Rated: T
Pieces
1.
The days after the Genocide were a blur. Reports, debriefings, media attention, piles of paperwork. She got little sleep, and she knew that Spock was getting even less. She knew he spent his non-working hours at the embassy. She could only hope that he was looking after himself.
She sent him at least one message daily. She got no reply and she expected none. Little more than, "I'm thinking of you" or "Let me know if I can do anything to help." Just something to remind him that she cared, that he was not alone.
She felt helpless, useless to him. What can anyone do to ease the pain of watching your mother and your world die? How do you pick up the pieces?
2.
She was gone. His wife, friend, lover. Gone in a heart-wrenching instant. No goodbye. He found himself reaching for her in his mind only to be met with a wall of silence, a vast emptiness where his whole world once rested. He had known she would die first. But not like this. No, never like this.
He opened his eyes after meditating, seeing, accepting, and compartmentalizing the grief. Beside him sat his son, all that was left of his family. His beautiful son who carried the very best of both himself and Amanda.
He sensed his son's struggle. There were so many pieces of Spock's life to reassess, reorganize, reconsider. Logic would help, but it would not be enough. Amanda had taught him that.
But Sarek knew, even if his son could not acknowledge it, where surcease would be found.
3.
Spock awoke with tears in his eyes, his breath irregular. He found that he was not disturbed by the fact that his father saw him thus. He closed his eyes, faced the nightmare and the grief and the rage, and put them away, for now. He gathered the pieces of his existence that remained, drew strength from them, and opened his eyes.
He walked to the terminal in their suite and opened the latest communication from Nyota. "I will be here when you are ready," it read.
He'd read every note, every day. Each one something tangible to cling to while he caught his breath. He'd had nothing left within him to reply. But this morning he felt his father's hand on his shoulder, and knew he at last had an answer.
"Soon, k'diwa. Soon."