He had always hated seeing his Mother cry.
The Vulcan half of him understood that despising a natural, albeit useless, human emotion was illogical. The Human half of him needled at his conscience to try it on occasion, for purely experimental reasons, of course.
Spock had never understood the many variations of crying. His Mother had told him that to understand them you had to know the situation from which it was derived from.
His Father had told him that his Mother had cried at his birth. If he concentrated he could just barely conjure a memory of his Mother wiping away tears as he went off on his first day of school.
She had cried the times when he came home with a bloody lip and when he had graduated. He also realized, with some sense of what he believed might be the human emotion of guilt, that she had cried when he decided to go to Starfleet.
She had wiped invisible lint of his clothing and smoothed down his hair. She did everything she could think of to avoid saying 'good-bye.'
"Oh my baby's all grown-up," she had mumbled.
"You have known this for sometime Mother. I have not been a baby for many years."
"Oh, I know that sweetie. It's just hard for a mother to let go."
Spock had nodded and allowed his Mother to fuss over him as it seemed to be keeping her together. He should've let it go, but he had needed to know.
"Mother, why are you crying? I understand that you," he had hesitated, "feel sad, but I assure you Starfleet is the proper decision and will aid me in reaching my fullest potential."
"Spock these aren't tears of sadness, but tears of joy," she had smiled, taking his hands in hers.
"So you are happy to see me leave?"
"Of course I am. It means I've succeeded in being a parent. I'm crying because I'm so proud of you. I'm so incredibly proud of who you are and what you've accomplished and what I know you'll continue to achieve at Starfleet."
"I thank you Mother."
She had smiled and wrapped her arms around him. He had not hesitated to return the embrace. He hadn't even noticed the tears that had clung to his shirt.
In the isolation off his quarters on the Enterprise, Spock sat on the edge of his bed as the memories of his Mother played out in front of his eyes. Her beautiful smile, her shining eyes, her laugh that had sounded like bells, the unconditional love that she had shown him. All there, all so real in his mind.
And now she was gone.
It was all his fault. If only he had been faster…
She was gone.
She was never coming back.
For the first time in his life, he understood what tears were meant for.
For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to cry.
