Fic: Lullaby
Title: Lullaby (for the scream prompt)
Author: LiquidFyre
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Author’s Note: This is a standalone short story for the scream prompt. It takes place a few weeks after the destruction of Vulcan.
Warning: None
Disclaimer: Others own these characters. I make no profit from their story.
Summary: Spock takes solace in an unexpected way
Their screams drag him from slumber. The plaintive cries, uncontrolled expressions of emotion that were absent in life are now made loud by desperation. He sits upright, eyes wild and runs his hand over his face. This has become his routine. He is unable to escape. In meditation, his mind cleared of distractions, they call to him.
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and leans forward, his palms pressed against his knees.
From a drawer of the table next to the bed, he withdraws a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it, careful not to tear the paper along the well-worn creases. This piece of paper carries the essence of his mother. He reads, as he has done every night:
My son,
You just left for Starfleet Academy and already the house has grown quiet without you. Your father and I shall miss you and yes, I am speaking for your father. My two Vulcan men, fighting against instinct, trapped by logic and tradition.
You are my child and always shall be. I have loved you longer than anyone I have known.
In closing, I shall borrow lines from a 20th century songwriter. Her words are my wish for you. And yes, I am well aware that you are of an age where you can take care of yourself. Indulge me.
Lord Protect My Child*
For his age, he is wise
He's got his mother's eyes
There's gladness in his heart
He’s young and he is wild
My only prayer is, if I can't be there,
Lord, protect my child
As his youth now unfolds
He is centuries old
Just to see him at play makes me smile
No matter what happens to me
No matter what my destiny
Lord, protect my child
He's young and on fire
Full of hope and desire
In a world that's been raped, raped and defiled
If I fall along the way
And can't see another day
Lord, protect my child
There'll be a time I hear tell
When all will be well
But until men lose their chains
And righteousness reigns
Lord, protect my child
****
He runs, his feet pounding against the exercise machine. Mile 15. Mile 26. By mile 32 he is worn down but still fearful of the voices he is sure to hear when he falls asleep.
****
He leans against the wall, waiting for a response. At this hour he is unlikely to run into anyone else and in one corner of his mind, he does not care if he does.
The door slides open and he makes his way to the shower, peeling off his clothing and standing under the sonic shower, his arms outstretched, palms flat against the wall and his head hanging.
When he slides into bed, she turns to face him, concern shining in her eyes. He feels guilty for this intrusion but she reaches for him, pulling his head to her shoulder, sliding her hands through his silken hair.
He curls himself around her nude body, her soft curves sliding against his harder angles.
She begins to hum, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me, I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind, but now I see.”
****
It is now 0200 hours and the light cover has been thrown to the floor. She is on her stomach, her skin glistening with sweat, her throat parched and dry. He has finally fallen asleep. The screams drowned out by song.
She will fall asleep soon and then waken for duty, until the next night, when he will slide into her bed, to be held and sung to sleep.
*Taken from “Lord Protect My Child” by Susan Tedeschi
Author: LiquidFyre
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Author’s Note: This is a standalone short story for the scream prompt. It takes place a few weeks after the destruction of Vulcan.
Warning: None
Disclaimer: Others own these characters. I make no profit from their story.
Summary: Spock takes solace in an unexpected way
Their screams drag him from slumber. The plaintive cries, uncontrolled expressions of emotion that were absent in life are now made loud by desperation. He sits upright, eyes wild and runs his hand over his face. This has become his routine. He is unable to escape. In meditation, his mind cleared of distractions, they call to him.
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and leans forward, his palms pressed against his knees.
From a drawer of the table next to the bed, he withdraws a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it, careful not to tear the paper along the well-worn creases. This piece of paper carries the essence of his mother. He reads, as he has done every night:
My son,
You just left for Starfleet Academy and already the house has grown quiet without you. Your father and I shall miss you and yes, I am speaking for your father. My two Vulcan men, fighting against instinct, trapped by logic and tradition.
You are my child and always shall be. I have loved you longer than anyone I have known.
In closing, I shall borrow lines from a 20th century songwriter. Her words are my wish for you. And yes, I am well aware that you are of an age where you can take care of yourself. Indulge me.
Lord Protect My Child*
For his age, he is wise
He's got his mother's eyes
There's gladness in his heart
He’s young and he is wild
My only prayer is, if I can't be there,
Lord, protect my child
As his youth now unfolds
He is centuries old
Just to see him at play makes me smile
No matter what happens to me
No matter what my destiny
Lord, protect my child
He's young and on fire
Full of hope and desire
In a world that's been raped, raped and defiled
If I fall along the way
And can't see another day
Lord, protect my child
There'll be a time I hear tell
When all will be well
But until men lose their chains
And righteousness reigns
Lord, protect my child
****
He runs, his feet pounding against the exercise machine. Mile 15. Mile 26. By mile 32 he is worn down but still fearful of the voices he is sure to hear when he falls asleep.
****
He leans against the wall, waiting for a response. At this hour he is unlikely to run into anyone else and in one corner of his mind, he does not care if he does.
The door slides open and he makes his way to the shower, peeling off his clothing and standing under the sonic shower, his arms outstretched, palms flat against the wall and his head hanging.
When he slides into bed, she turns to face him, concern shining in her eyes. He feels guilty for this intrusion but she reaches for him, pulling his head to her shoulder, sliding her hands through his silken hair.
He curls himself around her nude body, her soft curves sliding against his harder angles.
She begins to hum, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me, I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind, but now I see.”
****
It is now 0200 hours and the light cover has been thrown to the floor. She is on her stomach, her skin glistening with sweat, her throat parched and dry. He has finally fallen asleep. The screams drowned out by song.
She will fall asleep soon and then waken for duty, until the next night, when he will slide into her bed, to be held and sung to sleep.
*Taken from “Lord Protect My Child” by Susan Tedeschi