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.


2. two

When he awoke, Spock's memories had returned. But not the meeting with Sela. He awoke with tears on his face. Why was he crying? Spock never cried. Not once. He recalled walking into the briefing room. Then nothing, Spock was on the biobed leaned forward regaining what composure he had. He looked around to see sick bay was blue and white, very eye friendly. Spock knew his memories were eating away day by day. It was a genetic disease. One that haunted both humans and Vulcans alike. Incurable.

"Ambassador Spock." Came a man's voice.

Spock looked over to see a dark man with pointy ears coming over in a medical uniform. It was fascinating. This young man reminded him of Tuvok. But he wasn't Tuvok's descendant. He reminded him more of a young man he met on a far off planet during one of his trips as Ambassador with a 21st century Earth that had accomplished Warp Drive. The man was very eager to meet Spock. It was unusual how his friend pretended to be a Psychic.

"Are you all right?" The black Vulcan asked.

Spock stared point black at the black Vulcan, unsure what to say, logically the answer would be "All is well."

"Sorry to be bearer of bad news but it appears that you have Bendii's." The black Vulcan said.

Spock was silent at first.

"This is unexpected." Spock said. "I thought I would be spared of this."

"Do you remember where your quarters are?" The black Vulcan asked.

"Affirmative," Spock said. "I remember as you were flirting with the Orion security officer."

"We were not a thing." The black Vulcan said.

"Or so you say," Spock said. "But cherish every moment you have with her. Because that is all you will have by the time your end is coming." The doors came to a woosh letting in Captain Data. "Captain Data."

"Ambassador," Data said. "It appears your negotiation has swayed Sela into allowing Vulcans and Star Fleet to help them."

Whatever he went through earlier had likely helped his case into getting the Romulans to allowing for help. Spock still felt a void from within. It was isolating. It was a feeling that traveled down from his brain that felt like water traveling down a pipe. It was bubbling inside eating away at Spock. His face had a stoic expression that read nothing of his own concern of how he appeared to Sela. The emotional control was slowly slipping from his fingers. Spock could feel a heavy weight resting on his shoulders. One that had been haunting him since he was sixty-three. He was experiencing a emotional breakdown. Which was rare for a young Vulcan. But not as rare for the elders.

"Thank you for informing me, captain." Spock said.

Data came over then handed Spock the padd.

"You will need this," Data said. "To submit your resignation." The android turned in the direction of the doctor. "Doctor," Data turned in the direction of the Ambassador who's hands were trembling. "Ambassador. I have requested a emergency divergence to Vulcan. We will be there in two days, three hours, and forty-three minutes."

Data turned away then walked out of the med bay.

"Thank you." Spock softly muttered. He turned in the doctor's direction. "Am I discharged?"

The doctor nodded.

"Take it easy, Ambassador," The black Vulcan said. "You have the onset of Bendii's. Complete with dementia in its adolescence." Spock stared at the Vulcan. "Yes, you are discharged."

One of many things that Vulcans prided themselves over were their memory. Their control over their governing emotions. He came off the biobed holding the padd in his hand. He could feel the entire world around him was bleak. Dark. And there wasn't someone there who he could relate to. Maybe it was because he was just old. And his human half was poking out into the daylight. For a century and fifty-eight years Spock has been suppressing his human half from the general public. T'Pring, he loved her dearly, and they shared personal intimate mind melds to share their emotions about the given circumstance. They were very private Vulcans when it came to emotions. As Spock walked out of sick bay he thought of Doctor Leland.

One of their conversations he had. Actually, it was the last. Leland was being a concerned friend who apparently noticed something was eating away at him. The doctor had claimed he knew the Vulcan too well. And served with him long enough. It was a good point because Spock knew Leland like the back of his hand. He wasn't stubborn. He just found ways around death inadventurely. Not that he invalidated it, which was against Leland's own rules, he just found ways to avoid it without intending it. Leland was the kind of doctor who studied, examined, and tested the new illness much like a scientist. Spock would commonly find him reading a file regarding a new disease being discovered and neutralized. It was like one big novel to the doctor. The illness was the antagonist. The doctors were the heroes. The victims were the patients. Leland was a endearing but unusual man.

"A healthy dose of releasing emotions will surely help you,Ambassador." Leland had once said.

Spock had attended Leland's funeral thirty-three years, four months, two weeks, three days, eight hours, and forty-three minutes ago. Spock had known the man for over a hundred years. Which was impressive for a human. The last time Spock had seen the doctor: Leland had been a mess of wrinkles, his green eyes still shining, and his Russian accent following a ranting about a unusual subject. They had a fond farewell. Prior to Leland's death, decades ago Leland had been part of a medical colony. Spock discovered forty-three essays regarding the medicine, the illnesses, and various other subjects that earned the eyebrow being raised. He had searched through them on many visits to Vulcan curious of how the doctor was doing. His writing style was much like he was. His voice speaking off the padd explaining in detail.

Admiral Strong . .

He died a month before T'Pring.

Everyone he knew on the USS Endeavor were dead.

And Spock was the last crewmember alive.

"Live long and prosper,Doctor Sherik." Spock said, turning away from the door with the Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper, Ambassador." Sherik replied, saluting back.

Spock went through the open doors.


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