A/N: Semi-researched medical issues here. Now taking suggestions for baby names.
"You're absolutely sure it's Rhys?" Scarlett asked Spock for the fifth time since she'd boarded his ship, which was 5.5 minutes ago.
When the commander of the station refused to allow his wife use of his shuttle to come to the Enterprise, Spock had volunteered to retrieve her in his ship. It had the same warp capabilities as the Enterprise, so his journey was only 9.3 minutes instead of twenty seven hours.
"I am certain. As is Leonard. Your son in much improved. He should fully recover with little difficulty."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock," the words were forced, reluctant. Even the Vulcan could sense it. "Thank you for coming for me."
"You can't go running off to the Enterprise on the chance that Rhys is there, Scarlett! You're needed on the station!"
His automatic answer, that thanks were unnecessary, died on his lips. It was the first time in their acquaintance that the doctor was not hostile to him. She was important to Leonard. Perhaps it was time to call a truce?
"You are welcome."
She looked surprised, and a half smile appeared on her lips.
"Dr. O'Hara, I—I want you to know, I would never intentionally harm Leonard. He is as important to me as our children."
"I believe you, Mr. Spock. Really."
They completed the journey in a not uncomfortable silence. It might almost be called amicable. Illogical as it was, Spock felt as though something had cleared between them, and they might start fresh.
Spock piloted the ship back into the shuttle bay, and Scarlett was out before he even powered down. He followed at a more sedate pace, and she was forced to wait for him when she came to the realization that she actually had no idea where to go. Her son was somewhere on this ship, and she didn't know which direction to take to find him.
"This way, Dr. O'Hara."
She followed him out of the shuttle bay and down a hall that looked just like every other hall on the ship. It was the same on the station; the interior halls were all identical.
"The students from the surface have been installed in Rec Room Seven. We have seventy one students currently on board. Your son has been placed in my former quarters."
"Former quarters?"
"The captain had one of the VIP suites renovated for Leonard and I, and the children."
That made sense. Scarlett didn't like the situation, Len having to live with a man he didn't want, but she would admit that it only made sense for them to share quarters, having to care for twins. But that didn't explain why Rhys was alone.
"Why is Rhys not with the others?"
"He reacted violently to the news that—he believes that you sent him away, because you no longer wanted him. He believed that Leonard and I were lying to him when we said you were searching. He did not take the news well."
"What?"
She couldn't have heard that correctly. Dear God, please, she didn't hear that correctly. What kind of monster would do that to a child?
"That bitch!"
It had to be the old woman. Seren's mother, who'd had five years to put ideas into her son's head. If she ever got her hands around that woman's neck—that wasn't important. What was important was undoing what she could of the damage done to her son.
They finally came to a stop outside a door. Scarlett felt a moment of panic. Her son was on the other side of that door. She hadn't seen him in five years. What if he didn't recognize her? If that woman really did convince Rhys she didn't want him, could he have forced himself to forget her? What if—?
"I do not believe your task will become easier with waiting."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," she muttered under her breath, fully aware the Vulcan would hear her, and pretend to ignore it. She took a deep breath as she gave him a nod, and the door slid open. She could see Len, who looked enormous and incredibly uncomfortable sitting on the bed with a boy, who was staring at a PADD in his hand. Leonard looked up at their entry and smiled at her before nudging the child. Scarlett's breath caught, and the words died on her lips as she looked into a near perfect replica of Seren's face, and eyes as green as her own.
"Rhys?"
He glared at her, and went back to reading his PADD. She felt her heart sink at that glare. The old woman must have really done a number on him. Len stood up, stretching, and motioned for her to take his place as he walked away, stopping to give her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. The door closed behind the two men, and Scarlett was left alone with her son.
"May I join you?"
He didn't answer, but he also didn't tell her to get out. She crossed the room and sat on the bed, careful to keep a few inches between them. He kept his body turned slightly away, determined to ignore her.
"What are you reading?"
"Moby Dick." The answer was bitten out, forced, but at least he answered.
"That was your father's favorite book. He laughed at me because I'd never read such a classic, in spite of all my education. He read it to me while I carried you."
He looked over at that, interest briefly overriding his intention to ignore her. He was quick to school his features into a scowl that could rival Len's as he returned to his reading. Scarlett looked around the room as she tried to decide what to say. It seemed a little ridiculous to mention how much he'd grown in five years.
"They tell me you were sick. Are you completely recovered?"
"I am at 98.7% of my normal health. I should reach 100% within the next thirty-six hours."
"That's good."
He still wouldn't look at her. How were they ever going to get anywhere if he wouldn't even look at her? She reached out and lightly brushed her fingers across his cheek. He was real and sitting right beside her.
The light touch was enough for Rhys to pick up her emotions: immense relief, anger at his grandmother, concern, and love for him. Was the doctor correct? Had she really wanted to keep him? He read nothing of the distaste or revulsion he'd been convinced he would find. She was only human; she wouldn't be able to hide her thoughts. He sat the PADD down and ventured a look at her.
"The doctor said you tried to find me."
Scarlett nodded.
"I never stopped looking for you, Rhys."
"Then why did you never come to Vulcan?"
She had to have known where the ambassador sent him. If she really wanted him, why didn't she come after him?
"I tried to, baby. I swear, I tried. But as soon as Starfleet found out I was headed to a ship for Vulcan, my interplanetary passport was revoked. I tried for two years to get off planet and come after you. Then Starfleet put me on a deep space station and I couldn't leave. After Vulcan was destroyed—no one would tell me if you were even alive. I never stopped trying to find you."
She was sincere, he could tell, but why would his grandmother lie to him? Could this be some sort of elaborate trick? He cautiously raised a hand towards her face. He needed to know her thoughts, her memories, not just her feelings. She saw his intention and pulled his hand up to her face, aligning his fingers with the correct meld points.
The landscape was foreign and chaotic, far too human. He was not very practiced at mind melds, was the fault his? But no, he wasn't alone. She was standing beside him, keeping his hand in hers, and slowly everything began to solidify. He recognized this place; the boat they'd taken out on the ocean his last birthday on Earth, only months before he was taken.
He looked below, and saw memories drifting on the surface of the water. If he lay down and stretched out his hand he could touch them. He could see everything. He saw memories of her childhood, but those were of no importance, so he moved on. Memories of medical school and a time when she lived with Dr. McCoy; memories of meeting his father. Those floated past too quickly to be properly seen, until their marriage and his birth. It was fascinating to witness one's own birth. He did not need the memories of his father's death; he had vague impressions of his own, and they were not relevant to the current inquiry.
Finally, he saw them: memories of the demands from his grandmother, that he come to Vulcan to be raised by her clan. Refusal after refusal to turn him over to the very woman who disowned her own son. Threats flying back and forth, until the day in class when the call comes in that her son had been taken from his school by the Vulcan Ambassador. Fighting with Starfleet to launch an investigation and get him back.
He wasn't aware that outside in the real world tears were spilling down both their cheeks, as he watched her repeatedly try to leave the planet, until finally Starfleet reinstated her commission and sent her all the way to Deep Space Six to get rid of her, and her continued efforts to subvert their orders against going after her son. It was all true. She hadn't wanted him to go. His grandmother had been deceitful. He hastily wiped at his eyes when he realized he was crying. He must not—
"It's alright to cry, Rhys."
"No. It's unacceptable to lose control of one's emotions."
Okay, that had to end immediately.
"Rhys, look at me."
He sniffed, but finally looked at her.
"Now listen to me, very carefully. You're as human as you are Vulcan. We have emotions, and we express them, and there's absolutely no shame in that. The shame belongs to the ones who tried to hold you to such impossible standards."
"I must be completely Vulcan. There are too few Vulcans left. I must—"
"You must do nothing, Rhys. I only expect you to be exactly who you are, and that's all that anyone should expect. You don't have to try to become someone else."
He couldn't stop the tears that welled up again. She wanted him, and she didn't want to try to change him. That was an acceptance he'd thought he'd never feel again. She pulled him into a fierce hug and held him as they both gave in to their emotions.
ST-ST
Leonard sat on his sofa, student medical charts on his PADD. The sofa wasn't as low as the ones in the rec rooms, thank God, but it was still fairly uncomfortable. The chair would be far more comfortable, he knew, but he also knew that if he got in it, he'd have trouble getting back out of it, and while sitting in it was wonderful, sleeping in it was not.
Fighting the yawn he could feel coming, he took another sip from his cup of juice before trying to focus on the screen again. He knew he was in danger of falling asleep on the couch, but Joanna was still at movie night with the other kids, and he wanted to wait up for her. He also wanted to get some more reading done. He'd already weeded through a lot, narrowing down possibilities, and his gut told him he was close to finding the student who brought this epidemic to the school.
He was almost certain that the cause was something environmental. One of the kids must have come into contact with something. His interviews with the children on board only reinforced that theory. The weekend "field trips" to different locations on the planet were a weekly occurrence, and he doubted the areas were checked any more thoroughly than making sure there were no carnivorous creatures about. If he could just get a rough idea of who the first victims were, they could be questioned. And he was sure he was getting close.
The door slid open, and Joanna bounded in. Leonard finally conceded defeat and set the PADD aside. He risked missing something if he couldn't even see straight.
"What movie did you see, Jo Jo?"
He was somewhat fearful of what Jim deemed appropriate viewing material for kids. He wasn't naïve enough to think that the kid would pull out some classic Disney, or even current animated holos, but if they watched Team America or Rocky Horror Picture Show, Leonard was going to kill him.
"Sulu has all of the 21st century Harry Potter holos! And they are so much better than the remakes from four years ago! We watched the first one tonight, and we're just gonna go through them all!"
Harry Potter was doable. At least it wasn't anything from that collection of Klingon children's programs that Cupcake had mysteriously acquired.
"That's good, baby girl. I'm gonna head to bed now, alright? Don't stay up too late."
He pushed himself out of the sofa, and as he stood, his arm accidentally knocked into his PADD, pushing it off the side table. He reflexively bent down to catch it, and as he did, he felt a sickening tearing inside, and a rush of pain. It was so unexpected, he pitched forward, unable to stop himself.
"Daddy!"
He fell to the floor, holding onto his midsection. Something was horribly wrong, he could feel it. He couldn't reach his communicator.
"Daddy!"
Joanna had a tight hold of his free hand.
"Comm- get my communicator, baby girl. Ah!" He breathed heavily, but was unable to stop the cry of pain.
"I don't see it!"
Where had he put it? Oh God, the pain was getting worse. It wasn't just physical: it was knowing that whatever it was, it meant something was wrong with his children, and he couldn't do anything about it. He had to wait for help to come to him.
"Check bedroom," he bit out. Joanna let go of his hand and ran into the bedroom.
"Leonard?"
"Something's wrong."
She returned with the comm. unit, and knelt down beside him.
"McCoy to Sickbay."
"Dr. McCoy?"
The answer was cut off by another shudder of pain.
"Something's wrong with my dad," he heard Joanna yelling. He grabbed her hand.
"St-stretcher," he finally bit out. Whatever had just happened, it was—
"He said to bring a stretcher!"
"Leonard? Ashayam?"
He couldn't even bring himself to answer. He couldn't actually form a thought beyond how much this hurt. Noting else in the world mattered but finding a way to make the pain end, and making sure nothing was wrong with the twins.
He had no idea how much time passed, with his baby girl sitting beside him, holding his hand. It could have been minutes or hours before the door slid open, and two nurses rushed in with a stretcher. It didn't register until he was lifted bodily while the nurses just stood there that Spock had followed right behind them.
The ceiling lights moved above him in a blur as he was rushed to Sickbay. He could hear people talking back and forth over his head, but was having trouble understanding the words. What were they saying? Where was Joanna? She would be scared. He had to make sure Joanna was alright.
"Be calm, Leonard. Joanna is well."
Why was Spock in his head again? What was going on? Why weren't they telling him anything?
Spock could feel his mate's confusion as both T'Sel and Neale Sayers worked over him. He tried to calm Leonard's mind, but was hesitant to enter the human's thoughts. He needed to be aware of T'Sel and Dr. Sayers. Something was desperately wrong, and he needed to be ready and alert when they informed him. Joanna stood beside him, watching as her father was hooked up to a number of devices, and Dr. Sayers ran a tricorder over his body. Spock could feel the girl's fear, a fear he shared.
"Damn!"
"Your profanity will not improve the situation, doctor."
"Just get him sedated, and hooked up to an IV. He'll need transfusions immediately," Spock heard Neale issue orders to T'Sel. Why would Leonard require a transfusion? It was unacceptable that he was not informed of the diagnosis. He MUST know what was wrong with his mate and his children.
"Nurse Chapel, make sure that O.R. 2 is prepped for immediate surgery," the doctor ordered as she left Leonard alone and motioned for Spock to join her out of the way of the activity. He was unsurprised when Joanna followed.
"What is wrong with Leonard?"
He didn't care for the expression on the woman's face. It indicated that there was a grave problem, and Spock felt a tendril of fear for his mate's life.
"Spock, Leonard needs immediate surgery to remove the babies."
Remove the—it was far too soon. Human gestation lasted forty weeks, but Leonard was only at twenty-nine.
"Spock, the placenta of the male has detached, which means that the fetus is without a blood supply, and without oxygen. He must be delivered before he suffocates. To make matters worse, the detachment has released copper into the uterus, which could kill both the female and Leonard. If we don't do an emergency caesarian immediately, we'll likely lose them all."
"Can they survive?"
"We'll do everything we can."
She left him standing in the main bay as Leonard was taken to the operating room. Spock could do nothing more than watch helplessly as they worked. He could lose his children. He could lose Leonard. It was only when he felt an added weight against his side that he realized Joanna was still there, leaning against him. He wasn't the only one affected by this. Joanna could lose her father.
"He will live," he attempted to reassure the child. It was the only acceptable option. If he lost Leonard….losing the children would be terrible, but he'd never expected to be a parent. As horrible as it would be to lose either of the bonds he'd begun to form with them, he could live with the loss. But if he lost Leonard—he wouldn't survive it.
"Spock."
He turned at the sound of Jim's voice, directly behind him. Joanna threw herself into the human's arms, crying. Jim held her tight as he looked to Spock for answers.
"What happened?"
Spock briefly explained what Neale had told him, his eyes never leaving the O.R. He couldn't see what they were doing, but he couldn't take his eyes away. He was unaware of precisely when Dr. O'Hara joined them, only that she spoke briefly to the captain before grabbing a surgical mask, and walking into the O.R.
"Spock."
Jim's hand on his arm startled him, as did the sight of red blood on Dr. O'Hara's clothes. He didn't know how long she'd been in there. All that really registered was the blood she was covered in.
"How's Bones?" he heard Jim ask the question he could not. He attempted to brace himself for bad news.
"He's doing better. The fetuses were removed, and he lost a lot of blood. He's out of surgery, and right now they're working on neutralizing the excess copper that entered his bloodstream. Once that's done, he'll be moved to a recovery room. He'll be out of it for awhile; he likely won't wake up for a few hours, but you'll be able to see him."
"And the children?"
"The boy did have some trouble with oxygen deprivation, but he's been stabilized. T'Sel and Dr. Sayers are watching the girl to make sure there were no complications from copper poisoning, but so far she's stable."
The relief in the room was palpable. Spock was finally able to breathe. Leonard had survived, and would be fine. The children as well. He hadn't lost any of them.
"When can I see them?"
He could not stifle the instinctive urge to hold his children close, to protect them from everything and everyone. He would have to be careful around the crew members who were sure to want to see, and hold, the infants.
"You can see them as soon as Dr. Sayers come out. You won't be able to touch them, though."
"What do you mean?" it was the first sentence to come out of Joanna since her father was brought in. Spock could feel her concern, and he shared it. Why would he not be allowed to hold his children?
"They're in an incubator, and they have to stay in there for awhile. They're so early that their lungs aren't fully developed. They have to minimize their exposure to pretty much everything on the ship until their immune systems are stronger, too. Too many things in the air could be harmful to them right now."
They were still in danger. His newborn children were in danger of dying, and there was nothing he could do to protect them. He might actually endanger them more simply by touching them. When would Dr. Sayers come out and tell him that he could go to them? He needed to see his children. He needed to see Leonard.
"What are you gonna call them?"
It was Jim who asked the question, and Spock froze. They had not discussed names for the children. The topic had never been raised. They were supposed to have two months more to come to that decision.
"We have not yet chosen names."
"Eh, that's no problem. My brother Sam was almost a week old before my parents finally named him. You know, Jamie works for a boy and a girl."
"I am certain that Leonard has told you we are not naming them after you, Captain."
It seemed that hours passed before Neale Sayers came out. The reality was that only twenty-six minutes passed between Scarlett O'Hara's arrival and Neale's, but Spock now understood just how relative the passage of time really was.
"Dr. McCoy is resting now. He should make a full recovery."
"And the twins?"
"Has Dr. O'Hara explained—"
"She has."
"Good. Given enough time to finish their development, they should be completely fine. We just have to be very careful until then. Now, Spock, you can come back with me, and Joanna. You might want to see your father before you retire for the night."
Was it really so late? Spock looked at the chronometer, and saw that it was indeed past 2200 hours. That raised the issue of Joanna's supervision for the night. She could not spend the night in Sickbay. She must rest, and Leonard would most likely sleep through the night. She could not stay in Leonard's quarters alone. And he could not leave Leonard, even if Joanna would be willing to stay with him, which he found highly unlikely. He supposed she would have to stay with the other children from Cerberus.
They followed Neale to the recovery room to see Leonard unconscious on the biobed. He was so pale. Surely that wasn't normal? The monitor above the bed was reassuring: his pulse was strong, and everything appeared to be normal. There were no alarms, at any rate.
Joanna sat in the bedside chair and grabbed her father's hand. Spock's attention was drawn to the incubator in the corner of the room, and the two infants housed inside it. His children.
They were so small. Tiny, even. Spock would admit that he was almost entirely ignorant on the subject of babies, but even to his inexpert eye they seemed too small. Could they survive?
They were dressed in identical Starfleet onesies, socks, and hats. It was impossible to tell which was which: their features were too similar to discern a difference at this stage. Even their ears were the same, which was something of a surprise. He had not expected his mostly human daughter to have such pointed ears.
"Joanna? Would you like to see your brother and sister before you leave?"
"Why can't I stay here?"
"Your father will likely sleep the entire night. He would not want you to stay up with him. You must rest. A room will be more comfortable for you."
"I want to stay with him."
He looked back at the girl, who was holding her father's hand as if afraid to let him go. For the first time, he thought of how traumatic this must have been for her. He left the incubator to stand beside her, and tentatively laid a hand on her head. She stiffened, but didn't pull away. He carded his fingers gently through her locks.
"Leonard is stable, Joanna. He is in no more danger. He must rest, and recover from the surgery, which is why he remains unconscious, but he will recover. Dr. Sayers would have told us if this was not the case."
"He looks so bad."
"I believe the expression is 'it looks worse than it is'? He will recover, Joanna. Now, would you like to see your brother and sister?"
She nodded and released Leonard's hand, to join Spock at the incubator. She looked at them with an awestruck expression on her face.
"They're so tiny. Which one's which?"
"I am—uncertain. I shall ask a nurse when one comes to check on your father."
He took her arm and guided her out to the main bay, where the captain was waiting with Scarlett, and now Rhys. It was pleasing to see the boy standing so close to his mother. It seemed that they had at least begun to settle their differences.
"Joanna, why don't you stay with us for the night? We'll come back to see your dad in the morning, when he's awake."
Spock was grateful to Scarlett for making the offer. And when Joanna started to protest having to leave, Jim was there to throw his weight behind the order, and get the girl off to bed. Sickbay was simply no place for her, and the night would pass much more quickly for her if she slept through it. She let them lead her from Sickbay only after getting Jim's promise that she would be allowed to come back right after breakfast. Jim stayed only a few minutes after that to check on his best friend and gawk at the babies.
Once left alone, Spock took the seat Joanna had vacated and took Leonard's hand in his own. He would not be satisfied until he touched Leonard's mind, and could reassure himself of his mate's condition. He kept the connection purposely shallow, going only far enough to verify that yes; the human was recovering as Neal Sayers promised. Once he was satisfied, he broke the connection so as not to disturb his mate's rest, and settled himself in for a night of watching over his family.
It was several hours later when he was roused from his light sleep by Leonard's stirring, and he looked over to see the human trying to push himself up. He immediately leaned over and gently pushed the doctor back down.
"Do not push yourself, ashayam. You must rest."
"Joanna?"
He couldn't remember, was Joanna with him when he fell?
"She is with Dr. O'Hara for the night. She will come after the morning meal."
He didn't feel right. His stomach hurt, and didn't feel—
"The twins?"
"Alive. Now, you must rest, Leonard."
"What time is it?" Why couldn't he keep his eyes open?
"It is 0300. Rest now, Ashayam."
Since he couldn't summon the energy to do more than nod, Leonard just closed his eyes again, feeling Spock take his hand before sleep claimed him. Five hours later, the anesthesia was finally wearing off, and Leonard could keep his eyes open for more than ten minutes. The downside to that was the fact that now he could feel the after effects of the surgery. There wasn't a part of his body that didn't scream in protest when he tried to push himself up. He was surprised that the alarms going off didn't bring the hobgoblin running, but only Nurse Chapel came. Fortunately, she came with a hypo spray, so his world became a much better place.
"You're looking much better this morning, doctor. How do you feel?"
"Like I've been cut open. What-?"
"Dr. Sayers will explain it all to you when she comes n. And I heard Spock say that Dr. O'Hara was bringing Joanna after breakfast."
"Spock. He stayed—"
"All night," she confirmed his suspicion, "I finally sent him to eat something. I'm sure he'll be back as soon as he's done. Do you feel like trying to eat anything?"
Leonard shook his head. The thought of food turned his stomach. His attention was caught by the incubator in the corner. His children. Grimacing, he pushed himself to a sitting position, and then swung his legs out of the bed.
"Doctor, you really shouldn't be moving around."
He waved her off as he slowly stood, and inched his way over. They were just laying there, the living proof that the past seven months weren't some strange nightmare. Two lives that he was now responsible for. Good God.
"Daddy!"
He looked up as Joanna launched herself at him. He couldn't bend down to catch her, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders while she clung to his waist. He could feel tears soaking through his hospital gown. He'd have to get some scrubs; he wasn't about to stay in this damned gown.
"I do not believe you are meant to be walking around, ashayam."
Damn. Spock had replaced Scarlett in the doorway, and he looked ready to bodily remove Leonard back to the bed.
"I can get back there on my own, damn it!"
The fact that he nearly fell on the way back to the bed belied that statement, and he glared at the Vulcan, whose eyebrow was raised in amusement.
"I have heard that doctors make the worst patients. It would appear that you are no exception, Leonard."
"Oh, shut up."
