Disclaimer: Why, sure. ParaBorg owns everything, I own this story. Rating: PG, TOS, 1/1 Summary: Challenge story from the Spock and Christine mailing group Feedback: YES!!! Roisin_Fraser@hotmail.com
"You just couldn't be there for her, could you, you cold-hearted bastard?" The voice was McCoy's, lashing out in his hurt and anger and sorrow. Though in the past Spock had dealt with many such outbursts, he found he no longer had the patience for it.
Spock turned to face him. "It was her choice, Doctor. And that is the first and the last time I will speak of it."
McCoy was past caring, past listening to the dangerous flatness in the Vulcan's voice. He had lost patients before, but to lose Chris like this seemed a violation of the natural order of the universe. "Whaddya mean it was her choice? As much as she loved you, she would have wanted you with her at the end."
Spock folded his arms, ignoring the impulse to slam the other man up against the wall. What did he know of all that lay between he and Christine? What did he know of the aching pain of separation and death? Especially this death. //I can go on,// he thought, //but it is not the same. It will never be the same.// Slowly, forcing a calm he did not feel because this man had been Christine's friend, he replied, "It is as I said. She did not want me with her at the end. We had discussed it...she was afraid I would follow."
Looking at the grief-carved lines in the Vulcan's face, the doctor decided she might well have been right. Chris was gone, but the living still needed healing. He walked close to Spock, almost, but not quite, touching his arm. "Come," he said, "would you like to see your daughter?"