A Healing Begins

Spock sat bolt upright in his bed, waking with a sound midway between a gasp and a scream. His nightmare had returned again.

Nyota awoke as well, sharing some of his horror through their bond. He was sweating profusely and seemed disoriented. They were not in their own quarters on the Enterprise, but in one of Sirin and Rachel's guest rooms.

Vulcans form bonds with other family members, too, not just with their mates. Spock's nightmare must have disturbed the other Vulcans in the house. Nyota could hear T'Lonna and Hannah crying, and Jason asking "What is wrong with Uncle Spock?"

A moment later, both Sirin and T'Pau knocked on the bedroom door.

Nyota returned to her husband's side and handed him a warm robe, which he gratefully accepted. He was still shivering, the results of a brief, diagnostic mind meld with his healer cousin.

Sirin gave Spock a glass of water and a mild sedative. Then he explained Spock's condition.

"This is a very serious problem, Spock. It must be dealt with and soon, if not for your own sake, then for Nyota and any children you might have. It is not the result of weakness on your part. Your subconscious mind is trying to force you to deal with unresolved issues. You have an illness caused by severe stress and mental trauma. We actually call it Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome."

"Thee is not alone in thy suffering, my child. There are many others who having survived the Genocide, still endure its after effects. Some are nearly paralyzed by depression. Some others have even chosen to take their own lives. Thee is much stronger that they, and with help, thee will recover. I will help thee, as will Sirin and the doctor on thy ship."

Spock took a moment to process what Sirin and T'Pau had said. They were correct. This illness affected Nyota and his other family members. It had potential to impact the performance of his duties. It had gone on long enough.

"What must I do to be healed?"

"The process has multiple steps. For you, I think the first would be a healing meld, either with myself or Grandmother, perhaps both of us. Drug therapy will be involved, most likely an anti-depressant. The third part will be counseling. The Enterprise has a ship's counselor, does it not?"

"One was recently assigned. She had not reported on board before we began our leave."

"There is one more thing that you must do. You must get the answer to the question that disturbs you. You want to know whether or not you can father a child through natural means. I know that it troubles you. You and Nyota will be in San Francisco for a few more days. In the morning I will contact Dr. Ellen Voorhees, who is a fertility specialist. She can test you both for fertility and genetic compatibility."

"Nyota and I have decided to wait to have children. Perhaps this could be done later."

"The issue is troubling you now. Though you may not see it, it is a part of the underlying symbolism in your nightmare. You must resolve the question. If testing reveals that you and Nyota will need medical assistance to reproduce, the process might take a few years."

Nyota squeezed Spock's hand.

"He's right, beloved. We need to know."

Spock nodded to her.

"Very well, Sirin. We will accept your wisdom on the subject."

"Now, I believe that you are no longer chilled, and that the medication has begun to relax you. Grandmother T'Pau's mind is most familiar to you, so I believe that you would derive the most benefit from a meld with her. Nyota and I will leave you both for a while."

T'Pau motioned for her grandson to move over a bit, to allow her to sit next to him on the bed.

"Is thee comfortable, my child?"

"Yes, Grandmother."

"Then we will begin."

So much pain, and most of inflicted for no reason! She followed the trail of Spock's memories back to its earliest sources. Even as a child of three he had felt the bigotry. There were many among her people who could not accept this unique and beautiful being, her grandson. Some even openly insulted him, children and adults alike. Where was the logic is this?

As a child, Spock had always been small for age, what Amanda had termed "a late bloomer." He was also very intelligent, generally working two to three grade levels above other children his age. This made him a prime target for bullies. Usually, their attacks were verbal rather that physical, but not always. Most times Spock was able to endure or ignore them, but sometimes they pushed too far. T'Pau did not understand where the teachers were when these events occurred, never around when Spock was being provoked, but always present when his emotions got the best of him.

It was recurring theme of Spock's young life. He was tested and provoked far beyond anything his peers had to endure. Most times he bore it with quiet dignity. When he did not, there came humiliation and punishment, only for Spock, never for his abusers.

The end result was that Spock felt himself an inferior failure.

T'Pau would now try to convince him otherwise.

Let us go back through thy life again, but with a different point of view.

A tiny, premature infant lay in his grandmother's arms.

"We have decided to name him Spock."

The fragile child turned his head to the sound of his father's voice. He held his own head upright. This pleased his mother very much.

"This one will survive. He's a fighter."

The scene changed, the child was older now, about eighteen months. Sarek and Amanda had been called off-planet on a diplomatic mission to a cold, artic planet. It was no place for a desert-dwelling infant, so Spock had been left with T'Pau. A friend had brought her own grandchild, who was a few months older, that the two little boys might play together. When it came time to give the little ones a snack, the discrepancies in their abilities became quite clear. The other little boy, Tovet, had not yet mastered the use of spoon and napkin. He pointed to what he wanted to eat and grunted. Spock placed his napkin in his lap and asked "Honey cake, please, Koko?" (This is what he had called his ko'mekh-il, his grandmother.) When he had received his treat, he thanked her.

The memory changes again, Spock was ten years old now. He, Sarek, and Amanda had just returned from Terra, where they had attended the memorial service for Amanda's parents, killed in a shuttle accident. While the family was gone, the elderly pet sehlat had also passed away. Spock handed it all with quiet dignity, retiring to his room to meditate. The next day he took an academic placement test, an oral exam that would determine his suitability for higher education. His score was the third highest on the planet that year, for a test usually given to fourteen-year olds.

Eighteen was the minimum age for admission to the Vulcan Science Academy. T'Pau felt a small surge of pride, along with Sarek and Amanda. There was no way Spock could be denied admittance, as he had already completed three quarters of the course worked required for a lower degree. T'Pau watched from the side gallery as the Senior Minister gave the Admissions Board's decision. Spock had been accepted. All would have gone well, had it not been for the Minister's snide comment about Spock's "disadvantage." Spock had never known the reason behind it, but T'Pau understood it all too well. The Minister had a grandson named Telen, one of Spock's tormenters. Telen was older, larger, and somewhat less intelligent than Spock. The VSA had rejected his request for admission twice.

This last is the most painful, but it is necessary for thy healing.

T'Pau sat in borrowed quarters on the starship, finding it difficult to meditate. Vulcan was gone. Her son Stryel and his bond-mate T'Lonna were gone, as were two of their three children. Amanda was gone, essentially ripped out of her Spock's grasp. Sarek had come to her, seeking her counsel. He had melded with her and shown her Kirk's provocation of Spock and Spock's relinquishing of command. For probably the first time in her adult life, T'Pau had no counsel to give. Loss was piled upon loss and grief upon grief. Perhaps with time and meditation, one might learn to cope.

Yet mere hours later, Spock was doing exactly that. He had forced himself to work out a plan with the very one who had goaded him into a loss of control. Together they had saved all of Terra and the few remaining Vulcans, returning from what should have been a suicide mission.

My child, one who can do such things is not inferior, nor are thee a failure. Kirk provoked thee in the time of grief. In the end thee rose above the situation.

There are other truths that thee must hear. None of what happened to Vulcan was thy fault, nor the fault of thy older self. Nero was a madman. If he had had any logic or sanity, he would have used his ability to travel in time to go back and warn his own people and evacuate his world. He could have saved his wife and child, but chose vengence instead. Logic and reason can not prevail against one who is so afflicted.

However, thee put thy grief aside, placed it in a compartment in thy mind in order to function. It did not go away, it merely festered. Now it demands its release. There are stages of grief which all must experience. It is time for thee to let it run its course.

With that, T'Pau broke the meld. Then she rose from the bed and left the room.

Nyota entered the room as soon as T'Pau had departed. She sat in the spot the older woman had just vacated and wrapped her arms around her husband. Spock rested his head on Nyota's breast and his tears began to flow. The tears he had wanted to cry on the day of Vulcan's Destruction, the day of his mother's death. He wept silently, but he wept just the same.

And then he slept untroubled in Nyota's arms.