A/N: From here on out there's really no stopping this train so I'm just going to give it to you all at once. Thank you for being so patient with me and thanks for all your love and support. It meant the world to me. Thank you once again. And now, for the tumultuous end of The Road To Hell.


On the Proclamation, Jim sat quietly, watching the stars streak by at warp. Sarek sat across from him facing him, watching him with intent dark eyes.

Sarek shifted in his seat and laid his book down in his lap. "Son, are you well?" Jim looked over listlessly and then nodded. "Is there anything I can do for you, child?"

Jim tore his eyes away again and sighed. "Father, why don't you hate me? Why are you being so nice to me? I just broke your son's heart. You should be aiming a phaser at me, or neck-pinching me, or something evil."

Sarek gave a deep chuckle, and Jim's eyes opened wide. "Child, drop the melodrama. You are human. I believe you when you say this is a 'break' and not a permanent separation. My wife once told me she wished to return to Earth alone for a period, to 'recharge her batteries' as she put it. I understand the necessity of taking a separate vacation from one's spouse. I cannot fault you for your human nature."

"Do you think you can help me, Father? Can you help make me a better bondmate for Spock, and a better person in general? You and the Lady Amanda are the ones who raised Spock. If you can do it for him, can you do it for me?" Jim was pleading at the end.

Sarek gave Jim an odd look. "I do not comprehend the tactics for such an endeavor with a nearly forty year old human. I raised Spock from birth. The two are not the same; they are not even similar."

Jim slumped. "I know. You're right."

"That is not to say I am unable to assist you whatsoever. I have been in contact with the Masters at Tovula and they have agreed to take you on as a student for a period, to better train your mind." Sarek raised an eyebrow. "Your thoughts are chaotic and unstructured, even more so than in an average human. I believe you may be suffering a chemical imbalance. The healer will discover this and assist you in your recovery."

Jim barked a harsh laugh. "You'll help me because you think I'm nuts? Jeez, thanks Father. Way to lighten my mood."

Sarek shook his head. "Have you ever heard of the condition manic depression?"

Now Jim's jaw dropped. "You think I'm bipolar?"

"It is rare, but entirely possible. I have not ever melded with you personally, and I am not a healer, so I would not know. However, your behavior strongly suggests such a possibility."

Jim scooted up in his seat. "And if I am?"

"A healer will be brought in and the treatment will be effected. Unless you would decline …."

"No," Jim laughed, "if I need it I'll agree to it. You really think that's what's been bugging me? Huh. Why wouldn't Spock have noticed?"

"What is the the humans say? 'Too close to the tree'?"

Jim laughed again. "Can't see the forest for the trees. Gotcha." Jim looked out the portal again. "I wonder what Spock's doing right now?"

"As it is 0247 Pacific Time, most likely he is asleep, as you should be, James. Rest. Your answers will not appear overnight without work. We begin tomorrow."


Spock woke and wondered why his alarm hadn't sounded before his mind told him it was Saturday. He rolled over to speak to his husband and the bed was cold and empty. It struck Spock all over – Jim was gone.

The next thing that occurred to him was that he smelled food downstairs. He got up and took an abbreviated shower (no one to converse with) and dressed, heading down to the kitchen.

David was sitting there with a plate of eggs and something that looked vaguely like sand, and a glass of orange juice.

"Good morning, Father. How did you sleep?"

"What is it your father says? 'Like the dead'."

David chuckled. "Okay, so you're at peace with what's happening?"

Spock paused and sipped at the orange juice. "I would not go quite that far. I have left the stage of denial and am more than likely in the process of bargaining."

"Five stages of grief," David replied knowingly. "I guess if I was in that model I'd still be in denial. Or anger. I could totally be in anger. I am pretty pissed at you two."

Spock raised a hand and touched his chest. "For what reason are you displeased with me?"

David turned the chair around backwards and raised his foot, then paused, put the foot back down, reversed the chair again, and sat down primly.

"Well, you're not entirely blameless in this, Father. You've been riding Dad mercilessly ever since I knew you. You've gotten worse in the past year. There are times you're really unforgiving, like your birthday and … um … Nero and stuff. Then sometimes you're playful and fun to be around. It's like you loosen up for a bit. But I never take it for granted because I know it's going to end soon."

Spock closed his eyes for a moment. David's honest appraisal of his behavior left him ashamed and regretful. I 'get it' now, Jim, he sent out, knowing it would never reach its destination.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked before he drank some more juice.

David shrugged and went to the replicator for his usual bowl of cereal. "Not all the time, just when you're really harsh, or really loose. Like when we're playing soccer, you're so relaxed and happy. Or when Dad decides to have a drink, just one drink, and you don't speak to him for the rest of the night. Then it's blatant."

"But Dad's not innocent either, Father. He goes hot, he goes cold, and you never know which direction the wind is blowing in casa Kirk. He can come at you out of nowhere and be a real bear, or he can break down in tears and leave you wondering what it was you said. You've been walking on eggshells around him for over a decade, and we're lucky you haven't snapped from the pressure."

"Where are you getting this wisdom from, David? It sounds vaguely familiar. Is it a text?"

David grinned. "Nope. Grandfather. When Dad didn't call this morning I called him and he talked with me for a while. By the way, whoops, I forgot the time difference. He wasn't mad, though. He wanted to make sure I was okay and he wanted me to stay in touch if I went to Mom's. I told him I'm not going and he kinda seemed relieved. But I can never tell. What a poker face."

"Did you wake my father?"

"No, he was awake. He said Dad wasn't resting too well after the trip but not to worry because a healer was with him at that very moment."

"A healer? Is he unwell?"

David looked away for a moment before meeting his stepfather's eyes. "We need to talk."

Spock's heart stuttered in his chest. "Are you imparting devastating news? Should I be concerned for my mate?" He paled. "Is Jim dying?"

"NO." David shook his head rapidly. "No, Dad's going to live forever. Father, did you ever notice anything unusual when you melded with Dad?"

Spock considered the question. "Define 'unusual'. Your father's mind is most sincerely one of a kind and I have never encountered a similar psyche in my years. It has a … flavor? … that is most peculiar. It most certainly impacts me greatly whenever I am in direct contact with his mind. But out of the ordinary such as to cause great concern? Not particularly."

David frowned and said, "Grandfather thinks Dad's crazy."

"My father would not have used that vernacular. What were his exact words?"

"He believes Dad has bipolar disorder and he's been untreated but passing his psych evals sheerly on his acting skills. The huge ups and downs and the patterns? It makes sense, Father, don't shake your head at me."

Spock stopped but continued to frown. "I would have known."

"Grandfather says you can't see the forest for the trees. And that's an exact quote."