Sorry, guys! The Child of Two Worlds is on hiatus from now on until after the winter holidays. I'm having a bit of a dry spell, and I have a lot of work to do for uni. Don't worry, though! Chapter 13 will probably be posted in late January or mid February.
No one seemed to care that Spock had vanished that afternoon. It occurred shortly after the three remaining officers returned to the Enterprise with the alien women. This was when Spock began to realise that the cramps he had experienced earlier had returned also. Every time he felt a stab of pain, it seemed as though it had come to torment Spock, bringing an hour of darkness with it. He was now very frightened for his babies, even when he didn't let it show. So, before further damaged could be done, he decided it was time to finally talk to Dr. McCoy about it. But, as the aliens were rushed to sickbay to be checked over, it was clear that Spock was not going to receive the attention he desired from the Southern doctor and his staff. Instead, he merely excused himself from duty to spend the rest of the day in his quarters. He planned to sleep, which he did do for an hour or two; it was just those parental worries that kept arousing him from the black world of the Vulcan's farthest dreams. It soon came to the point where it could be ignored no longer. It was beginning to feel like this nagging pain, a voice in his head, repeating a sorrowful song in its concern for the unborn Vulcans. So Spock had no choice but to interrupt the doctor's work. As he wandered to sickbay, where McCoy was figuring out a way to put an end to Noya-Tal's illness, his mind was racing with all the terrible possibilities of what could be happening to his children. Of course he had hopes for them – what parent didn't? – but with each pang, the expectant father prepared himself for the worst thing he could ever experience. He reached his destination, at long last. Just as he was about to enter the room, he was struck down by yet another cramp. This one was the worst one yet. A thousand knives were prodding him from the inside, making him bleed; the fluid leaking out of him like the juice from an orange. He moaned inwardly, drawn to the floor as he doubled over. His hands trembled as he caressed his belly, saying his last goodbye. But, as if by fate, Kathy emerged with Xyna-Myea by her side. They were gossiping and giggling together as they walked down the opposite corridor to where Spock was laying. And neither of them spotted him.
" You have strange customs here," Xyna pointed out, light-heartedly. " But I am very happy for you."
Spock heard Kathy chuckle lightly. " Thanks," she murmured. " I'm so nervous! I can't believe that I'm gonna be Mrs. Kirk someday!"
Mrs. Kirk. Mrs. Kathryn Kirk.
The words were fire to Spock's ears, and that fire began to grow as his anger did the same. Jim was his t'hy'la. He would always be his t'hy'la. The fact that Jim was abandoning his own children, too, was a thought which was unbearable. His strength eventually returned to him, but he was too angry to think straight. His intentions to see Dr. McCoy were long gone. In his rage, he marched down the corridor, heading towards the captain's quarters. He knew Jim would be there, and he knew that he was out to murder him, regardless of how much he loved him. How marvellous it would be to wring that human's neck. Thrash him up until he was nothing more than a bloody heap of flesh on the floor. All of that red liquid spilling from his veins. It was going to be the perfect revenge for the womb-dwellers.
His teeth and fists clenched, Spock burst in to Jim's sanctuary with an aim to bring the storm that would destroy everything in its path. Jim was sitting behind his desk, busy tapping the keys on his computer console. When he heard the sound of the door sliding open, he looked up almost immediately. He furrowed his brow in curiosity after he had seen that it was Spock. The last time he saw Spock was when he left to retire for the day. He hadn't expected to see him again until the next day or dinnertime, at least. The human captain guessed that Spock had become bored and was in search of something to do. Jim stood up to greet his friend, thinking how typical this behaviour was, and he hoped for a second that things were beginning to get back to normal. A friendly, cocky grin spread across his face. Spock didn't move a muscle. He was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Those cold, mud-coloured eyes followed the captain's every move. He didn't speak as he did so; he merely listened.
" Well, Spock. What brings you here? You know-"
Spock could take no more. He had to say it. " You are engaged to be married."
That confident smile faded instantly from Jim's mouth. It was quickly replaced with a furious scowl. " No one's supposed to know that yet," he snapped. " Who told you? Bones? Kathy?"
" It does not matter how I found out. You would rather give up your own flesh and blood than become the parent they need. They may be with me at this current time, but they will grow up away from me and they will wonder what terrible thing they must have done to make you abandon them. It's a thing of shame. I should have terminated them when I had the chance."
The human heaved a deep, weary sigh. Although he was disappointed that someone had given his secret away, Jim understood Spock's pain. He had caused it after all. He lowered his gaze would be level with the bulge in the Vulcan's abdomen. He could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat quicken in his chest. It was incredibly surreal to know that there were two brand new people in that thing, constantly growing and learning. But it was more surreal knowing that he was partly responsible for them being there. As their father, he felt guilty for leaving them behind. Of course he did. What he was doing was wrong, but in his heart, he knew that they'd be better off living alone with Spock on Vulcan. At least then they would be close to Amanda and Sarek. Jim gulped heavily and then, he spoke directly to them.
" I'm sorry." He then looked up to Spock's pale green face. He didn't seem to notice that he was greener than usual. " They don't deserve to know me," he confessed quietly with not a trace of regret or embarrassment in his voice. He meant every word and he wasn't afraid to show it.
Spock did nothing but give a silent nod in understanding. He didn't really feel like saying anything. He was just too weak. Suddenly overcome with the pain of his cramps, his head was lost in another galaxy, millions of miles away from this sacred place. Control over his body was snatched away from him as he stood there in the place of his livelihood. He had lost ability to see, hear, speak and smell. He was completely numb from the stomach down. He forgot all about his babies and the danger that was racing toward them. Jim observed him closely, suddenly aware of his blank expression. He could see that Spock had broken out in a cold sweat; the liquid was raining down his cheeks, and down his nose and forehead, as he twitched and shook violently.
" Spock? Spock, what's wrong?"
Again, Spock didn't respond. Instead, Jim witnessed his t'hy'la's greatest fear become a bitter reality. Those alien eyes, once filled with so much beauty, rolled back into Spock's head. And he no longer had the strength or will to stand. The next couple of seconds flew by as Jim rushed to catch him in mid-fall. The extra weight was too much. The two bodies were drawn to the floor. The adrenaline plunged Jim into a sea of panic, and he knew without a single doubt that he was drowning in it. Spock was still jerking and shivering as the pain took its toll; his head was filled with it. He could not stop. With each aggressive convulsion, Jim fell more and more nauseous. There was a chance that Spock and his babies might perish this day, and Jim did not know how to help. For the first time in a long while, he felt he had lost control. The desperate captain held Spock's body tightly, wrapping his arms around his quaking shoulders to shelter him from this unstoppable, crippling pain. In the strongest voice he could muster, Jim began his panicked attempt to scream for help.
" Spock! Spock, stay with me! Help! Please! Help! Somebody help me!"
Four red-shirted security officers carried Spock's unconscious body into sickbay to be operated on as if he were a holy vessel. Like he was blessed with two precious birdsongs that only he could comprehend. As if the nightingale was his brother. But now, in this dark, cold moment of dread, Spock was trapped, never to soar again. There was nothing Jim could do for him now. He ran with a different pack, it seemed, unable to understand this kind of hurt. So the captain was left outside in the cold to wander in this stupor. With all kinds of thoughts racing through his mind, Jim cast those heartbroken eyes downward. It was only until then he spotted the kiss Spock had given him. That emerald kiss. To the naked eye, it was nothing more than blood, expelled from the body in its struggle to fight. But Jim saw more than that. It was thin and watery and dead. The man heaved a sigh. There was no hope for him now. There was not a prayer he could mutter for his infant children. Not even a secret wish. This was a no-win scenario this time.
His beating heart was his only friend as he waited outside sickbay. After a while, the rhythmic throbs mimicked the ticking of a clock, making every second seem as ancient as a thousand years. But at the same time, Jim felt it wasn't that long ago he and Spock first met. A cocky first-time captain, Jim had been assigned to the Enterprise. Spock was the sought-after science officer, reluctant to work under an inexperienced child. But he'd been wrong. Because in the child, he found the man. The beautiful man he was sure to spend the rest of his life with. Since then, these two uncertain men had become each other's friend; brother; lover; t'hy'la. They had fought side by side in order to restore the peace in the universe. They had laughed, and cried, and danced the fine line of morality. They were about to become parents until this tragedy occurred. So much had happened in so little time. Jim couldn't fully understand why. Was it merely time moving on and on? Was it them; creating every pain and happiness themselves? Was there something else at work? God, perhaps? Was a creature like Him constantly testing them? A godless man, James Tiberius Kirk wondered if it really was possible. It would have explained so many things. The reason Kathy was in his life, the reason Spock could get pregnant. The babies' deaths. But, just as he was broken from these thoughts, the answers soon came.
Dr. McCoy stood there in his filthy, sweaty uniform, his blue eyes sullen and melancholy. Jim swallowed hard, too reluctant and frightened to ask. His concern soon cast a spell on him and he had no choice.
" Spock and the babies?"
McCoy heaved a sigh of misery, disappointed in destiny's outcome and himself. He, too, was reluctant to answer at first. " Sorry, Jim," he muttered finally. " We lost one. I did everythin' in my power, but…he was dead before I could help the little guy. I've removed the foetus, Spock's held him, but I don't think you should see him. It's not a pretty sight."
" He was a boy?" asked the captain, his eyes lighting up for a second.
McCoy gave a sad smile. " Yeah. Two non-identical boys. Didn't Spock tell you?"
" No." Jim slowly shook his head in a distracted fashion, his hazel eyes wide and his jaw dropping slightly in the shock. He had hoped, but never in a million years had he thought that these children were sons. He felt saddened by the fact that he had just lost one, but was grateful that he still had the remaining two. Wherever his eldest may be. Snapped back from his daydream, Jim looked up again and asked the doctor, " Can I see Spock?"
McCoy seemed to dislike the idea for a while, but he eventually caved in. " Sure, but just to warn you; Spock is just comin' 'round and…" He trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe Spock's sadness. " He's just not right. He's depressed. He's sick." He knew he was wrong in saying that because Spock was much worse than that.
Jim nodded. The friends hugged, as warmly and as tightly as their heartbeats, and when they parted, Jim had tears in his eyes. McCoy had been forgiven at last. The doctor then walked away. Jim didn't know where he was going nor did he care. Spock was the one who needed him now. The starship captain was hesitant at first, but it was only until a voice came to him to urge him inside. Jim was to be the strong one now.
As he stepped inside, taking every step slowly, the entire room was empty. Nurse Chapel and Dr. Simms, who had both helped in the operation, weren't even there. There was nothing here, except a cry. It was a lonesome, mournful, bodiless cry full of heartbreak and regret. Jim ventured further into this dark, deserted place and he quickly discovered that it was Spock who had been making this miserable sound. He lay on the right side of his body in a bed facing away from the door, where he would rest for the night. It was clear to Jim that his left side was still sore from the surgery. The duvet had been removed, but the pillow remained, becoming soaked in the Vulcan's tears. Jim had never seen such an awful sight. His own tears started to fall, only because a man of logic had been reduced to this. It made him shudder, too. He began to step closer to Spock, to make himself known to him. But he didn't respond. Whether Spock knew or not was a mystery. So there was one thing that Jim could do. As he approached the bed, he pulled Spock's body, turning him over onto his back. And Jim received a shock. His eyes, cheeks, chin and nose were wet from those unholy tears. Jim let out a gasp and began to stroke Spock's ebony hair, brushing it back away from his face, to bring him some comfort.
" Oh, Spock," he whispered softly. " I'm so sorry. I am sorry."
In response to Jim's needless apologies, Spock shook his head in protest. He then sighed heavily, his breath shuddering in his misery. " You know…Jim. I've acted shamefully."
" How so?" Jim frowned at him to listen, his hand clasped tightly around Spock's.
Even when he was given true love's kiss, Spock wasn't sure if he really wanted to confess his sins to the human hovering above the bed. But with those large, round sorrowful hazel eyes, which had long since been tamed, staring down at him, it was hard to resist. Spock would always be honest with Jim, no matter what the situation was. The Vulcan prepared himself to speak. " I've put my emotions before logic," he whispered weakly. His voice was low and crackly from both the anaesthetic and his emotional outburst. " I've behaved like a…"
A lump forming in his throat, Jim gave a small, understanding smile as tears welled up in those eyes. " A human. Oh, my Spock, you mustn't be ashamed of that," he whispered back. " It's a natural thing for humans, and your human half just got the better of you," he guessed. " You'll be all right," was his promise.
Spock shook his head slowly. " You say these things to comfort and yet I do not deserve to be consoled. My sons…I took my own sons for granted. I thought they would be with me always; both of them content and healthy throughout their lives. I had hoped that they would grow together as all brothers should, and with the knowledge of all things important. Education; respect; love…Family…"
At this, Jim swallowed heavily with guilt, but said nothing. He knew he had been more than a neglectful father, and the Vulcan didn't need reminding. Spock continued to unload his heartbreak.
" I assumed that they would be always be out of danger. Always. But…Thomas…My baby! My Thomas!" Spock sharply turned his head away in shame. Tears were bursting to leak out of his Vulcan eyes.
Jim's eyes widened and lit up, his interest piqued by the mention of the name. " Thomas? He's the one who died? I didn't…I didn't know that they both had names."
" I am yet to name his brother," the bereaved parent admitted with not a trace of shame in his voice. " I believe it is fair that you name him. Thomas means 'twin' in the Aramaic language. I had always been rather fond of that name, and I thought it was appropriate in this case."
Jim repeated the name in his head and gave a single nod in agreement. He smiled in spite of the recent loss. " It is, Spock. It's a beautiful name."
" He is a beautiful child," Spock sadly confessed. The memory of their meeting flashed across his mind. He would never forget how dead yet angelic Thomas appeared to be in the safety of the palm of his hand. " So small; so frail. I held him, you know."
Jim gave a subtle nod of the head, and he wore a wistful smile on his lips. His eyes seemed to harbour a yearning sparkle for a moment as he opened his mouth to speak. He made sure that his voice was low and soft before making a sound. " Yeah. I know. Bones said something about that," he hissed soothingly. He paused to watch Spock for a second, and then he muttered, " Tell me about him, Spock. Talk to me about Thomas."
He truly was eager to hear stories of his son. Spock was lucky to have known him for at least a few months of his short life. By Spock's hesitant eyes, it was obvious that the Vulcan was reluctant to comply at first. But then he felt something. One son was dead, but the other lived. He realised that he would one day have to confess everything to that little survivor. And Jim deserved to be told, too. So he left his doubts behind, whether he was ready or not.
" He's…He's strange but he's beautiful. He is not quite a human; not quite a Vulcan. Trapped between two worlds. He's not much of anything, but…He's my son. He's our son. And I love him for it."
" What does he look like?"
" I…cannot find the words. Thomas is…Thomas is everything I wished for in a child. Your chin and my ears. Ohh, those ears…"
" He had those pointed tips?"
" Just barely. They haven't quite developed yet. They're just lumps of transparent skin. I have never seen ears so small. He is nothing more than a doll; a child's plaything. But he is so much more exquisite than that because he belongs to me. He is mine, Jim. Now I cannot have him. He shall never take a breath, and it is my fault. My womb was meant to protect him and his brother; to shelter them while they grew…But it poisoned and killed him! If my womb kills those who inhabit it, then I am not fit to be a carrier."
A new batch of tears formed in his eyes. His shoulders shook as he broke down. The vigorous, sudden movements sent sharp, unpleasant pains down to his abdomen, where the incision was still fresh after the surgery, and was beginning to heal and scab over. The captain swallowed hard. His throat was sore and dry in his heartbreak for his sons' home.
" No, Spock. No," mumbled the human. It killed him inside to hear Spock talk of such things. " You can't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong, t'hy'la. Yes, you're right. Our son couldn't keep on living, but he did the logical thing just so his brother could stay with you. Now, isn't that what you wanted for your children? To follow the Vulcans' rules?"
Spock raised his eyebrows as he considered the possibility. In his unusual state of depression, he hadn't thought much about it and he was surprised that Jim was the one who brought it to his attention. But he didn't want to believe it. An unborn child choosing death over life? " Logic? My son did a logical thing?"
" Yeah," whispered Jim. He smiled warmly and wistfully. He caressed Spock's cheek tenderly, wiping those tears away with a gentle brush of the thumb in the process.
The Vulcan was now so close to insanity that he was completely blind to Jim's sweet actions. He didn't even flinch when he was touched. In amidst the chaos of his mind, he asked Jim a devastating riddle. Their eyes unwavering, the men stared at one another, their spiritual connection unbroken, as Spock raised his uncertain voice. " What good is logic if it takes my son away from me?"
Jim gasped inaudibly, his jaw nearly hitting the floor in his shock. Had Spock just denounced his faith in logic right before his very eyes? Jim gulped, growing pale. " You honestly don't mean that!" he cried. " We still have the other twin. We didn't lose him. Please, focus on that. He's still here. He's still safe."
Careful not to touch the sensitive part of the pregnancy bump, Jim placed his hand on it, anxious to know the little boy beneath his fingers.
Although Jim's affections were genuine, Spock felt stone-cold nothing towards him. He built up that wall again, bringing their relationship back to the start. He numbed himself to the touch, knowing no love except for what he felt for his offspring. He removed his eyes from Jim's, the whites glassy and blank. And in an emotionless voice, he finally ordered, " Leave me."
" Spock, you know it's just your grief talking. You'll move past this. I promise."
" Leave me alone, Jim!" Spock insisted with those velvet brown eyes on fire. " You are dead to me."
It took a few moments, but Jim agreed at last and began to make his exit. He felt his heart break piece by piece as he walked. Spock continued to weep as he did earlier, and it pained Jim so much that he himself started to cry. As he reached the door, he stopped for only a split second before going through it. Spock heard everything that went on, having shut out his vision, and wondered if the hesitation was genuine. But then, remembering that he no longer wanted to love Jim, he snapped back to his hostility. Spock placed a hand on his belly, silently making his unborn son a promise. Outside, the corridor was as empty and as dead as that little infant named Thomas. And to his surprise, Jim burst into tears. The salty liquid burning his face, he leant against the wall to compose himself. But his despair had him under its spell and he couldn't fight it anymore. He began to slide down, his hands covering his face as his shoulders shook violently. He now realised he had a choice. Two lives; both almost opposites of each other; one full of guilt and secrecy; the other with the pride of fatherhood. He only had to choose one, but it couldn't be done. His heart was torn. All he ever wanted was love. Love with Kathy; love with Spock. But he couldn't have it all. He had just one life; one choice.
Oh, my God.