~ Gone too Soon ~

Author: T'Jara

Rating: PG-13 (I should be safe with that)

Summary: Just a short vignette about how Sarek reacted to his son's deathafter ST:TWOK

Disclaimer: Star Trek, it characters and universe is owned by Paramount. I just burrowed them for a little while. I'm not making any money of this.

Note:

In know there has been much discussion about Sarek's parents from Star Trek III. For me, Sarek named his father (Skon) and his Grandfather (Solkar), not his father and mother. I also know that the official Star Trek chronology states that Sybok was only 7 years older than Spock, but in my opinion more time (up to 14 years) passed. They would still be growing up together and we also don't know whether Spock was conceived naturally so maybe there was a number of years between them that doesn't coincide with the pon farr.

After 12 years of writing, this is the first fanfic I ever publish(ed), so please bear with me. Also, English is not my first language, so forgive mistakes please. Please no archiving without my permission.

This one is for Mark Lenard

Who brought life to Sarek and inspired me to write this

In Starfleet ships travelled faster than light. Subspace messages did, too. Communication was essential to keep such a large governing body as the United Federation of Planets together. Therefore people where used to receiving a few personal or official messages each day. Some were plain text, others were "face to face" conversations via the videophone. Only on rare occasions news were delivered in person.

But if that was the case, they had to be quite important.

The young Vulcan attendant that brought Sarek that fateful letter was merely an adult. He seemed a little nervous – of course it took a Vulcan eye to catch his unrest. His lips seemed to tremble a little while he clenched his teeth. Also, he deferred to look at Sarek directly. If the older Vulcan hadn't been surprised by the actual paper letter that Starfleet Command sent him he definitely would've been insulted.

It was a little odd that really important messages were still printed on paper. Of course this letter hadn't arrived as "snail mail" as Amanda called it; postal services had become almost obsolete after the invention of the transporter. Yet, Starfleet chose to send out important news on paper if possible. Of course, most distances were too long to send out letters. But from one side of San Francisco Bay to the other was possible.

The letter that Sarek received came directly from Starfleet Command and was signed by the personnel officer Admiral Keating personally. It had been carried over from the Starfleet compound to the Vulcan embassy at San Francisco.

With anxious care Sarek unfolded the envelope and read the words. The First time around, he did not really comprehend their meaning. Yet the letter consumed him instantaneously. Only after the young male uneasily shifted from one foot to the other he nodded at him to be dismissed.

The attendant turned on his heel and left quickly. Sarek didn't pay attention as he had returned to the letter, still trying to grasp the meaning of the words.

Son... sacrificed life…fulfilment of duty...

Spock was dead. Just as the thought occurred it hit him with full strength. A tidal wave of emotion rose inside him as realization fell upon him. Closing his eyes he folded his hands, assuming a meditative posture to regain some composure.

He failed miserably.

There was no way he could now empty his mind; concentrate on controlling the pain inside him – it consumed him – from his pointed ears to his toes. While he kept control of his mind, the control of his body slipped. He tensed and felt a desire to move, there was no peace in sitting still. As fast as dignity allowed him, Sarek rushed out of his office. Without a word, he passed by his secretary and several aides – yet he didn't notice any of them. If they were human one might have stopped him, but they weren't – inspite of noticing their superiors changed mood.

He didn't pay attention to where his feet carried him. People, streets, flitters… everything just passed by him.

A few minutes later he found himself at one of the beaches in the San Francisco Bay. After a second he realized the oddity of his destination. Many years ago, when he had just been an attaché to the Vulcan ambassador he had walked these beaches quite regularly. First: Alone. The sandy beach resembled Vulcan and somewhat alleviated his homesickness. The cool breeze from the ocean however, did not.

Later on he and Amanda would stroll along these beaches quite often. Sarek never really understood why she took such great pleasure in walking the sand with bare feet or letting the water touch her feet while she collected shells. Maybe because he lacked this childish levity himself it fascinated him, and finally made him fall in love with her. Or, as he called: "Develop true affection".

The memories of Amanda soothed him for a second, but just for one. Like sandy footprints those were washed away and quickly replaced by other thoughts. Grief fastened it's grip on him. He shudderd inside and outside at the thought of delivering the news to his beloved wife. And she would be alone with her grief until he returned to Vulcan. This would be the hardest days of their lives; separate when they needed each others comfort the most. And separate when their closest link – their son – was gone.

Sarek pulled his robes tighter. It was an unusually warm day for San Francisco, but he felt cold. It was as if his body was putting all the energy on keeping him from a breakdown instead of keeping him warm.

Sarek had lost other dear friends and family members before. One of his earliest childhood memories was the death of his grandfather Solkar. Silence had captured his home for days, leaving the young and not yet fully trained boy in a weird position – he could not yet control such strong emotions. Only through a mind meld years later had he discovered how much his father Skon had really suffered. But he also learned how much Skon had wished Solkar to die. Solkar had been plagued by the Bendii-Syndrome for years and had only been a shadow of himself at last. And while he was mourning, Skon also knew that this was the circle of life: Children burry their Parents.

Parents do not burry their children. Spock had gone too soon!

Sarek quivered. His parents were old by now, even by Vulcan standards. Whenever he left them after a visit, the thought crossed his mind that this might be the last time he would see them alive. Sometimes he even caught himself thinking the same way about Amanda. But despite Spock's way of life that definitely encountered more danger that he would face on Vulcan – that thought had never come to him. Logic should've dictated that thought. Logic seemed to fail him where his son was concerned.

Spock had died because of the dangers inherent to his service in Starfleet. He had died in fulfilment of his duty. He had sacrificed his life to save the crew and his ship. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. Or the one. This was flawless logic.

To outsiders, especially humans, Spock had always seemed "more Vulcan than any Vulcan". The pointed ears and slanted eyebrows supported that image on his outside, his telepathic abilities and physical strength on the inside. Yet, there were more human traits to Spock that only a few people besides Sarek and Amanda saw.

One that had absolutely diminished had been his eyes. Like many human babies Spock had been born with sparkling blue eyes like Amandas'. And even after 8 weeks, when human children usually already had their final eye color – Spocks' were still blue. At some point Sarek had already believed that they would stay blue. There were only very, very few Vulcans with blue eyes, but Sarek's mother was one of them, so for a time, they assumed that Spock would keep his blue eyes, as Sarek clearly carried the recessive gene. But almost if the boy had decided to become a Vulcan, they turned brown after all.

And there were more subtle traits that Spock inherited. Spocks life hadn't been easy. Other Vulcan children had given the halfling a hard time until he passed the khas whan – which they perceived as a victory of his Vulcan half over his human half. Sarek knew better: He had felt it when teaching the toddler-aged Spock the first postures of meditation. There was an inner spirit in Spock, some form of curiosity and determination that was not Vulcan. It didn't diminish through Vulcan training. Though an evenly avid student, Sarek had never experienced it in Sybok. It was human – Amanda carried it within her – he had experienced it when they first melded.

Sarek knew that without this determination Spock would've never managed to master his feelings so well. A human trait had made it possible for Spock to become more Vulcan. It was odd: Sybok had always teased his younger brother because of his emotional reactions and his heritage, yet it was Sybok who had turned away from logic and Spock who had united his halfs into one whole and lived by the principles of Surak.

Sarek knew that Sybok was his failure. He hadn't been there in his early years. After his first wife T'Lan had shortly after during childbirth, Sarek had almost fled his homeworld, prolonging his duty on Earth which he had intended to give up so he could stay with his son. Sybok had then lived with his grandparents – Sareks parents. They were quite capable of raising a child, but they were no substitute for a father. Even Vulcan children needed the guidance and help of their father sometimes, especially if the mother was dead. And when Sarek finally returned he brought his future wife with him. It might have been easier for Sybok if his stepmother had been Vulcan. But she wasn't, and therefore Sybok kept his family at distance, even though the young Spock looked up to his bright brother. Sybok ignored it, completely occupied by his studies of Vulcan philosophy. Sarek didn't know when or how, but at some point, Sybok had met the V'tosh ka'tur. And they had offered what Sybok was lacking: a family. So he became one of them.

Everything Sarek had missed with Sybok, he lived through intensely with Spock. Even Sarek's mother had "scolded" him for not being so harsh with the young boy and to give him more time. Sarek had been stern, yet the boy had been eager to learn. Whether it was computers, science or mental training – Spock excelled and Sarek pushed him further. He encouraged Spock to keep his eyes open. He encouraged him to really understand and experience the IDIC-Principle.

Sarek often regretted that he had pushed Spock so far. His own teaching came back to haunt him when Spock decided he wanted to join Starfleet. They argued about it – without raised voices. Both of them were evenly stubborn and when they parted, Sarek refused to talk to his son again. For full 18 years they did not talk. What a waste of time… time that he was now missing. All of Sarek's success as Ambassador of the United Federation of Planets couldn't outweigh these two failures. He had lost both of his sons – one because he hadn't cared enough, the other because he had cared too much. Care that never ceased, even when the didn't talk to Spock.

For 18 years he had only been a bystander in Spocks life. News about Spock travelled to him through official channels and – through the family: Whether it was his parents, T'Pau or – most commonly – his wife Amanda. It was evident after only a few months that Spock had not abandoned what his father had taught him. In fact he lived up to it precisely. Still, Sarek neglected to settle things between them. It was purest irony that they only managed to set aside their differences because of Starfleet and because of the Federation.

After the Babel Conference they had grown together. They discovered each other anew and treated each other with due respect. They were teachers and students alike, each benefiting from the others' experience. But their time together was limited. Each had their responsibilities to comply to. These responsibilities kept them from taking the ultimate step – to mind meld. Neither of them had voiced his wish to do so – partly because both of them thought they still had time. But time was up.

This lapse angered Sarek. Regret was a highly illogical emotion which he had never experienced with such strength: He had never completed this last stage with his son. Another failure… because he had never been able to tell his son how dearly he loved him. It wasn't Vulcan to voice such emotions. But complete melds were intimate and required the unblocking of all emotional barriers – so Spock would've felt Sarek's deep affection. And Sarek in turn would've been able to really experience Spock. His couriosity, his determination, his spirit. His spirit…

Suddenly, the clouds of emotions cleared off. There was yet one chance to meld with his son: Spocks living essence – his katra. Spock had died to save the Enterprise, he had died in the presence of Admiral James T. Kirk, one of his best friends. Spock knew he was dying – was it possible that he had passed on his katra? No, Spock knew that passing on the katra to another species was dangerous. And Kirk hadn't brought Spock home, he had left him behind on Genesis. Or had he left Spock behind because Spock's spirit had indeed survived and had told him so? Maybe…

Hope calmed Sarek in an unusual way. Logic came back to him, and it showed one clear path. He had to see James Kirk as soon as he returned – maybe Spock's body was dead, but his katra was alive…