Author: Erika
Title: From twilight to dawn
Pairing(s): Spock/Uhura, hints to possible Spock/McCoy
Beta(s): Perpetual Motion
Summary: uhura dies, spock grieves, mccoy raises spock/uhura's son
Rating: PG, slightly het, with hints of slash
Disclaimer: owed by Gene Roddenberry, J.J. Abrams and Paramount.
Warning(s): Death fic, angst
Series compliant: ST XI
~oo00oo~
In his sleep he reached for her only to find his hand touching empty air. He woke abruptly, clenched fist on top of the bed reining in his grief. Spock hadn't felt this kind of pain since his mother's death.
It hurt to breathe.
Vulcans did not feel, or so many people assumed. The problem was that Vulcans felt too much, too deeply. It was a thin line that separated them from their Romulan cousins.
He got up, washed his face, and dressed.
Spock left the quarters he'd once shared with his...
He kept on walking, pushing everything else back, needing to find some control over this broken bond.
Spock ended up at Sickbay. He stood at the doors, unable to enter. Wanting to, but afraid.
It was illogical to feel fear, he told himself.
Yet –
"How long are you going stand there you green-blooded hobgoblin?" McCoy greeted as he approached.
"I ..." Spock paused, making himself stand still. "Is the child all right?"
"He lives." McCoy watched him, concerned. "This isn't right, Spock."
"I did not ask for your opinion."
"No, but as doctors to you iboth /i you need to be here. You need to hold him." McCoy, stood next to Spock, talking gently to him as one would a frightened colt. "I know you miss her, but your son needs you. She wouldn't want this."
Spock glared at the McCoy. "You know nothing of what she wanted." He couldn't help but clench his fist, feel the tremble along his body. He would not lose control.
But he had miscalculated and not anticipated the good doctor reaching for his arm and dragging him inside
Vulcans were stronger than humans, but Spock had no strength. All the strength he once had, he had lost upon Uhura's death.
"Look, this boy needs you! And you need him." McCoy insisted.
They were within eyeshot of the child when Spock yanked his arm back, taking a few steps back. "I cannot hold him right now. I ... will hurt him if I do."
"Good God, man! Where did you get that idea?" McCoy met his gaze daring him to explain.
"Vulcans are touch telepaths, doctor." Spock said in a hard voice.
There was pity in McCoy's eyes. "I see." McCoy pointed to the incubator, where Spock's son lies sleeping. "But he doesn't know that. He doesn't know why his father isn't here. Why no one is here for him."
Spock stared at his son. What could he offer him? What could he give him? Uhura would have known what to do had she been here, he thought.
"You loved her. We all did. It's all right to miss her, Spock. To grieve for her. But you can't keep yourself away from your son, Spock. And I can't keep calling him iJunior/i, because I'm sure that is not an appropriate name for a Vulcan."
"Uhura, she wanted him named Skon, after my grandfather and her uncle. Nathaniel Skon."
"That's a good name." McCoy glanced to the child again. "Come on, there's a little green elf you need to meet."
"I could come back ..." Spock told him, still keeping his distance.
"You get your ass over here, or so help me..." McCoy warned, raising his Hypospray.
Spock's left brow rose a fraction as he stepped forward. "Of course, doctor." More quietly, "Thank you, Leonard."
"Don't thank me yet. Your kid's got himself some lungs." McCoy teased gently.
They stood there for a while, both watching the sleeping infant.
Spock found the calmness and peace he had tried to achieve as his fingers grazed his son's cheek.
Things would be all right and for now that was acceptable.