Out of his shell

What if they never served on the same ship and never became the legendary crew Star Fleet regarded? What if they all met at a nursing home? What if it Spock was in a shell of his own? Much like Jim would be. And all it took was McCoy to be there to tow them both out as much as he will regret it. Inspired by Jim Carrey's second parody of Star Trek in living color.

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"Ambassador." Spock's eyes opened to a familiar cool blue themed scenery. Where was Sulu,Chekov,Uhura,Scotty, and McCoy? He turned his head toward the right. Alongside him was Doctor Cameron and Nurse Brockley. Apparently Spock was on a Biobed. "Good afternoon. Did your nap help?"

"I do not nap." Spock said. "I most certainly did not fall asleep while eating."

"Ambassador," Cameron said. "A few hours ago you were acting strangely." Spock was baffled, he didn't recall any unusual activity from himself. "You were . . ." She briefly pressed her lips together. "Acting as though you were a science officer aboard the USS Enterprise."

"I did not have any episode most certainly." Spock said. "I was thinking of the one time I made my farewell to those who were still alive around me."

"And how real was it?" Cameron asked.

"It was a flashback. Brief." Spock said,watching their faces falter.

"It wasn't brief." Brockley said.

"Of course it was." Spock said.

"You kept insistin' Bones not call you Spooky when he was not." Brockley said.

"And you called several of the nurses by different names and you kept asking where Captain Pike was." Cameron said. "You were . . . emotionally. . . unstable after we told you the answer you wanted."

Spock was silent.

"We took a scan of your brain and the dementia has returned to its previous progression that you had when you arrived." Brockley said.

Spock looked at the three professionals.

"What do you mean by returned?" Spock asked. "My dementia cannot change on its own."

"Apparently, in the last brain scan. . . " Cameron said. "Various parts of your brain were returning to life. But the part that controls your emotions is somewhat dead. And your memories on the other hand are. . . I can't say for certain. But the part that controls your short term memories is dying."

"Long term is okay." Brockley said.

"What day is it, Ambassador?" Cameron asked.

"January 5th,Friday,2388." Spock said.

The color on their faces drained.

"It is. . . the seventh." Brockley said.

Cameron took Brockley to the side then made a request. Brockley slowly nodded then glanced over toward the Vulcan with a long but sad expression on his face. It had been two days since the conversation in the mess hall. What happened between then and now? Spock must have said he would visit Jim in the death ward. Something happened between that time period. Because the last time his memories were going it was when Spock was in his most saddest state. He could feel what was equivalent to sadness pouring down his head right toward the heart. He had degraded to his most youthful self after the nexus point between happy and sad.

"When did I start acting unlike myself?" Spock asked.

"Yesterday." Brockley said.

Brockley came over opening a small orange capsule then slid the pill onto the counter beside the biobed.

"Ambassador," Cameron said. "This pill will help you with the short term memory loss."

"What is Captain Kirk's condition?" Spock asked

"He is dying." Cameron said.

Spock picked up the pill off the counter and then a nearby cup of water. He swallowed the pill then took a sip of water. Spock could hear his stomach grumble. Obviously he must have collapsed late that afternoon yesterday after possibly attempting to escape and to see for himself that the captain was dead. Or someone late that afternoon had nerve pinched Spock. He was being illogical then. He could have checked the files unless he believed he was on an alien planet that had brainwashed him into thinking he is old but really not.

"If I made any choice words toward you, Mrs Cameron and Mr Brockley, regarding this facility then know that I was not being sincere." Spock said. He looked over to see a small green block. It was something entirely new. "When did Star Fleet incorporate these?"

"That's a fruit block." Cameron said. "Been in the system for a century."

Spock took a bite out of the block.

The block had a neutral taste much like plomeek soup that lacked any spice. It is what made plomeek soup so curious to humans and as a source of creativity. T'pring once was part of a Vulcan Kitchen franchise when Spock was serving Star Fleet as an officer. Those old videos were something he rarely looked at when alone during his Ambassador duties after her passing. He had his bond with her repaired shortly after her passing. Spock chose not to wed again. There was chicken noodle plomeek soup, garlic plomeek soup, and potato plomeek soup. Plomeek soup was widely considered to be the most basic and perhaps the template for creative cooking for a novice within the galaxy. Spock took another bite.

"It is two thirty-three o'clock,Ambassador." Brockley handed the cane toward the Vulcan.

Spock pulled himself up taking hold of the cane held out for him then swallowed what he had eaten.

"Where is Leonard and the others?" Spock asked.

"In the death ward." Cameron said. "Take it easy on yourself."

Spock finished the rest of the green shaded block. This tided over Spock's stomach. How could he not have known about this block? Perhaps he is that forgetful. How does a dying brain come back to life? It was mind boggling at best. Spock nodded with "Affirmative." toward the doctor. Spock got himself off the biobed. He pushed forward his left leg that felt like it didn't want to move. There was slight pain that came from that. Spock walked forward using his good right leg to rely on. Old age was indeed a pain in the ass.

"Mister Spock," Brockley said. "They have been waiting for you."

Spock exited the room.

"If Mister Spock regresses down any further. . ." Cameron said. "I hate to suggest it, but we have to do the humane treatment."

"The Ambassador wouldn't accept it." Brockley said.

"Accept it? He does not have to accept it. I am his doctor. Besides, we'll only use it when . . ." Cameron paused, trembling. "There is no chance of the Ambassador we know and love coming back."

"That treatment is only for when one of the residents here are in pain that they can't continue to live with," Brockley said. "I don't know about you but Ambassador Spock appointed the Admiral as his guardian when he cannot speak for himself. How would you have to convince Bones? I am all in for easing their pain but not for someone like the Ambassador. He is not in pain."

"Right." Cameron said, coming over to a pad on the table. "That does throw a wrench with all things considered." She looked over toward Brockley. "Have you ever had to take care of a patient with Irumodic Syndrome?"

Brockley narrowed his eyes.

"You know as well as I do that most patients do not end up here." Brockley said.

"We have quite the few." Cameron said.

"Don't tell me you had to take care of a hybrid before." Brockley said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Worse." Cameron said. "A Romulan/human hybrid. He was a hundred ninety-three when we got together. . . And then he went down hill from there five months after our ceremony."

Brockley lowered his hand down from the bridge of his nose right to his side.

"Oh my. . . I am so sorry." Brockley said.

"I am only considering that option for the sake of everyone." Cameron said.

Brockley sighed.

"Who is the few we have that are the subject of Irumodic Syndrome?" Brockley said.

"Lankern Deches, Pavel Chekov, Koren Le'Dio of Bajora, Former Admiral Joseph Green, former arch nemesis of Captain Kirk Mister Vincible, and former Admiral Jason Webber," Cameron said. "Thank you for being here when the Ambassador awoke. . ." She had a look of gratitude on her face. "And convincing me to take him off . . ."

"As McCoy told me," Brockley said. "Vulcans are resilient. Now excuse me, I have a painting class to start."

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