Title: One Wore Blue and One Wore Gray
Series: TOS, AU
Parings: S/Mc, Sa, Twinlets
Summary: Spock’s death in TWOK was permanent. The twins, growing up hearing stories about their
father, each have a different view on what he would have wanted from their lives.
Disclaimer: I don't own TOS. I never have, and I never will. Star Trek and all of its relations are property of Paramount and Viacom. I only own this story. Anybody who
has a problem with the thought of men in homosexual relationships with each other, please stay away. Flames and feedback are
welcome. Please ask before putting this anywhere.
Notes: This requires some explaining. The twinlets will show up in my stories from time to time. Try not to think about logistics
right now. This is an AU. I’m sorry since this only has a hint of a plot and not a real plot. It’s not sad, so
don’t worry. And
about the title, bonus points to anybody who's not Farfalla who can explain it.
Wore Blue and One Wore Gray
Elliot stood in the mirror, adjusting the collar on his jacket.
His Vulcan side told him that his feelings were ridiculous, but his human heritage told him how difficult it was to believe
that he was here, now, living a life that was not really his own.
Memories flooded his mind, as he stood before the mirror, adjusting
the collar in the same nervous energy his dad had always demonstrated. He had always been more Vulcan than human, just like
his father, but somehow, he adapted to nervousness in a more human manner. The very action brought him back to the past. How
nervously his dad had been fixing his jacket the night he and his sister had been dropped off at their grandparents’
on Vulcan for the month that his parents were to be on the training mission.
Memories of how during dinner one night, their grandfather
had paled and simply excused himself from the dinner table. Memories of how their grandmother screamed and cried for days
afterward. Memories of how their dad had come for them, trying to break the news gently, and of the tears streaking his face,
the redness of his eyes. Elliot recalled how his Dad had not really cried, not shown weakness, at least not in front of them.
He tried too hard to protect them and keep them happy.
He remembered the sorrow that followed their Dad around like
a loyal dog to its owner, how despite the efforts of his friends and even the support of his grandparents’, their Dad
remained faithful to their father, never looking at another in all the years since the failed mission.
What Elliot remembered most of all was how their Dad would
idolize their father, telling the stories of his brave heroics. Elliot remembered sitting on his dad’s knee, listening
to the stories of how his father, brilliant Starfleet scientist, solved the mystery of V’ger. Or how he had saved a
planet, and their God-cousin Peter Kirk, while blind. Elliot had never felt closer to either of his parents than when he was
listening to Leonard McCoy talk about Spock.
And Elliot had become enchanted from the beginning. The world
of his father, with the bravery, the adventure, and the science and logic, had captivated him throughout his adolescence and
when the time had come, there had not been a doubt in his mind, or in his heart, where his destiny lay.
Elliot had always found his decision in life ironic. As far
back as either he or his twin sister could remember, he had been the cooler one, the more logical one, the less emotional
one. The more Vulcan one, more like their Father, less like their Dad. And in a way, he had lived up to that reputation. He
had become his father, the parts of his father that their Dad had always loved. Vulcan and yet an understanding of his human
nature, dedicated, bright, involved in helping humanity, and even, somehow, working for Starfleet.
And as Elliot finished adjusting his collar, and turned from
the mirror in his quarters to report to the Excelsior for duty as their new Assistant Chief Science Officer, he thought that
he could feel a part of his father’s spirit inside him. And he wondered if T’Livia felt the same peace with her
choice in life.
T’Livia finished brushing her hair. She was meticulous
when it came to appearance, “Not a hair out of place on a pretty head,” she remembered her dad’s mantra
to her for school each day.
As she sat on her bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror,
her ear tips made her seem more Vulcan than she had felt before in her life. She has always been the more human one, something
that for the longest time she had begrudged her brother, for he seemed to have more of their father in him.
She had never been able to understand the Starfleet part of
their father, the way he lived and worked and spent his days in a military organization that paid him less than half the respect
he truly deserved, a place where his talents had been wasted.
Her brother had seen something she had not. But as Vulcan philosophy
taught, equality in all things, and she saw something her brother managed to overlook.
After their father had died, it became fairly obvious that
something inside their dad had died as well. The once clear, bright blue eyes had dulled, turning a shade of gray. His hair
lost most of its chestnut color within a very short time, and he seemed tired more often than not.
In an effort to help their son-in-law and their grandchildren,
they had taken to frequent visitation. T’Livia had found herself quite close to her grandfather, perhaps because he
spoiled her incessantly.
Something that might not have appeared obvious, due perhaps
to the Vulcan nature of their grandfather, was the pride he had in his son. The eighteen year rift between them had long since
been resolved and since his death, Sarek would speak of him as a great pride to the skan, to Vulcan, and to Surakian philosophy.
However, with all the praise he gave, there was a lamentation
for Spock’s choice in life. It had been agreed, at some point after their father’s marriage to their Dad, that
after they both retired from Starfleet, Spock would take up a position at the Vulcan Science Academy, where he would fulfill
his last duty to his species; educating future generations of Vulcans.
It was impossible, her grandfather would tell her, as she sat
beside him in the Villa in Shi’Kahr, to be both Starfleet and Vulcan, although her father did try. In Starfleet, one’s
allegiance was always to the Federation. A Vulcan’s allegiance was to Surak.
The more her grandfather spoke, the more it made sense to T’Livia.
And despite the fact that as a child, she had been more human, she came to her choice. Vulcan, Surak. The life her father
had been denied.
T’Livia laid her brush down on the desk beside her and
rose, adjusting her robes and grabbing her notes. She was a Vulcan, like her father. And as she went off to her first graduate
class of the Vulcan Science
Academy, she felt part of her father’s spirit inside her, and knowing
she was continuing his life, she felt at peace.