Final Farewell






























































Title: Final Farewell Author: ZiKerag (zikerag@yahoo.co.uk) Series: TOS Pairing: S/Mc Rating: U (Nothing naughty at all) Parts: 1 of 1 Date: October 2002 Feedback: All comments are welcome and appreciated! Archive: Feel free if you really feel like it. Just let me know so I can visit. Disclaimer: The usual. Note: This follows on from Jazz Mans Tragedy. McCoy is dead. Now its Spocks turn to die. Spock stood at the foot of McCoy's grave. His body was old and his arms lied limp at the sides of his body. His back slightly arched forward. It was time; he knew it. He took a deep breath and then began: "I am sorry, Leonard. I have not been here in awhile. I cannot blame work, as I have not worked for many years, as I have told you. I cannot blame my health, even if it is getting worse by the day. I cannot find anything to blame really. Time just seems to have passed me by, and I suddenly found it was almost ten years since I last visited you. The only thing that has taken my time is meditating and doctors." He stopped, realizing what he said. A slight smile appeared on his face and a short, little laugh escaped. "It is funny," he continued "that part of my excuse of coming to Earth was to get away from them. The first thing I do upon arriving is to go and see another doctor. Not that the doctors on Vulcan would let me come all this way on my own. I have to have a nurse with me all the time." He turned his head and upper part of his body to look at the nurse who was standing about 20 meters away behind him. She was erect with her hands clasped behind her back. Next to her was a wheelchair. "That is her over there. She is very nice but young. She is too much in command of her emotions to even understand a joke, let alone laugh. 'Jokes are illogical' she tells me all the time and 'laughing is the result of an irrational human emotion'. I just tell her she should try it first." Spock sighed and turned back to look at the gravestone again. "I always need a wheelchair these days too," he said with a resigned voice that did not cover his embarrassment at being dependent on others all the time every day. "It is not that I can not walk. I walked from Nurse T'Pie to here with no problems but that is just about the limit of it. Even getting her to let me do that, so I could talk to you privately, took a lot of effort. I have something to say, if you have not guessed already, Leonard, I am dying. It is slow, not painful, and its work is nearly over. I came here today to say one final goodbye, before it was too late." "What else was there, besides my loss of memory? Ah, yes, I checked on your great grandchildren and they are doing fine. I have not spoken to any of your family since you were buried. I was too busy afterwards and when I had the time it was too late. I had lost contact with them and could not find any traces trough official channels. It was only a month or so ago that one of Chekov's decedents, I forget which one - there are so many these days, came to visit me. He wanted to talk about life on the Enterprise. He was an Admiral but he looked younger than us when we started at the academy." Another slight smile and a little laugh that turned in to a cough. Spock's mind was filled with memories of the Enterprise and his and McCoy's constant bickering. He did not know where all these thoughts had come from. Spock regained his composure and continued. "Anyway, he was very impressed with the amount of information I could give him and took extensive notes and numerous holographic images of myself and my house. In return he said he would do his best to track down as many members of your family as possible for me. I thanked him and a couple of weeks later he contacted me with the results of his investigations. It seems you are about to become a great-great- grandfather." Spock suddenly took in a sharp breath and stood bolt upright. His hands shot to his head and held his temples. Nurse T'Pie took a few steps forward to come to Spock's aid but withdrew as Spock relaxed and his hands moved slowly back to his sides. Spock did not understand what had happened. He had never had an incident like that before. It was nothing to do with his illness. That did not happen. Nothing ever happened with this illness. That's what made it so nasty, he would just fade away. He felt as if something had been inside him. For a split second he had sensed Doctor McCoy but it was not the angry Doctor McCoy he had known and loved. This Doctor McCoy was happy, at peace with everything and *still* loved Spock. He had sensed it. Perhaps it had just been because of the intense feelings he was having, like those from the Enterprise, but this was by far much stronger. Much stronger than anything he had ever experienced, stronger than any mind meld. It was as if McCoy had been inside him, more a soul meld than mind meld. It's strange the tricks the mind plays on you when you are near the end of your life. He *knew* what had happened now. It was difficult to believe, even harder to understand and impossible to explain. Spock's heart filled with happiness. All this time he believed he was alone and Len had left him years ago but it was not true. He had never really believed in the afterlife. There was no proof that there was anything after death. There again, there was no proof that there was nothing after death. Spock's head filled with questions, synopsis, probabilities and theories. He could find no convincing answers or arguments to resolve anything. There was no point anyway. All would be revealed to him in a short while when he was dead. *That* word again. He knew on Vulcan that preparations were well underway for him to have a hero's burial because of his work over the centuries. They could keep it, as far as he was concerned. "What is the point?" he would always say when asked about it. He would be dead and not there to appreciate it. "Nurse T'Pie, would you come here please?" he called to the nurse. She always arrived far too quickly for Spock's liking. He did not know if it was him or if she had some sort of personal site-to-site transporter. "How can I help you, Ambassador?" she inquired politely. "Help me kneel down for a moment, would you?" He hated being called "Ambassador" these days. Being an ambassador was something he had not been in many years but he also knew Nurse T'Pie was too inflexible to change so there was no point in having an argument over what she should call him. The nurse helped him down by steadying him by holding on to his left arm. Once on one knee he kissed the tips of his fingers on his right hand and placed his hand next to Len's name on the stone. "Goodbye from this life, old friend. We go back a long way. I hope we will go forward even more." The nurse helped him stand up again and he turned to walk back to his wheelchair. "I know we planned to stay here six days. Could we change it to be two weeks?" he asked the nurse. "I will ask that of the doctors on Vulcan. I do not believe they will allow it." She replied. Spock said nothing. It would be two weeks. He might be old and time might be short but he still had some tricks left, a few last favours to call in. Two weeks would be long enough. He was not going back to Vulcan and some pompous funeral. Two weeks was enough for him to die and be buried here next to Leonard. There would be no need for a final farewell. The end.