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It has been a long time since Vulcan race perished. Spock wasn't sure of the exact numbers, as he didn't know which hour was the final one for his people.
All he knew was that the life in space is lonely, especially when you are the last of your kind. It made him wonder how much things would differ, if there was some other Vulcan with him. After days of playing with the idea, he decided that the answer was "not much". He was never especially liked on his home planet and found that there was nothing he really cared to talk about with his peers anyway.
Loneliness was something he should be used to. But as Spock watched the intense black fabric of space wrapping around his little ship, he was sure he never felt anything so sharply and profoundly as he did the solitude of his current situation. He would exchange anything, even his own life, to have someone to talk to for at least a few minutes.
That made him think again - what would other Vulcans do in his position? With only a little ship and no way of ever saving their race.. they would probably succumb to inevitable death. But Spock couldn't do that. He knew he had no chance, but still, something urged him forward. Hope, maybe.

At first, Spock was skeptical. He passed many planets that were able to support intelligent life, but none of them accommodated one yet. So when he studied this one - already prepared to resume his useless journey - his breath cought in his throat and he believed his heart skipped a few beats as well before hammering in his side faster than it ever did before. There was a life on the planet beneath him. Lot of it.
His sensors were weak, but he understood there was a wide variety of living beings down there. What fascinated him most were the humanoids. He didn't know exactly what they looked like, but according to the readings, they should be almost as intelligent as himself.
Spock never felt like this. Of course, he wasn't supposed to feel anything, but after seeing everything you knew vanish, your view on some things can change. He felt ashamed that the destruction brought such a peace to him, the knowledge that he doesn't have to keep himself in check all the time around anyone almost dizzying.
Right at that moment, staring into the screen, he felt happy, shocked, incredulous, frustrated, afraid, hopeful and most of all - relieved, while being on edge. It made no sense to him, but it wasn't like he was really trying to understand. He just let the feelings wash over him, bathing and choking in that fountain, until his body and mind calmed down a little again.

And that's how his obsession with Humans started.
Over the next weeks, Spock collected all the data he could. He didn't have anything to translate the words, plus he understood that the humanoids used many different languages, depending on the part of the planet they lived in. So instead, he focused on the visual side of things and learned a few words in different languages along the way.
The planet - Earth, as he had found out - was really diverse. It left him confused, but seeded in another feeling too - the feeling that everything is possible. It was so overwhelming Spock spent much time of his days simply trying not to explode, illogical as that thought was.
What started as scientific curiosity, soon became personal.
The greatest source for him was "TV". Spock could sit and stare into his screen for hours without moving. As he explored the world underneath him through the eyes of its inhabitants, he knew that he needed more.
Spock tried to replicate some of the Humans cuisine. He wasn't sure about what was the food supposed to taste like, so he experimented a little and after few distasteful experiences, he could finally say he got a hold of it.

Not before long, Spock was contently sitting in his chair, legs stretched on the control panel in front of him, eating vegetarian hamburger and listening to music group that was named "Cage the Elephant". He could almost say that he has never been this happy in his life - and maybe for some time it even was the truth - but then the longing to join the actual people in their lives got stronger and became the only thing Spock could think of.

He started just with his mind - imagining himself amongst the Humans, sharing his food, thoughts and life with them. He could travel from state to state, experiencing new things that not even the whole galaxy could have ever given him.
Later, he started transferring his thoughts outside of his head. He made a little fictional place in his computer, decorated it with all kinds of flora, especially liking the spreading trees. Then he added some houses, and soon afterwards people. As a final touch, he added himself. It was a simple simulation that he could only watch on his little monitor, but he was glad he made it. Once Spock couldn't think of anything else he would wish to add into the program, he just let it play, living its own life, while he watched and wandered further into his imagination.
The creation of this simulation didn't stop Spock from watching TV. There was always something new to see and learn - even if the repeating of something called "Very Fragile Ties" made him a little frustrated. He didn't understand what the characters of the show were saying most of the time, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be any better even if he understood completely. But soon he knew it was worth the occasional frustration. Actually, he knew that exactly the second "it" started.
Spock sumrised the show was of a political sort. Everyone seemed to be very serious, sitting upright in their black suits that looked almost like holes in space on the (not overly) colorful background made of flags. They reminded him of a Vulcan council.
But then it hit his eyes. Or to be more accurate - not it, but rather he.
Among the boring humans who somehow seemed to blur into greyness, sit the most beautiful creature Spock has ever seen. Every particle of that being seemed to be placed into carefully chosen position, resulting in utmost perfection of every feature. Intelligence and charisma radiated from him and warmed Spock throught the screen.
And than the Human smiled and Spock knew that he had to land down on Earth.

It was only after the program has ended that Spock realised with some disappointment that he was concentrating on the picture before him so much he didn't catch the name of the golden haired man. But it was too late then - maybe he could ask around about him once he was planetside.
With smile and anticipation pumping through his veins, Spock brought his ship down.

The air smelled even better than Spock imagined. He chose a village for his first visit, not wanting to be overwhelmed by human minds before he got used to it. This choice also had the bonus of unbelievably complex scenery, almost eerily green and so alive it stole Spock's breath away. He stood down from his ship, surprised to feel the land so soft and pliant under his feet. He was absorbing all the miracles around him for what could be hours, when he noticed sillutes approaching him. Smile spread on Spock's face like spilled milk and he made a few steps towards the Humans. From what he grasped, he knew shaking hands was in order and so he lifted his right arm and waited.
The next few minutes were the most confusing of Spock's recent years. He didn't know what went wrong, but the Humans didn't shake his hand, instead they fired into his ship from some kind of metallic weapon and threw objects at him, along with deafening screams. Spock stood there, unsure of how to proceed, trying to yell the few words he knew over the noise of the furious crowd. Then, he felt a strong spike of pain in his left leg and looked down to see it bleeding, his green blood falling to the grass and seeping into the earth. It only seemed to enrage the Humans further and Spock saw no other option but to retreat into his ship quickly and fly away, back to the orbit.

Spock did his best to heal the injured leg and prepared himself for night. But the awaited sleep never came, as he repeated the scenes from that day in his head. The screaming woman, looking terrified almost to death. The crying child, trying to run away but held by his father. The man with gun, who shot him with face twisted by combination of disgust and gratification.
They wanted him to die. That thought froze Spock to his core - after everything he went through, the ones he searched for all the time wanted him to go back and die as the rest of his kind did. After all, he was supposed to face the same fate, only prolonged by his naivism. What ideal was he chasing anyway? And was it that wrong to simply want to belong somewhere? Maybe..maybe his father was right afterall.
Spock didn't sleep that night.

Upcoming days were colored by depression. The simulation Spock once made happily thrieved on his screen, but he couldn't bring himself to neither look at it or turn it off.
The only light came when he finally saw the golden haired man on TV. This time he was talking outside in public and Spock even cought his name - James T Kirk. He hung to James' every word as if for life and to his surprise, Spock understood what James was talking about, even thought his own English dictionary was quite lacking.
Kirk was a leader of some sort. He talked so gracefully and deeply that it seemed to penetrate Spock and start a new fire in him.
Spock had to get to know this man, his James, no matter what.

He decided it would be best to use some demonstration of his good intentions this time. He made a holo for that purpose - it was somewhat simple, just him shaking hands with a Human, both sides smiling. Beneath it, he put a word FRIENDS. It wasn't the best thing that ever came from his computer, but it had to do. Feeling tired, he sat in front of his simulation and watched the virtual people running along the trees. He smiled to himself and with few clicks, James was there with him, looking at virtual Spock with those bright eyes and reaching to hold his hand.
Spock gasped at the vision of intervining fingers. With few more clicks, he changed the scenery. It felt awkward and he looked around his ship, even though he knew he was alone there.
Virtual Spock and virtual Jim stood facing each other in a nicely decorated room that looked bigger than it actually was because of it's lack of furniture. The only occupant of the room other than them was the spacious bad in the middle.
Kirk laid his hand on Spock's side and smiled wrily, inclining his head in an invitation.
Spock turned the scenery off, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. This was pathetic. Now wasn't time for that.
Now, it was time for another landing.

They were prepared for him. And not in the way Spock hoped for. He chose a city for his second visit, wanting as many people to see his message as possible.
Bigger city obviously meant bigger guns. As soon as Spock was in their range, they fired at him and the ship's hull took a full blow. Spock was forced to an emergency landing, trying to get the most out of his now malfunctioning ship. He had to show them the message now, before they destroyed his ship completely.

Everyone watched as barely visible rays came from the ship and landed on the opposite buildings in a giant picture.
Silence swallowed them all for a while.
On the buildings, deformated human stood above one single word.
The screaming started. It was piercing and conveyed everything Spock had to know.
It wasn't cheering. It was terror.
Spock's ship wasn't capable of reaching the orbit anymore. He let out one choked sob before taking off, trying to get as far as the ship would let him.

It was quiet in the woods. The sound of nothingness perfectly accompanied Spock's misery. How could everything go so wrong? All he wanted was to not be alone and that made him dead. Yes, Spock thought, dead. They will find me and kill me like an animal. A beast. Monster. Even James would later look at his lifeless body in disgust and spit into his unmoving face. Thinking of Jim, Spock was filled by such despair and rage, he had to scream it out, and didn't stop until he deleted James T Kirk from his simulation for good.
Crying sounds filled the ship then.

James Kirk was furious.
"How can you just shoot at anything? Who do you think you are?! Did you get my permission?"
"But sir, the sign-"
"I don't care what the sign said! Answer much question - did you get my permission to shoot?"
"Did you?!"
"No, sir."

They took him to the ship. They didn't want to, but he gave them no choice.
It was heavily damaged, but still seemed to work on some level. He noticed a green splatter on the hull, but pointedly tried not to look at it. Instead, he went inside, ignoring the protests of his subordinates. It was small, but obviously more powerful than anything he has ever seen. He stood in the middle, looking around. It was clear only one person could have lived there. He started moving around, searching through the things. He didn't understand any of them. There were writing in foreign language on the wall and on some documents as well. The screen seemed to be playing some sort of video. James looked closely and noticed the alien, talking and eating grilled strawberries with some random Humans. The peacuful scenery left painful pang in Kirk's heart, alongside confusion. He looked to the right, where uneaten hamburger laid on the panel. James wanted to get more out of that computer, but it had only few buttons without letters and no mouse, so he moved forward. He saw a paper sketch then. It was precise, even thought the person drawing it probably wasn't artist. The realisation of the content punched kirk hard. The alien was shaking hands with a man and beneath it the word FRIENDS stood innocently but proudly. James saw his hand shaking and vision blurring. He took the sketch and put it into his pocket. He wanted to leave that place as soon as possible and made his way to the opening, when he heard faint sound. He stopped in his tracks and came back, letting the sound lead him to a small device. Now that he was close, he recognised the sound. The music. Tears he was trying to hold back fell down his cheeks freely now and he chuckled. "I believe we would make a great friends in another world."
And the Aberdeen played on.

Nobody knew, but right before he died, Spock reached with his bloodied hand to the sky with a smile on his lips and painted a better future in the stars. One for him, James and worlds where everything was possible.








Chapter End Notes:

So, I wrote this little piece of fiction tonight, because I had a massive headache and couldn't fall asleep. It was inspired (alongside said headache) by this:  http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=bZBmcSBoRAE

If you liked the story at least a bit, I really recommend watching the video, or at least listening to the song Aberdeen (which is in the video, so just..click it.. do it. Do it now. You want to.)

Also, "funny" fact - I wrote it on my mobile and I'm never doing such a stupid thing again. Really, writing a ff at midnight with headache on your mobile is not. A. Good. Idea. Trust me.

I was asked to do a better ending as well, but because I have no time at the moment, it's just a little modification of this one, but hopefully it will make someone happy.

And last thing before I go - I'm thinking about writing a longer (and hopefuly much better, with writing on computer and all that fancy stuff) story, but don't want to do it without Beta. If you know about someone who wouldn't mind beta reading possibly very smuty and disturbing piece of KS, please let me know.


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