A Secret Place

by Omega

And then, silence. As it had been after the severance of his bond with T'Pring so many years before.

He who had walked alone, most often by choice, faced the solitude again.

McCoy had brought him the news out of respect and abiding affection. He grew to appreciate the doctor's crusty ministrations during the next few weeks as he faced memorial preparations and the like.

He was Vulcan by birth and by choice. Such should have quelled any whispers that he was heartless in not displaying his grief. He and Jim had not been open with their bond, for Starfleet would have separated them. But all knew of their deep friendship.

"Would it kill him to shed a tear?" he heard an engineer mutter to a crewmate when he passed during an inspection of one of the new science vessels.

I would not shed one tear, crewman.
I would shed a thousand.
And it would not bring Jim back or heal the void within me.

Seventy years later, McCoy was the one who informed him of Jim's true death. He traveled to Viridian II and stood before the rock cairn, the old Enterprise insignia shining in the twilight.

He knelt on the ground, a finger tracing the familiar contours.

Grief welled up within him once again and he felt no need to maintain the faŤade.

He sensed Picard's presence behind him and could hear the faint whirring of McCoy's exoskeleton. He could not bring himself to care.

A tear fell, burning a hot trail down his face.

Spock, care for a game of chess tonight? I'll try to hold off on the radical maneuvers.
Spock, what is this? Holding up a PADD displaying his resignation from the Fleet.
Spock, will you stay? I need you.
For better, for worse, come hell or high water. I love you, t'hy'la.

He bowed his head, feeling McCoy rest a frail hand on his shoulder.

He wept.

~end

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