"Here is your temporary quarters, Ambassador," George said. "the quarter master will come in to give you some Vulcan decent clothes in the next five minutes. You look like you didn't come with anything so consider this the captain's parting gifts."

"Tell your captain that he has sound logic," Spock said, then he walked forward into the room.

"Don't mind if I do," George said, pleased.

The quarters were familiar yet a little different to the Vulcan. The doors had closed behind him with a soft woosh. The colorful scenery stood out to the Vulcan. He warily looked over in the direction of the computer stationed on the desk. The room held no forms of comfort for the elder. No sign that someone once lived in there. Spock briefly closed his eyes with a heavy heart then reopened them to see the vastness of space. He approached the large windows watching it pass the ship. A familiar, nostalgic sight. Spock's shoulders shrank with a depressed sigh. Sure, for being a member of the diplomatic corps, he had a knack for bringing as few things as possible. Which is why he barely had anything with him except for the clothes on his back including the ones inside the duffle bag back in the future. The meditation mat that was left behind. All he had was a photograph and his holo-emitter.

Spock unzipped his coat then slid it off placing it onto the chair across from him.

He slipped out a large photograph from his coat sleeve pocket. It had a extra layer in the sleeves that made one assume that he hid it within his sleeve when in reality, the ambassador had hidden it inside a pocket. He left the object onto the counter alongside him. There was enough room in the well lit cabin to perform meditation to collect his thoughts. He had annihilated a entire species. And he was still alive to talk about it. He promised them that everything would be all right. He promised. His trembling hands were having difficulty remaining steady. His emotional control was falling to shreds. Meditation had helped him in the worse of his emotional half. Trying to save the planet and he willfully aided in its destruction. A sun that went supernova too soon. He sat down onto the rug beside the counter.

He looked over toward the photograph of his deceased crewmates.

Spock shook his head in shame. Spock closed his eyes cupping his hands together into his lap. He cleared his mind then slowly submerged himself into his typical meditation routine. His fingers stopped trembling. His demeanor changed from the most vulnerable, emotional state to a calm, relaxed aged Vulcan. The doors opened behind him. A young man looked over toward the Vulcan then placed the outfit onto the counter. His mind slowly put together a elaborate plan to handle the oncoming future. He could always take two short cuts. The guardian of forever or slingshotting around the sun. Kaiidth. Perhaps he had been in the ancient hall of thoughts before applying for it while making his will. A stable time loop. Perhaps he applied under a different name to make it not as confusing with his younger self. His younger self might be different now that he has arrived.

Only Surak would know if he had done any damage with his bondmates future. The Kirk family would remain alive and well. Spock listened to the man's heavy footsteps walking out of the cabin. The Vulcan seemed to be visibly relaxed by his meditation. He used the counter as his support to help himself up. He slowly strolled in the direction of the outfits. They were unique for visiting Earth. He felt the warmthness of the freshly cleaned attire. A warmth that he once held in his youth. A warmth that he once cherished and loved. A warmth that he had accepted he would outlive. Just not in the chain of events that had happened between him and his T'hy'la. Spock reeled himself back gaining control over his emotional half. Spock rubbed his shoulder visualizing his husband. Holding him within his arms in bed. His curly graying hair face planted by the Vulcan. He can still feel the man's hair against his face. Hands wrapped around the younger man's stomach.

A painful reminder of what he had lost. Warmth to the Vulcan's fingertips reminded Spock of who he had lost. It was so long ago. He thumbed through the attire selecting what his next attire should be in the morning. The Vulcan hadn't been happy. Not since McCoy left the plane of the living. His dearest, cherished friend. Someone he enjoyed arguing within their mind-skype (as the dear doctor liked to call it) realm. Someone Kirk and Spock courted at the same time only for the offer to rejected because 1) Not ready, 2) Over his dead body, 3) He doesn't need another telepath invading his brain twenty-four-seven. But Spock knew they were all excuses. They were almost there when Jim vanished from Spock's life. Jim would say that they were there but they hadn't gotten the ceremony ironed out. Spock believed McCoy was scared or either stalling because he was suffering from 'Am-I-cramping-up-their-marriage?' angst. A familiar one seen typically in interspecies Andorian marriages.

The other members of the bridge crew, the remaining ones, stuck around for a few years before falling flat into the grim reapers arms in a domino effect after the fateful transporter incident that took Jim away in the late 2370′s. Spock glanced over toward the photograph. He can hear their insistence and reassurances regarding the matter. Spock took off the holo-emitter from around his neck then hit the side button. The holo-emitter, well worn and aged, began to play a old man singing. He missed his husband. There was a small throb in his heart and numb aching in his mind. A healed broken bond that could be repaired at any moments notice. Spock wiped away a tear that formed at the edges of his eyes. One day he would join his crewmates, his family. The holo-emitter deactivated and back it went around his neck. Spock saw a box across from him. He approached the box. It was a puzzle box.

It was decided.

He needed to put this puzzle together.

Spock always did like a good challenge.