now, four hours later, she was here at his door. One finger paused in the air. Finally, she made her decision and quickly keyed in his code, surprised when the doors opened for her. It had been years since the last time she had used it…and in that time, it had never changed.
Instantly she was confronted by a sea black. She stepped forward tentatively into the darkness, the doors swooshing closed behind her. "Spock?"
She was greeted by silence instantly felt foolish. But as she turned to leave she heard him. "I am here."
She became aware of the dim glow of the firepot in the corner, and slowly her eyes adjusted to the absence of light and she could make out his form. He was unlike she had ever seen him. And it occurred to her, that no one else would ever see their first officer like this. He would not allow it.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his normally straight shoulders slumped, his head down. The sound of his voice was hoarse and gravelly- far from its normal rich tenor. The air around them was thick with emotion and she realized that what she was feeling…this…heaviness…this…weight…this sorrow… was his. She had been feeling him. His emotions were so strong he was projecting. And suddenly, seeing him there….in that moment, nothing more mattered. He was there. And he was hurting. And she hurt for him.
It was in the darkness that she moved, her body nothing but a shadow as she knelt before him. She could feel the warmth rolling off his body as she perched at his knees, placing her hand gently upon his thigh as she tried to reach him.
"Spock, look at me."
Through the darkness she saw him move his head, and raise his face to hers...she can feel his eyes upon her…and she knows…because she sees her own reflection in them.
And then…all the world seemed to pause.
***
He feels a presence kneel at his feet, a soft hand resting gently on his thigh. The touch is like the glint of knife slicing through the well of his despair. Like a beacon it grows wider…brighter and more vivid and somewhere in that light he hears her…
"Spock, look at me."
He raises his head to hers, allowing their eyes to meet and he feels...pulled.
It is a force he can't put in words...but he feels...
He feels her... and through the darkness…he sees her.
"Spock."
She calls his name again and slowly the darkness around him begins to fade until all there is, is her.
He hears his name on her lips, as he takes in the curve of her face, the width of her eyes and the set of her mouth. He has not been this close to her since…No. Those memories he cannot bear to think on but his head will not comply.
Her voice fills his mind with images from time past. What he had worked to leave buried brought to the surface by his own powerful emotions from the day's events and her presence here. Why? Why was she here? To serve as a living embodiment of his failure?
"Spock."
It is her voice that calls to his memory, each frame each moment each time and pause calling back to him like a list – the first time he saw her…the first time he held her, the first time he kissed her…the first time he left her. HE left Her, failed her…He had failed, and he had failed her.
He had been a coward when he left Leila.
Hat felt the bitter sting of betrayal by T'Pring.
He had refused to hope, to wish and to dream- unlike Christine.
He had learned to admire inner strength- shown to him by the Romulan.
And Droxine had shown him beauty alone was simply not enough.
In Zarabeth he had felt passion and desire…and…love…but it was…not enough.
And now as he sat…contemplating the face in front each woman each moment whizzed through his thoughts…and he realized…
He had wasted years searching for something he could not identify, for something he would not name. And yet, here, in this moment…everything he desired… had been right in front of him the entire time.
Every single time, at every single point- she had been right there and he was too blind to see it- Too stubborn to acknowledge it. But now he could refuse no longer.
Zarabeth was gone from him. She had loved him. She had revealed his inner self- showing him what he could be and should be. But that was five thousand years ago…and right now, his future- was looking right at him. And she had been there all along.
Breaking through the wall of darkness he spoke HER name…a name that had constantly bordered on the edge of his thoughts. And now, after everything…he could finally speak what he'd spent years refusing to acknowledge…
And now the darkness fades, the shadows retreat and soon he sees everything with intense lucidity. And in that moment all the world is changed and the silence between them is broken as he says HER name.
"Nyota."
-The End-
The face of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole
God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,
And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.
The names of country, heaven, are changed away
For where thou art or shall be, there or here;
And this . . . this lute and song . . . loved yesterday,
(The singing angels know) are only dear
Because thy name moves right in what they say.
Sonnet Seven from, " Sonnet's from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Author's Note: Thank you to the women of Writer's Anonymous and the STCC Writer's Guild. Thank you to everyone who waited for over Five months for this story to be completed, I had not planned for it to take that long (especially considering there are only eight chapters). What started off as something that was meant to be less serious, really turned into a sort of character study for me. So I thank you all for hanging around long enough to see this story to its completion. And for those of you waiting on something new from me, please stay tuned. I have received many requests to do a Sarek and Amanda fic. Since the TOS side is full of them, I have decided to switch back to the 2009 AU, where my Sarek/Amanda story called, "Alekhine's Gun" will be posted. Look out for the Prologue tomorrow.
