Jul 282009
 

Title: Egotistical and Self-serving
Fandom: ST XI
Characters: Spock, Spock!Prime
Rating: G-
Warnings: None
Notes: Anonymouse wanted some non-shippy Spock!Prime hugs. Best way to get those was a bit of Spock & Spock!Prime — it’s kind of a rewrite of the farewell at the shuttle.


From this prompt:
Every time I see/think about Spock Prime, I just want to hug him! I can’t be the only one…

Option A: 5 (or more/less) times someone wanted to hug Spock Prime, and 1 time the said "To hell with it" and actually hugged him. Bonus if it isn’t Jim or his Papa that hugs him

Option B: A drabble/ficlet where someone hugs Spock Prime

There is no need for pairings, in fact, I’d prefer if there was no romance involved… but if you have to, Spock Prime/Pike has somehow wiggled itself into my brain.


It was like looking at the ghost of himself. Here he stood, in the shadow of his own image — the image of a hero and a famed negotiator — and realised how little faith he’d had in himself, before this. But, somewhere, he’d become the Alpha Quadrant’s household Vulcan, and while that legacy was entirely intimidating, it was hard to stay intimidated by himself. Embrace what you are, he told himself, and know that these days are coming. It seemed like sound advice, even coming from the decidedly emotional half-Vulcan he would become.

But the Ambassador — Selek, he called himself, now — was strangely comfortable with those emotions. He had less of them, it seemed, because he wasn’t upset at having them, and that was something it would take Spock a long time to learn. And for all that he burned with curiosity, there were some things Selek refused to share — not to ruin the surprise, he claimed. In some ways, he thought he was envious of himself, in both directions — Selek wanted to be younger, to do it all again, and Spock wanted the wisdom and the acceptance that came with age. But, each of them was a slightly different incarnation — a slim shift in the structure of the universe. A butterfly flapped its wings on Risa, a sun went supernova, and two half-Vulcans lost everything they loved.

He’d said goodbye. Selek had made a joke of it, in that surprising manner he had, and Spock had started to walk away. But, something hung between them, unfinished.

"Ambassador," Spock said, quietly, turning back, "thank you."

Selek raised his eyebrow, and Spock could read every nuance of it. For what? it asked. And, you know you’re going to, and I won’t stop you. And, this is the beginning of becoming what you are, but don’t imagine that my answers will be yours.

"You left everything to preserve the things you had, for me and for Jim. I don’t claim to understand that, but I think I would have done it." Spock crossed the space between them, again, looking into the air that separated them, rather than directly at Selek. "Give this to father, for me. Tell him I love him."

Nodding to himself, for confidence, Spock wrapped his arms around Selek, capturing his older self in an embrace that should have rippled the fabric of reality, and perhaps it did. It was a terribly un-Vulcan thing to do, but neither of them was all Vulcan.

"I would say I love you, too, but that might be egotistical and self-serving," Spock joked, after Selek’s example.

It was a new world — one with a different future — one in which he could be in two places at once, or in one place at the same time. In that moment, they were all of the above.