Home is Where the Heart Is

By

Pat Foley

Chapter 4

Before Amanda's tears had even dried, before Komack had gotten back to them, she received a message from Spock. A subspace squirt. Not real time, but something.

She didn't worry about Vulcan sensibilities, she sought out Sarek. When Spock had first gone into Fleet, she had well…blackmailed her son into keeping in touch with her. Though at first he had agreed somewhat out of duress, now it had become part of his routine – and Vulcans love nothing so much as routine, a faint echo of the traditions that ground their lives. And she thought the routine of messaging her had grounded Spock, particularly early in his Starfleet career, when everything was new and strange and changing for him. Habit having been duly formed, Spock still messaged her more or less faithfully every week, depending on the press of his duties.

She was comforted too by his messages, not so much from what he said - he was a singularly uninspired correspondent, but just from hearing from him. When she didn't, she knew she had to worry. She had missed a few messages recently, and had assumed it was more related to her relocation to Terra than from any problem with her son. Now she knew better.

Sarek had never ostensibly listened to these messages, estranged as he was from Spock. Though over the years she had become less circumspect about playing them where he could hear them regardless that he had still not reconciled with his son. Now she didn't care. She sought her husband out, took him by the arm and brought him to the viewer.

"You'll want to see this," she said, hitting the message play button. And she took his hand in hers, clutching it firmly. "And I need you here. So just deal with it."

Sarek glanced sharply at her, but he didn't pull his hand back from hers.

The screen flickered briefly, to display the Starfleet chevron. Sarek shifted uneasily, but it soon flickered again, to display a Starfleet officer's quarters, hung in red draping not unlike Vulcan's ruby sky. And then Spock moved into the pickup. He was dressed in a Starfleet uniform, the sky blue pullover shirt looking out of place against the deep ruby.

"Mother. I hope to reach you before you hear tidings of this elsewhere. Though as the Enterprise is in warp and Grandmother has access to priority communications, I suspect I will not. Be assured I tried to reach you as soon as was feasible." For a moment, he hesitated, but then raised his eyes resolutely as if he could see her. "I regret that I had no opportunity before the Enterprise went into warp. I…have been divorced." His voice was strained, but no more so than having to relate such disturbing news. And he seemed in control. "The circumstances were quite... unusual. But I have not killed. I have released T'Pring to her intended champion. And I am well, Mother. I wish you to know that." He said that with a shade too much intensity to be considered full Vulcan control. But then he caught and drew himself up anew. "When the Enterprise reaches Altair, I will make a priority call and answer any questions or concerns that you might have. But for the present, you need not be concerned for me. I am…well enough. And I will speak with you soon." He cut the pickup, and the message faded to the Starfleet chevron.

Amanda pressed the replay and froze it to her son's image. She turned to Sarek. "What do you think? Is he free of it?"

Sarek gave the Vulcan equivalent of a negative headshake, a minute jerk of his chin and a slight shift of his eyes to the left, even as his gaze returned to his son. "He speaks …well enough."

"T'Pau said he spoke, even at the height of the Fever."

Sarek turned from the viewer and looked at her in astonishment. "That cannot be-"

"She said that he did."

Sarek shook his head, human style this time. "I don't see how that is feasible. But regardless, it is impossible to tell."

She looked up at her husband, hearing the strain in his own voice. "Sarek?"

But Sarek avoided her gaze. "I am also well enough, Amanda. Do not be concerned." But he took an abrupt leave, his fingers catching hers lightly before his hand slipped from hers.

And she looked after him, unable to help feeling that concern. Thinking that even after all this time, with a committed loving bondmate, Sarek could still be… haunted by the specter of Pon Far. Perhaps every Vulcan male was similarly haunted.

But that meant her son, unbonded now, half human, with divorce behind him and no history of a successful bond could well be devastated at his uncertain condition. What would he do?

She realized it was time, perhaps long past time, for her to have a talk with her son. About the human birds and bees. And perhaps where Vulcans fit in this. Based on Sarek's reaction, she doubted her husband would be much help in explaining the facts of life to their son in any practical way. Still. Yet.

She sighed. And reached for the communications console. Time to schedule another priority call, this time to T'Pau. The matriarch would at least want to know that Spock had contacted her. And claimed he was well.

To be continued…