Without End

By Asso

Rating: PG

Genres: angst drama romance


This story has been read by 444 people.
This story has been read 759 times.

Genre: Romance, as usual for me. Absolutely sweet! But, in my own way, also a little bit of drama and of angst. And of melancholy.

Rating: All people can read this fic. But, you have to remember: it isn’t chirpy.

Summary: A look at the distant (DISTANT, DISTANT!) future.

Spoilers: Nothing specific. Some allusions.

Disclaimer: Sure! Enterprise is owned by Paramount, not me. No infringement intended, no profit made. Otherwise, something else rather than “The Abomination” would have followed after the intertwined hands of Trip and T’Pol!

Author's note: Again, a very great thank you to Linda, who kindly edited my work. Swiftly, carefully, gently and cleverly.

The words in italic between (*___*) represent the thoughts (That's a novelty for me, isn't it?).

And the words between º“___”º represent the words that our little girl (Which little girl? Well! Please, read this fic! ) has uttered itself or has heard from… (From which? Please, read this Fic! )

Advice: You can read this story without knowing my previous fics, but I think their knowledge could be of some help.


Without End

Without End

The reddish dawn of Vulcan is coming.

Soon the dark sky will be lightened little by little by the red colour of the sun.

(*The most apt colour…*)

…For these days… and these nights… of waiting and of pain.

(*Vulcan knows always how to meet the heart of its sons. *)

I’m walking slowly along the cold corridor.


Like these nights… and these days… which are trudging, ruefully and painfully…


Like they never are on Vulcan…

Like the sun was aware…

(*Yes. Vulcan knows always how to meet the heart of its sons. *)

How long will it take yet?

I feel a sore twist of guilt inside me, because of my wordless question.

I silently rebuke myself.

It’s only logical to wonder how long it will take yet, in order to be ready to do everything well, and…

(*…in order to no longer see him suffering, finally! *)

I sigh.

(*Neither me and my brothers and our friends! *)

I sigh again.


(*neither my mother! *)

In my mind are resounding softly the teasing words of my father.

How many times he told me those words!

º “Eh, little girl…” º

Little girl.

Thus, he was wont to call me.

º “Eh, little girl…” º

Little girl!

And I was peeved, in hearing him address me in this way, so indecorous for a Vulcan.

And he was chuckling, in perceiving my embarrassment, because of my inability to control my feelings.

And I was annoyed even more, sensing his childlike delight in making me thus… and because of my unvulcan-like pleasure in hearing his warming chuckle.

º “Eh, little girl…” º

Nevermore I’ll hear him call me thus.

I feel a pang in my heart.

He was right.

º“Eh, little girl… don’t try to disown yourself. You’re our daughter. Of your mother and mine. You have a double heritage. And, believe me, that’s your richness! ”º

Yes. He was right.

I can still hear his soft giggle while he was withdrawing, leaving me alone with my mother.

I can still see her amused expression.

I can still hear her words, a hint of a smile on her face, fully aware of what was going through my mind.

º“Eh, little girl… - her voice was tenderly mocking. A mirror of her mate – No way. I tried to withstand your father’s laugh, many times. A fruitless battle.“º

Yes. He was right.

And now he’s going.

I will hear his teasing, affectionate voice… nevermore!

And my mother…

What will she do?

What will she do… without her mate?

Without the solid and trustworthy companion of her life?

I don’t know what will happen.

I remember my oldest brother, when, during his apprenticeship at Denobulan Medical School, he told his twin sister Phlox’s confidential revelations, unaware I was listening. ø

º “It sounds there’s an unbreakable link between our parents, judging from what Phlox related to me. It cannot be severed. The penalty may even be madness… or death!” º ø ø

How long will it take yet?

And our mother?

How will she bear it?

Fighting, arguing, having run with each other… loving each other…

That was their life.

And now…

It’s the end!

Both of them knew the lifespan of my father was shorter than that of my mother.

They knew the moment would arrive.

Sooner or later.

His life has been very long.

Unbelievably long, for a human.

But the moment did arrive.

The cold encircles me.

(*Our father is going! *)

And our mother doesn't want to leave him alone.

Not even an instant.

So, I’m here.

My father’s words were right.

I’m the youngest from among their sons.

And the most … emotional.

I want to be the one who is the nearest to them.

(*Who can help my mother when… *)

º “Mother… it’s illogical to stay here, without eating… without resting… waiting for… waiting for…” º

The look of my mother had withered me.

º “I have been his bond mate and his spouse during all these years… I don’t want to be away when… ” º

Her voice was broken!

I’m walking along the corridor.

The drab light of the dawn is moving forward through the rooms.

Minister T’Pau is asking continually how things are going.

Every day a little crowd of knowing Vulcans is standing discretely in front of our house.

Waiting silently in respect.

In on our sorrow.

Many messages from Earth and from Andoria and from a lot of alien worlds, are coming from people aware of the truth, are clamouring to have news.


It’s NOT a simple man who is dying, now!

It’s my father!

It’s Charles Trip Tucker the Third!

The glory of Earth!

The pride of Vulcan!

A few people know who he really is, and that he was… alive.

Until now.

A few people will know who he really was.

But he is Trip!

Trip of Vulcan!


Engineer Tucker!

The destroyer of the spheres!

The preventer of the war between Vulcan and Andoria!

The secret and clever counsellor during the Romulan war!

The sagacious conductor of the Warp Six Project!

The grey eminence of Minister T’Pau!

The indefatigable and hidden linkman of the team play among Vulcan and Earth, and Andoria, and Denobula, and Klingon, and...

The bridge among the worlds!

The bridge towards the future!

The defiant Tucker!

The unique Tucker!


The glory of Earth! The pride of Vulcan! My father!



The love of my mother!

The man who for her gave up everything he had.

His world, his race, his friends.

Sliding silently in the dark.

How much colder it is this corridor, at the end of this doleful night. Yes, my father was right. I’m too emotional, for a true Vulcan. But he told me I’m shouldn’t be sad, because of that. (*Sad! I! The daughter of a human male and of a Vulcan female! *)

He told me that there are neither true Vulcans, nor true Humans.

There are only women and men, who are searching for a little bit of happiness, each of them in their own way.

º “And I have found mine!” º

I feel my soul warm even now, remembering his beaming smile, while uttering these words looking radiantly sidelong at my mother, who was sitting quietly at her desk, in the corner of the room.

And I remember perfectly the way she raised her eyebrow, her keen Vulcan hearing having caught his words.

Her usual way to berate my father.

Her usual way to hide her abashment for the unvulcan-like enjoyment that her Human husband was capable of arousing inside her.

I know my mother very well.

I know her almost like my father does.


º “You’re the picture of your mother!” º

The biggest compliment my father could have given me!

For many reasons!

º “You’re the picture of your mother!” º

My mother!

How will I be able to help her?



My father was right.

I’m emotional, a… a little.

I’m the outcome of a double heritage.

And I’m proud of it!

Otherwise, why did I claim the right of being the interconnection between our parents and the rest of the world?

Our mother doesn’t want to display to anyone else the…condition of our father, during this time.

She wants everybody who knows him and knows who he is, to remember her mate the way they know him.

Not as... as he is now!

She wants herself to be the only one who shares with him these grievous moments.

And she doesn’t want to leave him alone, not even a tiny bit.

That’s illogical…

And perfectly… logically… understandable!

She… she narrated to me her heartbreaking pain, that time… when that deadly virus was killing my father. ø ø ø

She told me her deep regret for having been so distant… and cold…

So… stupidly Vulcan, like she expressed herself.

So, she doesn’t want to leave her mate alone.

She wants to stay with him until …


(*How chilly it is this corridor, in this frosty dawn! *)

But she needs someone who will take care of any unforeseen necessity.

That someone… is me.

I have been able to feel my mother’s enjoyment in hearing me offer that.

And no one of my brothers and my sisters have denied this honour to me.

They know I’m the… little girl… of our father.

That my voice is, in the words of my father… º “…the voice of my sister, my Lizzy! ” º

That I am, in the words of my father… º“…the picture of your mother!” º

That I am for our father the constant reminder of two women so precious to him! The loved sister he lost a long time ago, and the woman who gave him again life and love, the woman who is all for him.

His wife!

My Mother!

T’Pol of Vulcan!

Our mother!

My brothers and my sisters know perfectly that - consequently, inevitably - I’m…the special…little girl… of our father.

That I’m…

I… I… was… the special… little girl … of our father! /i>

How… how much it’s chilly this corridor, in this incipient, noiseless, morning!

I’m in front of the door.

Beyond it there’s my father… who is dying.

And my mother… with him.

I try to lift my hand to knock.

My hand is heavy, this morning.

I don’t manage to raise it.

(*Enough, now! *)

I swallow.

Then, I slowly lift my hand and I knock lightly at the door.

Not a noise in response.

Not a move.

I frown.

Then I knock yet again, a little more strongly.



I… swallow, again.

Then, I knock once more.


Silence is the only response.

I feel a constraint in my stomach.

I muster my courage, and I push the door delicately.

It opens silently, revealing the room.

At the bottom, softly illuminated by the first light of dawn, there’s the bed where my father… was long consumed in his agony.

Too long since.

My mother is sitting on his left side.

She… she wears that robe that I know she was using during her service on Enterprise, and that she has kept intact, holding it very... very dear.

Eyes closed, she’s keeping her head resting on the chest of my father, the blanket pulled down, baring his torso, her left arm lying abandoned around his waistline, her right hand placed on his chest, next to her head.

I feel the shame of discovering them in such a private posture.

But, at the same time, I feel glad.

I sigh with relief.

Finally my mother has gotten some sleep.

Finally she can enjoy a tiny bit of rest.

I take some steps forward, my look fixed on the scene.


I realize that there’s something wrong.

The chest of my father doesn’t move with effort, searching air like it was doing during these last awful days.

It’s immobile.

As the head of my mother.

Again I feel that pang in my heart.

I almost run to the bed.

I stare at the face of my father.

It’s quiet.

His usual aspect of controlled force has come back.

His eyes are closed, peacefully.

His right arm is resting motionless at his side.

His left arm is resting motionless upon the shoulders of my mother.

And he… doesn’t breathe!

I take a long, deep suspiration, raising my head and clenching my eyes.

Then I open them again, looking down at the face of my father.

(*It’s done! *)

He no longer is suffering, now.

I watch his features, anew puissant.


I observe… glad… once more… the handsome, strong potency of my father…

In his death!

One more time, I shut my eyes.

(*My mother was with him, when it happened! Sleeping in his arms!*)

Abruptly I open wide my eyes!

(*Sleeping! *)

I throw myself bent, over the body of my mother!

She’s totally stock-still!

I bring my hand to caress delicately her cheek.

She doesn’t react!

I shake lightly her shoulder.

She doesn’t move!

I put my face near hers, to… to hear her breath!

She doesn’t breathe!

I straighten quickly, closing my eyes tightly, my face turned aloft.

Then, I lift laboriously my eyelids, and, without glancing down towards the silent, motionless forms of my parents, I turn around toward the window.

I look out, through the glass of the window.

The light of the day proceeds.

And it is promising to be glaring.

I feel a lonely tear come down my cheek.

I wipe it away with my left index finger.

(*Yes! My father was right! I’m… slightly emotional! *)

I breathe deeply, in the light which is slowly lightening the room.

(*My mother won’t be alone! *)

I remember again the words of my brother.

º “… an unbreakable link between our parents… It cannot be severed. Penalty… madness… or death!” º ø ø

(*Death! *)

They have gone together.

They have shared their latest plunge.

Once again my father was right.

º “Nothing will be able to separate us! Not even death! You know it very well!” º ø ø

Then, suddenly, a thought strikes my mind.

I'm perfectly aware of what my father meant.

Of what he wanted to tell to my mother.

º “I’ll wait for you on the other side! ” º


Beyond life…

He had no doubt.

He was absolutely sure that he and his woman would be together again...

On the other side!

I can’t help but think how beautiful that would be!

I… I can imagine… I can see… my mother and my father walking together, hand in hand… happy… forever… in the light!

NO! That’s absurd!

Vulcan logic cannot admit the unearthly.

There’s no room for such a thing in logic’s patterns.

(*That’s absurd! *)


(*That’s absurd! *)


There's something that is trying to surface in my mind.

Something that…

And all of a sudden… I realize what it is!

It’s something I have seen.

And I didn't watch!

I turn slowly.

I look intensely at my parents.

I observe the way they are tenderly holding each other, like they are sleeping, and… dreaming their endless love dream.

(*That’s… absurd! *)

I stare… pensively… at the lovely visage of my mother, now lightened by the rays of sunshine, which shines upon the quiet, glad, blissful… smile… beaming on her serene face.

(Without) End.

ø This is a reference to my stories “Ulysses” and “Vulcan Mothers and Mother’s Day”

ø ø This is a reference to my story “Destiny”.

ø ø ø This a reference to “Observer Effect”


A beautiful story that brought tears to my eyes. And yes,I can see them together, beyond death...
Ah, Man! My screen is all blury. Great story, real emotional.
Ah, it's up! My home computer is down with a nasty virus, so after the long weekend, I am at last online at work. Very moving story, and I got to see it first, LOL. Let's all encourage Asso to write more stories!
bittersweet Asso! beautiful!
Thanks for the warm comments. Well! As I have said to one of my friends, I wasn't able to bear the idea that T'Pol would outlive Trip a very long time, sombrely remembering her previous happy life. And then: what sort of "Romantic Italian Heart" would I be, if I wasn't thinking for our loved couple an end that was "without" end?:p
Bittersweet and heartfelt.
This is a beautiful tale of deep love and devotion, Asso. It's so very sad, but yet laced with hope. Thank you for writing it.
Asso, at the last scene you really pulled me in. It was like I was there. You desrcibed the scene, it was like a picture. And that says more then a 1.000 words. Well done.
Powerful packs a real emotional wallop.Great job. Asso

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