Weep, Little Lionman

by 1lostone

Sometimes, break-ups are friendly. Sometimes, they are not. This is one of those times.

1. Weep, Little Lionman ch1

Notes: Posting to from Ao3. Orig written in august of 2012. Posted here as two long chapters.

Warnings: Angst... a LOT of angst... Po(r)n Far, breakup fic

For dark_wulf: Thank you as always to jademac2442 for beta-ing for me. I'm really nervous about this particular fic because darke_wulf won a bid on me for the fandom_helps planned parenthood auction. The prompt is amazing and I hope that I do it justice, especially since I've never written some of its elements before. Thanks to my cheerleaders: jen and ninjaboots for the occasional kick in the ass. Fair warning- jen told me that she "wanted to slap Spock until her hand turned green." I mean it about the angst. :) Title from Mummford and Sons song that's been stuck in my head for about forever, but it's not a songfic.

Chapter 1

George- I'm not sure about this. I know when we signed up for the 'Fleet, we thought that it would keep us together for always. I don't mean to complain, but my new roommate is... well, Tiberius would call her a long-tail cat lost in a room full of rocking chairs. She does something with linguistics I think. She's kind of a complete stick in the mud. I mean, you and I both study and stuff, but she's practically made it her religion! I don't know if she's a complete bitch or if she's just super shy. I can hear you now; telling me not to make judgments. Blahblah. Save your breath. I'm going to invite her to go to the commons. I mean, she's been here for two weeks and we hardly know each other. All I really know is that her name is Grayson. Amanda Grayson…
Love, love love as always you have my heart forever.
Win

You would think that with all the shit I'd seen serving as one of the most incredible Captains in Starfleet history, this sort of stuff wouldn't faze me.

Not true. I was so nervous that I felt like I was about to piss myself. I watched them file in, moving with the smallest amount of movement possible, almost appearing to glide across the floor with that inherent gracefulness that all Vulcans possessed. It made my mouth go dry with nerves. Spock was staring rigidly ahead. He'd gone completely well… Vulcan, for lack of a better word. He hardly seemed to breathe. A statue of purely rigid, Vulcan propriety.

When Spock had said that there was a ritual involved in meeting his dad before we became officially betrothed, I kind of thought we'd be meeting for some Plomeek and a nice Chianti over the dining table or something. Not anything like this. Eight Vulcans, all of whom I vaguely recognized from various diplomatic functions, stood on a raised dias, decked out in full High-Council regalia. Between the eyebrows and the beaky looking noses, I felt sort of like a tender little mouse surrounded by a field of very hungry hawks.

My communicator buzzed. I ignored it with a small wince. I'd meant to turn it off, but had forgotten with all the craziness. The small sound caused Spock to actually look over at me, eyebrow twitching with displeasure at the interruption. I licked my dry lips and tried for a smile, but I don't think I made it. Fuck, this was nerve-racking. Spock didn't acknowledge me, looking back towards the Council and waiting patiently for them to speak.

Since Vulcan's destruction almost five years ago, the remaining survivors had found a planet almost at the far end of the quadrant. They had gone from one of the founding members of the Federation to practically becoming complete isolationists in only a few short years, withdrawing from the Federation almost completely. Spock was currently the only Vulcan still directly involved with Starfleet. I know his family had been putting a lot of pressure on him to quit and join the colony. That was part of the reason I was only now getting around to meeting Sarek in a non-official Starfleet capacity. Hell, the only other time I'd seen the guy, he'd had to call off his son from strangling me to death. Still, having him look down on me like I was something nasty on his shoe was a little much. Well not that a Vulcan would-

"James Kirk."

I jolted, then looked up. Not one of the faces gave me any hint of what they were about to decide, but I just couldn't shake the faint feeling of … wrongness. I felt like I did when a mission was about to go from 'interesting' to 'so fucked up Bones wasn't going to let me out of Sickbay for a week.' That sort of intuition is what kept me sharp; kept me as Captain of the Federation's Flagship.

I nodded, bowing slightly in acknowledgement. Sarek took a slight step forward, and I felt the feeling solidify into straight-up tension.

"I have advised my son to break from this most illogical joining between the two of you. His refusal of his duty to his people is a detriment to our success as a colony. Were he to break his mindlink with his betrothed and join with you in the way of our people, the bloodline of the House of Surak would further deteriorate-"

Break his mindlink with his betr-what?! I blinked, then the rest of Sarek's words hit me.

"Deteriorate? Explain." What the fuck was it with Vulcans and calling out people's shit in front of a captive audience?

"Your… emotionalism. Your blatant disregard for our traditions and values. My son informs me that your personal life is rife with congress of a sexual nature with several different partners. While you have an exemplary service record, you do so with a chronic disregard for protocol and indeed, the very chain of command that your military organization holds as paramount."

I blinked, Sarek's words like a punch to the fucking balls.

"May I respond?"

"This is not necessary, James Kirk. Sarek has informed his son of his wishes, and Spock has agreed to our advisement. Your appeal, such as it was with your...contribution, will be severed. For what it is worth, you have our… regrets in this matter. We are not unaware of your contributions to our race; however the needs of the many must outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one." I knew from holos that it was T'Pau that was speaking to me, but I think I was too shocked to really completely take in the enormity of what she'd said. Before I could gather myself, seven of the eight had filed out, leaving only Spock, myself and Spock's father in the room.

I turned to my first officer, part of me still reeling from the shock of them saying no. I mean, I thought there'd be some issues. Some stuff we'd have to compromise on. Not… this flat-out refusal. When I tried to speak I couldn't make the words come out. I had to try again. Pursing my lips made the cracked skin sting.

"Sp- Spock?"

Spock turned, continuing to hold his body as rigidly as the Vulcan statue outside the breezeway. The off-ness of his posture screamed that something was very, very wrong. I reached out automatically, my fingers stretching out in the Vulcan version of a kiss, looking … hell. I don't know what I was looking for. Some kind of acknowledgement that Spock thought this whole thing was just as fucked up as I did, maybe. Proof that we'd laugh about this later over dinner.

Spock actually flinched, turning away from me and walking towards his father, who was still waiting by the door.

"Spock!" My voice was wrecked.

Spock stopped before the door slid open, speaking with his back to me.

"Captain. You once told me that you would never come between me and my heritage. Please know that this decision was not… made lightly."

I took a step after him, ignoring the way Sarek stepped behind his son as though he needed protection. "But—

"Goodbye, Captain. You will see that the Admiral approved my leave, effective immediately." He turned, flashing the ta'al. Spock's face was still completely and utterly blank. Not even his eyes gave me any hint that he was upset over what the Council had said. "Peace and long life."

"But—" My mind was still stuck on the impossibility of Spock leaving voluntarily. My communicator buzzed again. I was so on edge that I fumbled with it, dropping it onto the floor. I looked up once, hope an almost bright burst of flavor on my lips when I heard the soft footstep against the stone floor. It made the realization that it was Sarek, and not his son staring down at me even more bitter. My communicator buzzed again, and before I could twitch in its direction, Sarek had his hands on my head. A heartbeat later, I shivered, blinking owlishly as I watched Spock's father leave the chamber. I took a step and my boot clicked against something. My communicator. I scooped it up, feeling like I had missed something very important.

I stood there for several minutes, going over what had just happened in my head. The shock was starting to give way; a feeling of hurt so sharp that I felt like I'd taken a phaser blast to my chest taking its place. This… this wasn't some decision that had been forced onto Spock. This was a decision that Spock had made about... about us. Without telling me. Without even discussing it with me.

On auto-pilot, I hailed the Enterprise. While part of me wanted to run after Spock and demand what the fuck was going on, the rest of me damn well knew. I wanted peace and quiet to think, to process what had just happened. I didn't want to be on this planet anymore, or I'd be tempted to blow the protocol out of the water and go find Spock to demand some answers.

"Aye, Cap'n? Little early isn't it?"

"Yeah. I'm ready. One to beam up please."

"But what about Comm-"

"Scotty." He stopped in mid-word. It still made me flinch. "One to beam up. Energize."

"Aye, sir."

The same microsecond of falling into nothingness, and I appeared back on my ship. Scotty looked mildly curious for a minute. I'd gotten very good at keeping my face blank. I forced a smile and had taken two steps forward out of the transporter room doors when I heard the unmistakable click of heels. I felt my gut tremble, and for a second I was afraid of what Nyota would do.

Of course. While I'd been on the planet being completely blindsided, she'd probably been handling Spock's transfer. I jerked my head once, and she fell into step besides me, carefully not touching me. Out of habit, I slowed my stride so that she could keep up with me. In the later months of her pregnancy, Nyota tended to waddle if she was made to walk too fast, and as it was usually worth more than your life to mention that little fact, it was easier just to slow down a tad so that she could walk shoulder- to- shoulder. How she did it in the heels though was just beyond me.

We were silent on the lift. Silent as we passed hers and Bones' quarters, Spock's... I must have made some sound in the back of my throat, because Nyota brushed one finger against the back of my hand, and the simple gesture made my throat tighten. The communicator buzzed in my hand again, and again I ignored it. When my door hissed open to reveal Bones frozen in mid-pace, my lip trembled and I had to blink back tears.

Those came later when Bones wrapped his arms around me, Nyota behind me with her belly nestled into the curve of my spine.

They clung to me, not saying anything while I shook.

~*~*~*~*~
I don't think they realized that I could hear them. Bones didn't really have a quiet voice. He had 'Cranky.' 'Cantankerous,' and 'Downright Pissed off, Jim.' Even when he was being gentle, he did it loudly. Bones said it came from working with damnfool morons. Idly, I wiggled my big toe. The blanket had pulled up to my ankles, leaving my toes slightly cold. I was too numb to rearrange the blanket, and too drained to fix the environmental controls.

Nyota and Bones had put me to bed. Bones had given me something to calm me down, which normally I wouldn't have taken. I hated not being in control of my own emotions, but fuck. The gaping chasm of this... it wasn't just pain. I'd had my heart broken before. I was a little afraid of what was lurking on the other end of this careful numbness.

"- I don't care! Goddamnit, Nyota... " My own throat hurt when I heard Bones' voice break. "That fucking hobgoblin was already betrothed! So what was the last year with Jim, then, huh?"

Nyota's response was a murmur.

When I had told them what had gone on on the colony, both had looked at me like they were waiting for the punchline. I didn't have one.

"Leonard."

I couldn't quite see them from my bed. It was easy to picture their easy intimacy though.

It had taken Nyota the better part of three years to wear the stubborn ass down, but once Bones finally allowed himself to admit that he desperately wanted what she was offering, they'd had me marry them almost immediately. Bones wasn't one for public displays of affection, so when they allowed me to intrude- to see the way he would cradle her stomach and kiss it good morning, or how she would trail one finger over the wrinkle he got in the middle of his forehead when he'd been working too long on too little sleep, it made me feel less like a third wheel and more like I was privileged to be allowed to see part of their private life.

There was a small shuffle of sound, and a small thump. Bones would have insisted that his wife sit down. He'd be pacing of course, his hair getting more and more crazy as his fingers pulled it out of the part he'd worn for most of his life with every frustrated step.

"I know.. but. How are we gonna fix this?" I'm pretty sure that all three of us knew 'this' meant 'me.'

I rolled over, trying to regain the floaty feeling from before. Bones must have heard me, because I heard his footsteps a few seconds later. The bed dipped and I felt his hand on my forehead. The tightness in my throat spread to a burning in my eyes, and I bit my lip. All of the sudden, I missed my mom so fucking much that it hit me like a shot to the gut.

"You okay, kid?"

I snorted and Bones flicked me on the ear.

"Don't give me your sass now. You know we're gonna get you through this."

I nodded and Bones' hand slid to my shoulder, then off to the mattress to prop him up as he made himself comfortable. Nyota sat down on the other side, stripping off her boots and curling into me. I told myself I wasn't jealous when their fingers slotted together.

"Why didn't he just... tell me? Why bring me down there and. Jesus, it was fucking ... they were all looking down at me. I'm there all fucking giddy, thinking I'm about to have Spock in my mind again but..shit, Bones. His dad was in my face about the people I'd fucked around with before we got together! Isn't that some fucking irony? I did everything Spock wanted. Everything. We didn't touch, we didn't really kiss, we... Vulcans. I wanted it to mean more to him, so I tried to keep it with his traditions. And the bitch of it was that I didn't mind! I felt so fucking lucky to have him that..."

I trailed off. Nyota rubbed her sharp chin on my shoulder, and Bones made the frowny face that made me feel like he had a shotgun hidden somewhere and was about to go all 'Outraged Daddy' on someone. Sometimes I think he forgot that he was only a few years older than me. The numbness leaked away, leaving me biting the inside of my cheek so that I wouldn't fucking lie there and cry. My communicator buzzed again, and Bones leaned over me, stretching to the small nightstand and handing it to me. He knew I'd be glad for the interruption. The thing was, I knew who was trying to get in touch with me. I'd been avoiding her calls- well, because I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do. When she'd first pitched the idea, I was surprised at the initial spurt of intrigue I'd felt. Honestly, I'd said no because I couldn't imagine not being out here in the black with Spock by my side. Now though...

My lips tightened as I ruthlessly suppressed the gut-churning feeling of hurt brought by just thinking Spock's name. I ignored the call, knowing I could just check my comm messages later, but the feeling of wallowing in my own patheticness was starting to get to me.

Spock broke up with me. So what. I had captainy shit to do, and wasn't going to let personal shit get in my way.
Nyota must have sensed my feelings - it was fucking creepy that she knew me almost better than I knew myself sometimes- because she eased off, rolling on her back so that her gigantic tummy nudged my ass before she got situated. It was worth it just to zone out of my brain and the endless repetition of what...why... why... just...sleep.

**
Winona- You know I love you but really, I need you to respect my decision on this. You've been my dearest friend almost since our first cup of tea together over a year ago. Do you really think that I'm going to forget you? Sarek has never explicitly said that he wishes for me to move to his planet, yet I feel that it is one way that I can please him. We have lived on Earth for a year. It seems only fair for me to give Vulcan a whirl. That sound frivolous, but you know I'm being anything but. Winnie, Sarek explained that there are scientists who can help me with conceiving! I know that kids aren't in your future, but you know how much I want this. How much I want him. And how much I want a child. Please, Winnie. Be happy for me.

-Amanda

Chapter 2

Notes:

Chapter is unbeta'd.

Mandy,
I can't believe it! Two weeks!? Two weeks and you get to see my graduation! I've already made a list of all the places you can take me and George, since you're the wife of royalty and all. Yes, they're all expensive. I even found one that is a vegany, vegetabley Vulcany place. It's called Surak's Garden. (I laughed. Don't lie, so did you.) Yeah, I'm eating rabbit food for you. I don't know how the hell you're going to raise a baby without a little meat in you. Although, I guess you had a little meat in you to have the baby in the first place- ha ha. You better be smiling. I bet you don't hear all that many jokes surrounded by all those Vulcans! George says I'm classless and crass, and I just told him that it was all his fault. If he hadn't left me, then you would never have moved into my dorm...
-Win

They tried.

But they didn't know how to handle me after losing everything. Oh I tried. I tried to keep my shit together, but ... well. Let's just say that recent events made making some decisions that I had been putting off for several months much, much easier to put in perspective. Not even Chris could talk me into signing away another five years of my life to Starfleet.

Scotty had given me a gruff hug. Sulu had fingered his First Officer insignia, biting his lip. He didn't much like how he'd gotten the promotion. Nothing that I said made him believe that he was a damn fine XO. the new Captain had beamed onboard a few hours ago. If I couldn't be on the bridge- Number One was just about the only person that I could trust to keep my Silver Lady together and pointed in the right direction. Sulu had kept his goodbyes short, still uncomfortable. I made a mental note to comm him later when it didn't feel like I was pulling my heart out of my chest.

I couldn't do this anymore. Couldn't be here. They needed someone strong- and I... I wasn't...

Wasn't...

Just wasn't. Full stop.

Chekov was the last to see me off.

He'd grown up a lot in the past five years, but fucked if I didn't still see the same big eyes and ridiculously young looking grin that had endeared him to the entire ship, even though it was obvious that he had been crying. Pavel was taller now, and had grown into the cheekbones and shoulders. He had practically caused a ship-wide mutiny when he'd cut off his curls on his eighteenth birthday. Now as he stepped back and shook my hand I could see his lip tremble only a little. I had a weird flash of giving him his Lieutenant pin and him making kind of the same overwhelmed, kicked puppy face.

"You will keep in touch, yes? It is wery important." At the 'wery' my own jaw twitched, and the wave of what the fuck was I doing? was so strong that I had to bite the inside of my cheek for a second so that my voice wouldn't crack. "I… Sir. Your friends know why it is that you leave us. But you must not … I mean that…" Chekov broke off, looking distressed. The ensign manning the transporter coughed. We both looked over at him, me in gratitude and Chekov with something very close to frustration.

"Yeah. Don't worry. Bones'll be around. He won't let me do anything too stupid." Pavel nodded and clutched at my hand again.

"You are.. you are sure that this is what you wish? It does seem wery strange not to have you as my Captain, Captain."
My forced smile was more like a grimace.

"Me too, kid. Look." I held out my hand. "I'm supposed to have a meeting in a few hours. I need to get ready for it, okay? Get checked in, find out if my plants are still alive, you know."

Both Chekov and knew that I didn't have any plants. Still, Chekov squared his shoulders, nodding. He took a step back and I nodded to the ensign, ready to make my escape. I saluted, and watched as Chekov rolled his eyes. The familiar sight made my lips quirk in a ghost of a grin, then the familiar bright lights took me away.

I rematerialized at the familiar spaceport. Seeing all the hustle and bustle made me cringe for just a split second. After the Enterprise, the cacophony of people talking, the hum of luggage carts floating placidly behind their owners, the outerworldly sound of announcements being repeated in ten different Federation languages made me blink in stupification. I took a deep breath, then another.

My communicator beeped and I jolted. A passing attendant grabbed my shoulder, polite concern clear on his face.

"Sir?"

His touch made my skin crawl. I forced a smile, trying not to let on that it felt like something was crawling across my wrist where he'd reached out to steady me. It was weird. Since... everything, it was like I couldn't stand to be touched. It had only been four months. Even Bones had noticed before he and Nyota had left. The three of us had technically entered the 'Fleet at the same time, but my rank made me have to jump through several more hoops before I could get the hell out of Dodge. Plus the fact that they were both planning on teaching at the Academy instead of cutting all ties probably had an effect as well.

Bones had been concerned, but had kept it (mostly) behind his teeth. The only fight we'd had had stemmed from Bones threatening to 'tear the green-blooded fucker a new one' on one of my bad days; days where it was a struggle to get out of my bed. A struggle to give a fuck about the job that I loved. A job that I had no interest in anymore.

"Fine, sorry." I was doing it again. It had become increasingly more difficult for me to focus on simple things. The nausea made me blink, struggle for a second to remember why this guy was talking to me.

"It can be a little overwhelming." The attendant smiled a polite smile and I forced myself not to cringe back as I nodded, muttering something about needing to meet my shuttle.

I had made Bones promise that he wouldn't send Spock anything, not being brave enough to tell him that I had tried. And tried. And tried. All of them came back with a cool Vulcan voice informing me that 'my ongoing instance on forcing communication was the height of illogic.' Which, okay. That had Sarek's influence all over it. But even I had gotten the message eventually.

It was that more than anything that made me realize that it was time for me to get the hell out of Starfleet.

The shuttle was almost uncomfortably quiet after the unpleasantly busy spaceport. I made my way to a seat and collapsed, tilting my aching head against the headrest. My communicator chirped at me, and I had to chuff a laugh at Bones' name on the display. I had stopped thinking it uncanny a few years ago; now I just accepted that it was just part of Bones' scary motherfuckerness. I blamed the eyebrows. They had to have some sort of supernatural powers. Bones always seemed to know when I was hurting.

"Kid."

"Bo-"

"Look. I don't mean to pry, but you said two weeks. TWO WEEKS? You need to be down here yesterday. You haven't met little Jojo yet. She's..." Bones' voice trailed off and I fought the burst of jealousy that I felt at his expression.

"I know, man. I'll be around in a bit. I'm gonna meet my boss, then come on out and meet your sprog." I tried the big, fake grin.

Bones' eyes narrowed. Shit. I knew better than to try and fake anything around this man. "Look, kid. I'm not..." He huffed out a breath. I heard Nyota in the background, and Bones' eyes cut to the left, softening. "Jimmy. Kid. You're sure this is what you want to do?"

I rolled my eyes. "Please tell me you're not going to try to lecture me now, Bones. It's a done deal. My five years were up. Chris didn't like it, but there wasn't much that he could do to change it. You know... you know I tried to make it work." My voice cracked and it was my turn to look away. "I think that this will be a good change, Bones. Something just different enough that I can... I don't know. My only other choice was mouldering somewhere in a classroom."

Bones winced. Yeah, we agreed on that pretty well. Neithe r of us had much faith in my teaching abilities. Hell, Chris had only offered so that he could keep his eye on me. His relief when I declined had been pretty damn obvious.

"Look. Kiss the wife and spawn for me, man. I'm gonna catch a nap before I get there."

Bones opened his mouth to argue but I disconnected the comm link, turning it off and putting it in my pocket.

Truth was, the offer was too good to let go. A shipping company based near Chicago had been looking for someone to help them in the private sector. I hadn't met the guy I'd be working with yet, but the boss was a wickedly hot, completely ball-busting woman that who only introduced herself as Ms. Dehner. We hadn't actually met in person, but even via comm link she had this eerie way almost looking into my brain like she knew it better than I did. She had apparently heard through an old friend that I was looking for something new, and hadn't waited in wooing me for her company.

In fact, it had been her who had called me during the meeting on Vulcan. If nothing else, that tiny coincidence made me think that maybe there was a point to that whole clusterfuck.

And she was paying pretty well, too.

I would working with one other guy, sharing a small ship two-person ship. We were basically just security when she needed it- whether it was an escort for a dignitary from one planet to another, or for a shipment of minerals that needed to make it intact through the Neutral zone. As an extra incentive against robbing her blind, the two of us split a percentage of each successful shipment that made it back to Dehner.

I nodded off, surprised that I was able to sleep. I hadn't exactly been used to getting a full eight hours lately. Even more surprisingly, I woke with more energy than I had in weeks. I even ordered some food, and when I disembarked in Chicago, I was in a pretty decent mood.

The directions her secretary had given me were perfect, and almost before I knew it I was opening the door of a smooth, sleek looking office building. The logo, 'Dehner Shipping' was tastefully on the wall behind the receptionist's desk. Neither the receptionist nor the man talking to her noticed when I walked inside. The man's laugh was rich, full-bodied as it rolled out, and I found my lips twitching in a grin almost before I could help it. I shifted my duffel bag on my shoulder, and stared at the two of them, politely waiting my turn.

The man was bent slightly over the desk so that he could flirt with the pretty red-headed receptionist. He wore a beaten-up leather jacket that lifted slightly at his waist, showing the bulge of a phaser as he leaned against the desk. I felt my eyebrows raise. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but I suppose that had been somewhat of a job hazard for me. I noticed when people were armed. His phaser didn't look like it was 'Fleet issued, which made me smirk. The receptionist's giggle made me jerk my eyes up to them, and for the first time I noticed the ponytail down his back.

But it was the ears that caused me to completely freeze, my throat tightening so quickly that I couldn't breathe.
I must have made some sound, because he turned slightly, looking at me with one eyebrow ticked in a way that hit me like a punch to the gut. The receptionist finally clued in to the fact that they weren't alone in the lobby, and with a startled cough smiled at me. I hardly noticed.

The man wasn't a man at all, but obviously Vulcanoid. I wasn't sure if he was a Romulan or a Vulcan, or some mutt mix of the two, but actually took a step backwards when he pushed himself off up the desk, turning fully to face me, hand outstretched in welcome.

"Why, hi there! Kirk, isn't it? I remember you from the whole saving the universe thing." His voice was rich, and brutally familiar. I had spent enough time between my ex-betrothed, the xenolinguistics club on campus, and Nyota McCoy that I knew a Vulcan's speech patterns when I heard them, but the wide, welcoming grin on his face was confusing as fuck.

"Guess we'll be working together for a bit, eh? Well you could do worse. I'm pretty incredible, if I do say so myself. And I do. Right, Tasha?" The receptionist giggled and I jerked in place when he reached out for my hand, his uncomfortably warm in my own. "My name is Sybok and -"

His eyes widened and he dropped my hand as though I had burned him. I felt the same. The creepy-crawling feeling that usually hit me when someone touched me was almost overwhelming.

The spike of pain in my head caused my stomach to roll unpleasantly. The almost-content feeling that I had enjoyed from the transport had completely evaporated. Vaguely, as though through a long tunnel, I heard the perky receptionist say something, and his deep voice respond. I shook my head once, trying to focus on the conversation, trying to push back the weird feelings that swamped me. It was too much. I heard the Vulcan's startled curse as my eyes rolled back in my head and then I couldn't hear much of anything at all.

"Liz. Look, I don't really give a fuck. You have no idea... no fucking idea what's wrong with this kid. You're lucky his brains didn't leak out of his goddamn ears when we met."

I blinked, freezing. The hum of the ship was unfamiliar, much higher-pitched than my own Enterprise. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, carefully not changing my breathing. I recognized his voice, but frankly what he was saying was too damn interesting to not try to play possum for a little bit longer. I heard Dehner's response: cool. Almost cold. Certainly not very happy-sounding.

Sybok sighed. My eyes bugged out in the darkness. The idea of a Vulcan sighing was just too damn crazy to believe, let alone what he was actually saying. I felt like I was on one of those candid-camera holos. "Liz. Come on. You know you owe me. Give me three days. I'll be back and we can go on per the usual. But if you don't let me try to fix this shit, this kid is gonna be smoke. Poof."

I was uncomfortably aware that I had to pee.

"No.. I don't think so. From what I know he seems like a pretty reasonable guy. It's just one of those weird, fucked-up things." Again, the sigh. I sat up, turning towards the Vulcan at the desk. He was sitting with his elbows on the surface, rubbing at his temples. Sybok;s gaze jerked towards me and I frowned, getting to my feet, not meeting his eyes.I felt like I'd been hit with another one of Spock's fucking nerve pinches. I took a cautious step, and then another, stumbling a little on the floor on my way to the head.

I flinched away from looking at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. I knew what I looked like; sunken, bruised-looking eyes, too-thin face. I had refused to let myself turn to alcohol or one of the myriad of drugs that I had available to cope. Bones had harumphed and muttered something about damnfool infants, but I could tell that he had been relieved that I wasn't taking that route. Still. I felt like shit. I was confused, and really damn embarrassed that I swooned. What was that? It had almost felt like a low-grade electrical current. Fucking Vulcans and their weird-ass heebie jeebie shit.

I set my jaw and made myself straighten my shoulders before walking out and facing Sybok. He jumped when he saw me, hitting the end button on the comm unit rather hastily and jumping up. He ran his hand through his hair, and it was so off from what I knew of Vulcans that I couldn't help but gape a little.

"Uh. Hi there. There's some coffee if you want it."

I shrugged and went over to the small carafe, helping myself.

"Also, in the interest of inter-species harmony, I just want to state for the record that I'm not kidnapping you. Or, not just kidnapping you. I have a very sane reason for...uh. yeah. Well, the point is I'm not batshit insane and I think I can help you."

I blinked. "Help me? With what? Getting a job?" My voice sounded like I had been gargling sandpaper.

Sybok rolled his eyes. "No! Jesus, you're like, bleeding all over the place and you don't even know it! Look. I know this is going to be pretty damn invasive for someone you just met, but I know that I can help you. Let me guess. You've had... issues concentrating. You can't sleep. You don't know quite what's fucked up, but you know it's wrong."

"Like I misplaced something." I froze, staring at him with my heartbeat pounding in my throat like a small, trapped thing. What. How the fuck could he... did Bones call him? Was that why he was so cool with me going out into the black without backup?

Sybok pointed his fingers at me, shooting them like a gun. I took a sip of my coffee, more so that I would have something to do with my hands rather than because I really wanted it. I kind of felt like I had been punched. He crossed to the door. "Look. We have a shitload to talk about, and you might have noticed that it's not exactly the roomiest area in the world here. Let me give you the nickel tour, and if you still want to talk then we can do it from the bridge. Such at it is. This bucket of bolts isn't exactly the Enterprise."

I blinked. My head was still pounding. I shrugged . Sybok stood and I followed him out of the small door and into a dim corridor. There were three other doors; one that was diagonal to Sybok's berth, and two at either end. Sybok stood out in the hallway, and activated the sensor for the other door. "Your room. Head is through there, just like mine. Yours is the smaller of the two though." He pointed. "Rec Room-slash-dining area. We're going this way." He pointed again. "Mind that step there. I've been meaning to fix it. Liz would kill me if I broke her new toy."

"Liz?" I had heard him say that before.

"Elizabeth Dehner. Your new boss. She's not too thrilled that I shanghaied you, but I managed to convince her that you'd probably start bleeding from the eyeballs if I didn't do my 'Vulcan voodoo.'"

The term made me jump. Sybok didn't notice. He was making his way to one of the seats that faced the prow. It was a tight little ship. Raider-class if I wasn't mistaken. We were cruising on impulse I flicked my gaze at the console, but couldn't tell where we were headed. It looked a lot like we were just aimlessly flying in the black.

"- so okay. Have a seat. You're pretty much overly-qualified for this. I'm guessing you know how to pilot this thing in your sleep, yeah?"

I was surprised at the smile that stretched my mouth. "Yeah. I think I'll be okay."

Sybok snorted, and I was speaking before I could make myself shut up. "What the fuck is up with you, man?"

Sybok stopped in mid-babble; something about the dilithium capacity. He raised an eyebrow in the familiar way that made my heart hurt and I had to swallow hard. "Ah. Well, about that." He blew out a breath that made his bangs flutter. "Look. Do you want a drink? I want a drink. Romulan ale okay with you?"

I blinked, holding up the coffee. I shook my head no, but Sybok didn't notice, rummaging in a side console and digging out the bright blue bottle. I noticed that he still had the little cruiser on autopilot, and shifted in my seat a little watching him quietly. It was pretty obvious that he was uncomfortable about something, and frankly it was interesting enough that I couldn't help but give him my undivided attention. Sure, it was weird. It was weird as shit. But I didn't get a freaky vibe off of him. He reminded me more of a kid who was trying to talk very fast so that he didn't get grounded more than anything.

Besides. I could handle myself, Vulcan or not.

And I wasn't 100% sure that he was a full-blooded Vulcan. Which hurt. Spock had told me that he was the only half-breed in existence. Knowing that he lied to me about something else... no. Had to block that or I'd lose my shit again. It didn't matter. Why couldn't I just get over this!?

"Shit. That burns a little." He burped and sat back in his chair, closing his eyes. "Well. There's not a good way to sort of segue into this, so I'm just gonna go for it, okay?"

He opened one eye to confirm my nod before shutting it again and beginning to speak.

"A long time ago, on a planet very, very far away... a planet that doesn't even exist anymore thanks to one particularly fucked up megalomaniacal Romulan, there was a kid who didn't agree with his family. Vulcans repress all emotion. Shit, they jam that stick so far up their ass that they couldn't find an emotion if they had a goddamn tricorder and cartography chart. This kid was kind of a loner. He had one friend, but the expectations on their families made it difficult for them to be friendly. Not exactly ostracized, because his family was very powerful, but not exactly welcomed with open arms. He didn't believe that those emotions- which don't let anyone bullshit you kid. Vulcans feel just as much as humans do.- should be repressed. Logic was all well and good. But he didn't believe that they were mutually exclusive. This kid- well, he was a teenager now- went on a school trip to the other side of the planet, and to his shock found that there were others who felt- felt!- the same way that he did."

Sybok took another shot of the blue ale, sucking down a few gulps. He took a shuddering breath and continued. "So long story short- his father wasn't too thrilled with the kid acting against all tradition. In fact, the kid's father insisted that no one from his family contact him every again. He was vrekasht; outcast. Fast forward about twenty years. Planet destroyed. He even tries to contact his family to see if he's needed, and is told that... well. Still not Vulcan enough. Thanks but no thanks."

Sybok opened his eyes, staring at me with a gaze that was dark brown and just as intense as Spock's. It made me shiver, dropping my gaze to my coffee. I took a few sips, then set it down, fiddling with my jacket strap.

"What do you know about bonds?"

The words make my stomach knot. Spock had said- well. He had said a lot of things. I guess it didn't much matter now.

Sybok leaned over and touched my forearm with one finger. The low-grade zap startled me, and I jerked my gaze up to meet his. "Kirk. This- I know you don't want to tell me this shit. It's personal. I get that, really man. But if you don't let me help you... you're just going to get worse. I don't think Liz realized how .. uh. How fucked up you really were, or she probably wouldn't have hired you right off. She likes her employes to be as drama-free as possible. 'Specially since that Mitchell fucker. Jeez, talk about a drama queen."

I rubbed my forearm, feeling like an idiot. "I don't know much. I was in.. a relationship with a Vulcan. He told me that we were going to be bonded, but his family. I. I'm not Vulcan, so it wasn't going to work out. Sp-my Vulcan told me that a bond was many things; but to a Vulcan it was vital."

"Did you have a bond with him?"

I shook my head. "No. He wasn't sure that my mind would be compatible. That's one of the reasons that he wanted me to go back to the colony to meet his father."

Sybok wrinkled his forehead, thinking. "You're sure? No bond?"

"No." I remembered Sarek and T'Pau talking about severing a bond, but it didn't make much sense at the time. Spock had told me that a bond could only be made between two Vulcans with very strong minds. They'd also spoken of a Spock having a betrothal... no. No! I shoved that thought way deep, like I'd done with the others.

Sybok sat for a moment, his fingers tapping restlessly on the arms of the chair.

"So okay. What do you know about mating bonds?"

I spat out my coffee.

Sybok raised an eyebrow. "Holy shit, kid. What the hell were you doing getting involved with a Vulcan? Didn't he tell you anything?"

I shook my head and wiped my chin and the console in front of me. I looked up only once- trying to convey what the actual fuck with my eyes alone.

Sybok sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So okay. Do you need alcohol for this? Because you need to tell me what the hell happened. From the start. Obviously Spock has fucked you up somehow-"

Hearing Spock's name caused me to freeze. I don't know what expression was on my face, but Sybok actually flinched back. I had reacted before I thought my way through it. My hand was fisted around the collar of his jacket, tightening without control. The rush of adrenaline was completely bizarre. It had been so long since I had felt ... anything, really. "I never... ! I nev-" my voice cracked and Sybok winced.

"No. You didn't." He met my gaze. That more than anything made the fight go out of me, and I collapsed back into the chair, biting the inside of my cheek.

"Kirk. Spock is my half-brother. The reason I can help you is because of that. I'm not a mind-healer, but somehow my brother has bonded with you. I can feel it reaching out to me. Your bond is desperately trying to fix itself, Kirk. It's looking at me like I'm a Deltan that forgot hix's pheromone suppressors."

I heard the words, but they made no sense. "But. He didn't! He couldn't!"

Sybok looked at me with pity. "That's just the thing. He did. Whether he lied to you; whether he did it without your consent or not, you were bonded to my half-brother. The bond is strong, Kirk. It's pissed that all the I's haven't been dotted and the T's haven't been crossed. That bond is going to fucking kill you if you don't find a way to fix it. And fix it fast."

Win,
It's been eight-hundred and fifty-six days, twelve hours, and twenty minutes since I've gotten to hold you. I promised you that I would write, but I'm complete shit at this sort of thing. God, I miss you though. I look forward to each comm that you send, and keep them all. The guys laugh at me for being sentimental. Is it sentiment that keeps me looking forward to your comms? Whatever. I just know that seeing them makes me happy. Each post is one step closer to us requesting to work on the same ship. I think they're going to transfer me to the Kelvin. Robau seems like kind of a hardass, but I'm sure things will work out. Hang in there babe. We'll be together soon. I love you.
-George

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ensign Winona Kirk,

As you are no doubt aware since our wedding, my wife's family has chosen to cease all acknowledgement of their daughter given Amanda's subsequent choice to reside off-planet at my home on Vulcan. She has often spoken of you with a not insignificant amount of frequency. She is not prospering. The loss of her familial unit appears to be quite distressing to her emotional needs. I have taken the liberty of making a few inquires with my contacts at Starfleet. Your scheduled leave appears to be quite fortuitous. Doubtless, you will also note that I have included one first-class berth on the transport ship

Nebula. Amanda is not aware of this missive. I ask that you keep this within the utmost confines of secrecy.

P.S. Additionally, Amanda has expressed a desire for something called Snickerdoodle Surprise, which unfortunately is not available on Vulcan. Indeed, I have been quite unsuccessful in attempting to procure this item. I would be most appreciative if you would assist me with this imperative matter.

Sarek, son of Skon of the House of Surak

I had no idea that I was broken until Sybok fixed me.

He insisted on going to the new colony to have someone check his work, repeating that he wasn't a mind-healer.

I refused. Completely. No way. No way was I going to let those bastards anywhere near my head. I vaguely remember Spock's dad touching me in the aftermath of the whole ripping-out-my-heart-and-stepping on it thing. If what Sybok said was true- and had yet to give me any reason to doubt him- the bond things recognized family. Sarek would have had to know what he was doing. It wasn't so much that he had maybe -probably- broken the link between me and Spock. Sure, it sucked, but Sarek had never attempted to hide how he felt about me. He was hardly the first daddy to think I was no good for his kid.

Anyway, to make a long story short, no fucking way was I going back to the Vulcan colony. Sybok had done something so that I wasn't so much the walking wounded. He seemed nervous about it, like he didn't trust his capabilities, but I did. It had been a little weird, sitting on the bed with him, knees brushing as we both sat indian-style. Sybok had taken a deep breath and leaned over, touching both sides of my face with his fingertips. I could hear him in my head; felt his presence like a solid stone foundation, fixing everything that was fucked up. I could actually feel myself getting stronger.

In the two months that followed, I had settled into my new job. I'd been able to sleep more than two hours at a time. I'd even gained back a little bit of the weight that I'd lost. As far as I was concerned, Sybok had done plenty.

"Kirk. Food's on, man."

I grinned. Sybok was a vegetarian, like the other Vulcans I knew. For him though, I had the impression that it was more of a dietary thing than a pacifist thing. And he wasn't all that bad of a cook to tell the truth. I slid into my chair, scratching idly at my stomach. I yawned.

"What's on for today?"

"We're going to have to pick up after that dumbass, Mitchell. He's got the Telliarian shingles. That dude isn't going far from a bathroom for about a week. Jesus. I don't know why she continues to keep him. I seriously don't think he could find his own ass in a dark room."

Telliarian shingles was a STD. I snorted, digging into a plate of purple squishy...something that Sybok had handed me. I coughed, my eyes watering. I coughed again, wondering if it was possible to actually have your taste buds jump off your tongue, then grabbed for my coffee. "Ass-gaaack! hole."

Sybok just grinned. "Be careful. It's a little spicy."

Once I got past the first blast of heat, the squishy stuff wasn't too bad. "So. Mitchell?" I'd known Gary at the academy, briefly. He wasn't a bad guy. He just didn't see the point with busting your ass when there was a less labor-intensive way of accomplishing something. 'Fleet hadn't really appreciated this, and they'd parted ways right around the time Gary had failed the Kobayashi Maru.

"Yeah. He's picking something up. Some bigshot." Sybok whistled. "Wheeeew. That's a lot of dignitary. Kirk, that's three times our normal fee!"

I raised my eyebrows, slurping the last little bit. I grabbed a carrot stick -Bones would shit himself if he saw that I was voluntarily eating my vegetables for breakfast- and pointed it at my partner. "Yeah. Well, if the payout's that good, then they must be a giant pain in the ass."

Sybok was sitting ass-backwards on a chair, eating with half of his attention on his plate, and the other half on the small PADD. I had gotten to know him pretty well, in the way that you do when you spend a shitload of time rattling around a small space with just one person.

Sybok had adopted a lot of human characteristics. He was almost a caricature of human tics, colloquialisms and idiosyncrasies. But he was still Vulcan, and some things, like lying, didn't come naturally to him. Sybok's shoulders tightened as he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. Then in a bright, fake voice he said, "Oh.. no one special. Just a... lady." I watched as his fingers flew over the PADD. I raised an eyebrow, glancing up to read the reflection of the PADD's screen on the metal above Sybok's head.

Who the hell was T'Pring?

"Pinksford to the Hellsbane."

I grinned, the name of our raider never failing to make me snort. Sybok was hiding in his room. "Hellsbane here. Ready for transporter. On your mark." I hit a few keys on the console to lower the shields and looked towards the small area to wait for our next job.

She was beautiful. Sybok had only said that she was from a very important family; he hadn't really given me any details. I could only see half of her face from the way she was standing. Her eyebrow was perfectly shaped, a light, almost blonde color. Her hair was caught up in an elaborate style, small crystals braided into the fine strands. Her robes were a dark green that made her icily pale skin look absolutely luminescent. She turned and I got an eyeful of her face.

Holy shit.

Her eye was swollen, the dark greens and yellows of the bruised skin completely visible as she turned to face me headon. She met my gaze unflinchingly. It was so odd to see the remnants of violence on the body that seeing her bruised like that shocked me. Most people used dermal regenerators to get rid of bruising. I opened my mouth to try to give her some of the diplomatic courtesy that Starfleet had pounded in my head when her gaze shifted, slightly over my head.

"Sybok. Mr. Kirk. Greetings and long life."

Sybok nodded. He could see a slightly different angle than what I could, but whatever he saw was making him flush greenly with emotion. I could see a muscle in his jaw twitching. He looked absolutely furious.

To be honest, it was pretty obvious that they knew each other. Yesterday, the poor guy had just about had a nervous breakdown when he saw who our next meal ticket was. Now, seeing her obviously hurt- he was thiiiis close to losing his shit.

"Hello." I clumsily flashed the ta'al, and her top lip twitched at my attempt. "Can I offer you refreshment?"

"Not at this time. Sybok, I wish to converse with you."

Oh-kay then. I glanced at Sybok who was moving towards T'Pring, his gaze narrowing. "Explain."

T'Pring touched one elegant finger to her face. Her eyebrow winged. "You are angered."

"Yes! Of course I am!" Sybok took another step towards her. I could see that he had a deathgrip on his hands, holding them behind his back. He was holding one hand with the other so tightly that his blood flushed green under the surface of his skin.

I watched from one to the other, feeling simultaneously like someone who was watching a very fascinating holo, and the biggest third wheel in history. It was pretty obvious that they had history together.

For some reason, T'Pring's gaze flicked towards me, before looking back up into Sybok's eyes. She gave a tiny, almost negligent shrug. "My intended was not an... ideal match. It appears as though he Burns for another."

Seeing Sybok utterly gobsmacked was worth the price of admission. At first, I didn't understand why he also glanced at me. Well, duh. Obviously they didn't need me here listening to a private conversation. I turned back to the console and made sure we were on course for Geloas III then made myself scarce. They could handle their personal shit without me following along like a spectator at a football match. I started to slink out of the main area, but T'Pring's cool voice stopped me before I could get very far.

"Kirk. James. I believe that this discussion shall, by necessity, include your presence."

My eyebrows wrinkled. The imperiousness was obviously second-nature. It was hard to take offense. "Me?"

"Indeed."

I looked over at Sybok. Sybok was staring at the bruise on T'Pring's face, the muscle still twitching in his face. "You know that's taboo."

T'Pring's eyebrow rose almost to her hairline. "I do not particularly care."

Sybok's shoulders slumped. "Shit. This is going to take awhile. You're meant to be on Geloas III in twelve hours."

T'Pring drew herself up to her full height. "James Kirk. I will take that refreshment now. Sybok will join us in ten minutes."

My eyes bugged out. "Uh, yes. Ma'am, I can do that." Sybok was very carefully not meeting my eyes, punching something into the console. I stood up and walked towards the other room, T'Pring following along in my wake like a very stately duckling.

"Would you like some tea?"

T'Pring tilted her head, staring at me. "You are quite aesthetically pleasing. I was not aware of this. The Elders have spoken of your mental acuity often. Of your aptitude for command."

I froze. "That's weird. What I got from your Elders was that I was a power-hungry cockslut, looking to pevert one of your chosen sons to my crazy human ways."

T'Pring's lips twitched.

"Is that funny?" I thought I had gotten past all the anger, but I could feel it boiling up in my gut, ready to spew up and out of my mouth.

T'Pring shocked me by reaching out and running her fingers lightly over my forearm. The absolute surprise of it caused me to pause mid-step. "I find no amusement from this, no. I have much to say to you, James Kirk if you will consent to listen."
Well shit. Who could argue with logic like that?

I sat down, but couldn't help the almost wooden way I did. The anger wasn't all the way gone but nervousness had crawled up somewhere in my throat, matching it.

"I wish to speak of you about biology." She was the Vulcan Madonna, completely and utterly serene, except tof the light tinge of green at the very top of her ears.

"Uh. What kind of biology?"

T'Pring arched an eyebrow. If she had been anything but Vulcan, I would swear that the glint in her deep brown gaze was amusement. "Vulcan Biology."

I blinked, and unexpectedly, blushed. "You mean the biology of Vulcans? Biology as in... reproduction? Like, the birds and the bees?"

T'Pring's lips twitched again. No doubt about it this time. For Vulcans, this was practically chortling on the ground. "The birds and the bees are not Vulcan, Mr. Kirk."

Well, that was obvious. During my stint as Captain of the Enterprise, I had had several different kinds of awkward conversations, all varying in length and embarrassment level. Learning to put aside your secondhand-humiliation wasn't something they taught at the Academy though necessity and the five years of experience had made me rather good at it.

This one, however, made me feel like my mom was explaining sex to me again- with all the hand puppets and banana-wearing rubbers and all. I just shut my mouth and tried to look more like I was listening, and less like I was trying not to giggle like a twelve-year old again.

"Mr. Kirk. Do you know how Vulcans choose their mates? I know that you must have wondered..."

And all of the sudden it wasn't funny anymore. I understood who Sybok and this beautiful woman must have in common and it hit me like a punch to the balls, sharp and vicious.

T'Pring blithely continued, like she wasn't sitting in front of me bruised and beautiful, dropping bombshells like phaser blasts. "I do not say this to cause emotional distress, Mr. Kirk. It is ... an... ilogical time in our otherwise logical species' biology. In Male Vulcans, we call it the pon far. We shield it with ritual and customs shrouded in antiquity. You humans have no conception. It strips our minds from us. It brings a madness which rips away our veneer of civilisation. Pon farr." She gave a slight movement, too delicate to be called a shudder. "The time of mating. There are precedents in nature of coure. The giant eelbirds of Regulus Five, once each eleven years they must return to the caverns where they hatched. On your Earth, the salmon. They must return to that one stream where they were born, to spawn or die in trying."

A horrible suspicion began to take me out of my own problems. "But-"

I hadn't even noticed that Sybok had joined us. "Yeah. We can't exactly return to Vulcan to indulge this drive, Kirk. It's..." Sybok looked off into space for a minute. "Imagine that something you can't control... it takes you over and you must give over to it. Without your consent. Without even your knowledge in some cases, because as an extra fun bonus, it takes away your brain. As an even added extra bonus, you'll die if you don't... mate. We call it the Plak Tow, but what it really means is you are on fire. Your mind, and your body, and everything in your soul is screaming out to end the burning. You are on fire and..."

"Sybok."

Sybok jerked as though she had slapped him. I saw his nails bite into his fisted hand.

"Mr. Kirk. This was before, when we had our planet. Since..." T'Pring broke off for just a second that even with everything else she was saying still broke my heart a bit. "But now our only hope is for isolationism. Logically, if the remaining Vulcans are not off-planet, then there is no chance of them making a link with any other. We have had three males perish over this. With a race so severely decimated, this is the ultimate injustice; that our own biology works so strongly against us."

I somehow managed to keep the blue balls joke to myself. This was so, so far from anything approaching funny, but I hardly was the first to have inappropriate reactions to serious situations."Okay. So... why do you need me?" I spoke slowly. I was pretty sure that I already knew the answer if the panic clawing its way up my balls was any answer.

Sybok's shoulders slumped. T'Pring became very, very still.

"Since the age of seven, I have been betrothed to Spock. By our parents' arrangement. Less than a marriage but more than a betrothal. In this way our minds were locked together, so that at the proper time, we would both be drawn to..." She breaks off and I struggle with the bright green burst of jealousy that strangled me.

"Oh. So. Uh... what's the problem? Why aren't you guys making beautiful Vulcan babies right now?"

Sybok tenses and glares, and for one second I'm actually afraid of him; afraid of the menace in that stare.

"The problem, as you so aptly term it, Mr. Kirk, is that Spock has no interest in mating with me. He made that abundantly clear when he attempted to break our betrothal two years ago."

At this both Sybok and I jumped as though goosed, staring at her.

For a species who claimed not to pander to human emotionalism, they sure do 'smug' incredibly well.

"Indeed. I do not claim to know all of what transpired with you and my former intended, but he attempted to... how do you say... 'kick me to the curb' when he realized certain obvious truths about himself."

"What?" Sybok breathed.

He took the word right out of my mouth. My brain had been going over what they were telling me, over the specifics and that damn Vulcan hedging that they were so good at, and one thing she said finally filtered through my brain and out of my mouth. "Did you say... die?"

T'Pring ignored Sybok and focused on me. "Yes." She didn't try to sugar-coat it. "That is why I attempted to. Well. Spock and I have never been ... emotionally invested in one another. But even I could not stay away if there was a chance that I could save him."

"What?" Sybok had recovered only to gasp out another question.

"Mr. Kirk. I have come at the request of one who has no other recourse but to seek supplication. I do not know why Sarek did not break our betrothal bond when Spock asked him to do so, so long ago,but I am quite certain that even he has accepted the futility of pushing a suit between his son and myself." She didn't have to point at the bruise on her face to make her opinion clear. "He wished that I convey a message to you." She held up a small comm chip.

"Wait!" Sybok grabbed her arm with the lightning-fast reflexes that Vulcans seemed to often ignore. "You can't just come here and start..."

There was a reason that Sybok and I were such good friends.

T'Pring simply turned her head, staring at Sybok without blinking, and he let go of her as though she had burned him.

Huh.

"What Sybok is trying to say is that... I just recently got over... some things. That Spock did to me. It messed me up pretty..." I blew out a frustrated breath. "Look, I'm sorry that he's sick or whatever, but I just don't see how it is my problem." Lies, liar liii-aaar My brain practically screamed at me.

She nodded and took a step forward, catching my hand and putting the chip onto my palm. "You are under no obligation to watch. You have done more for my people than..." she broke off. "I do not wish you any more emotional distress, Mr. Kirk. I was asked to deliver a message, and I have done so." She turned to Sybok who was practically vibrating in place, not sure whether to assist T'Pring or to help me with the emotional backlash that she'd just lobbed my way.

My fist closed around the small communication chip and I made my excuses, needing to just get away from all of this for a few minutes. The ship was so small that there weren't all that many places that I could go. My bunk was pretty comfortable. I'd gotten a slightly larger one, mostly as a small rebellion against Starfleet's instance on giving their senior crew what amounted to beds used for lonely military personnel. There was plenty of room for two people, although the only other 'person' I'd had in my bed was Sybok. Not sexually, of course. Sybok didn't swing that way no matter how much liquor there was in the galaxy, but he was a good friend and he'd indulge my need for cuddling. For thinking. For cuddle-thinking every once in awhile.

I tossed the comm chip up, catching it, tossing it again and again as I thought. Occasionally I heard the murmur of T'Pring and Sybok's voices. I kind of figured that Sybok would be bunking with me tonight, which was good. I.. I didn't know what to think. What to do.

Did I owe Spock anything?

Did I want him to die?

I can't say how long I lay back against my blankets, tossing the chip up and down, those two questions pinging around my brain.

Eventually though, I sighed and sat up, reaching over for my PADD to plug in the little chip. No. Of course not. I couldn't possibly let Spock die, not if I could do something to save him. I was over wanting to be with him. Well, okay. I don't know if I would ever be over it, but I couldn't just let him... no. This porn far thing couldn't be that bad, right? It was kind of weird to realize that Vulcans actually had sex, to tell the truth. I could do sex. And quite frankly, the fact that I hadn't had sex with Spock while we were together because he hadn't matured enough to want it skeeved me the fuck out. If this could make it right, then well. Maybe we'd be even. Maybe whatever kept him in my thoughts and dreams would burn itself out.

Maybe.

Mr. Kirk,

A mutual acquaintance has explained that you do not owe anything to my family, and pointed out the irony of my request given the circumstances of our last meeting. He rightfully extolled all of the ways your ... friendship... with my son has benefited both Spock's mental and physical well-being in the five years that you served together. And yet, I find myself breaking the emotional expectations held in such high regard by my race as I write this. I have no expectation of your cooperation in this matter. Indeed, it is a bitter truth that my own rigid yet utterly completely faulty logic has brought my son to this. I can offer you no explanations at this time. Nor would I expect you to listen to them. I can only ask that you... please, Mr. Kirk. Please save my son.

Sarek

TBC