You open the old time novel, where the heart is gone, and the hero would be me

Part 8

McCoy was nervous. He claimed to be a recently gone missing admiral, Admiral Cartwright. Someone most captains never saw and refused to have their picture taken. Their activity was a little more than a mystery in and out of Star Fleet. He only knew Admiral Cartwright since they had a part in the Enterprises five year mission. Spock had discussed at length regarding the admiral's historic place in history. There were no photographs of Cartwright and people barely remembered what the admiral looked like. He was in attire that was consistent with the era. The doors slid open revealing two officers. Una and Ensign Kirk---McCoy's mind came to a screeching halt. He was frozen where he stood watching the two enter the conference room. Kirk had blue eyes rather than hazel. It was then that McCoy understood why Spock was unable to return. And anger replaced the understanding. He looked at the young man with confusion in his eyes. Green shirt? He didn't understand.

"Admiral," Jim said.

"Hello, there, Lieutenant," McCoy can see the eyes of his old friend on the young man. He didn't have the distinctive Kirk curl. He watched him walk over toward a chair. The way he walked was different. The way he carried himself: confident, kind, and helpful was strikingly Kirk. It was the distinctive way he carried himself. McCoy cleared his throat. "Why is Mr Spock not here?"

"He is busy," Una said.

"I am his assistant," Jim said. "What you need to tell him can be said to me."

"Are ya kiddin' me?" McCoy asked, looking toward Una. McCoy rubbed his temple. "Look," he placed his hands onto the table. "this is a problem that pertains to Mr Spock personally," McCoy briefly closed his eyes feeling the tingling of pain. He closed his eyes, fully, feeling like he had been shot in his side. Shot clear on through him, hot stinging pain. He saw a narrow hall that seemed to be sideways then straightened itself. McCoy propped himself up. Kirk came to the admiral's side. "I am fine, damn it."

"No, you're not," Jim said.

"Lieutenant," McCoy said, looking over toward the man. "I have a friend who is in need of a doctor."

"I know a doctor around here," Jim said.

"Someone who knows how to specialize in Vulcan physiology," McCoy said. "Katra-graft."

McCoy saw from over the man's shoulder was Spock using his wall as his support. McCoy saw his friend grip onto what was a seat then touch on a series of panels. The sound of doors closing behind him was soft, yet evident. Spock collapsed to into the chair covering his injury with disheveled hair. McCoy sat down. Spock's hair was slightly longer. They were mirroring each other. The image faded. McCoy was brought unconscious. He was in a dark astral plane that sent him soaring. He was being tugged. Further and further. Until he was transported into familiar scenery. It became apparent. McCoy knew what this memory was about. In fact, Spock had repeated gone to it over and over and over and over after Jim's death. McCoy experienced shame and regret and guilt and sadness and despair. The pain was no longer there. This was Spock's final moments. He was going over it. Standing there alone. The scene changed before the admiral. No longer was at a park but preparing to leave with Kirk cleaning the plates. Jim smiled back, beamingly, with a wash cloth. He had his sleeves rolled up.

"Can I go with you for this mission?" Kirk asked.

"Jim, you are allergic to them," Spock said.

"Still," Kirk said. "I go with you on most of your diplomatic missions."

"I do not wish to bring harm to you as my duties of Ambassador entails," Spock said, coming to his side.

"I am not fragile yet, Mr Spock," Kirk wiggled his index finger at the man.

"I am aware of that, Ashaya," Spock said. "I will return in two weeks."

Kirk nodded.

"Let's not forget this," Kirk said.

Kirk came over toward him then stood on the tips of his toes clenching onto the Vulcan's shoulders where he brought him into a light kiss. Spock's hands traveled to the side of the human's face as he continued the kiss. McCoy felt like he was intruding on a special moment. Not a bad moment to relive. Over and over and over and over again. It was Spock who broke it off with a smile of his own. McCoy knew it, he knew the Vulcan had in fact been smiling. Which is where he got the laughter lines from. It was Jim's doing. All of it. A tearful smile grew on McCoy's face seeing them happy together. Spock's fingers trailed the side of the admiral feeling reluctant to leave.

"What was that for?" Spock inquired.

"Good luck," Kirk said.

"I don't need good luck when I have it by my side," Spock said. He picked up the duffle bag. "Until I see you again." He turned in the direction of the doors then made his path toward it.

"I love you!" Kirk said, as the Vulcan made his way out through the doors.

McCoy stood there as the scene swept away.

"Ya never said I love ya back to him?" McCoy said. "Spock!" he came to the Vulcan's side. "That's a terrible way of spending your final moments! Jim knew you loved him." he shook his head, unable to understand why Spock had chosen this. "Torturin' ya'self with this is somethin' Jim is not goin' to be happy about when he sees ya again."

Spock turned toward the human.

"You are invading my mind," Spock said. "You do not belong here."

"I belon' in a multitude of places," McCoy said. "We can agree on that," he gestured toward the Vulcan. "Get up and send a distress call," Spock stepped forward. McCoy did not budge. "I am not leavin' ya."

"Then how are you here?" Spock asked.

"I really don't know," McCoy said. "Ya brought me here is the only answer," McCoy stepped forward. "I said live long and prosper, not die before me!"

"That is selfish wanting to ensure my life just for your own satisfaction," Spock said. "You do not have long."

McCoy briefly closed his eyes then reopened them.

"It gives me emotional security," McCoy said. "That you're still around keeping the federation whole."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Doctor, Ambassador Picard is fully capable of taking over where I have left off," Spock explained. "he is more suited."

McCoy shook his head.

"I can't take losin' ya, again," McCoy said, placing a hand on the elder's shoulder. "It will kill me that I couldn't save ya when I could."

"Dying by heart break," Spock said. "I have heard of instances."

"At my age, another heartbreak would be fatal," McCoy held his hand out for the elder. "Don't do this to me."

"Leave," Spock said. McCoy bravely held his hand out for the elder.

"Together or not at all," McCoy said. "Ya once said that to me."

"You were my crewmate," Spock said. "I had a obligation to ensure your continued survival."

"Ya are my friend," McCoy said. "I know ya don't want to be the last one alive. . . Just like me." McCoy's hand was laid out for the Vulcan. "But maybe ya do not have to spend the rest of your life alone."

Spock raised his head up raising his right eyebrow out of concern. McCoy's hand was held out in a offer. McCoy nodded his head, as though certain about his decision. Spock looked toward the man. The man was young in his mind compared to himself. No more was the bags under his eyes, no more was the grayed hair, and no more was his disheveled fuzzy hair. Spock slowly reached his hand out for the human and held onto it.