For the numerous days that follow, the Vulcan lay there, with slowed heartbeat and shallow breaths. The journey before him may be lengthy, but for the time being, he is peaceful in his current state, bereft of pain. The Lieutenant, also, has a journey to embark upon. Having birthed her beloved child well before the expected date, she is in much need of her own healing, and the infant closely watched and tended to with great care.
The child, to aid in her father's recovery, is placed upon his chest at semi-regular intervals, mostly one or two times daily; his form remains virtually unclad, sans for the blankets to keep him warm. All of this contact, this vital bonding, is done whilst the mother rests.
To the easement of all those within the ward, his heart rate begins to rise. Slowly and steadily, it creeps toward a more normal rhythm. At this small yet important achievement, the medicos - and the Lieutenant herself - all share a blithe smile between them. Perhaps, the Vulcan's own newborn child had a hand in this development, given how she had saved him from death itself.
The bond of a father and his daughter is indeed a wondrous thing. This is particularly true when the father is a Vulcan.
Along with the passing of time, his body heals, the process itself gradual as the rise to his heart's rhythm. It is with time, and his daughter's contact, that he soon begins to gather strength, slowly returning to its former state. And, during this frame, the infant's mother is released from her bed in the Medbay, her own healing completed. Her child, however, will remain in her pod within the ward, for the remainder of her development. Despite all going well with the baby, there are still some aspects that need tending to. With the development of her tiny form, she will continue to aid in the healing of her father.
It is with that regular contact that his eyes eventually begin to flicker open, and tired irises are unveiled to the ward's bright sterile ambience. His head does not shift downwards to glance at the child upon his chest, but an arm is feebly brought around to cup a hand at the infant's rump in a tender embrace. This touch brings with it a small inhale from him, a sliver of emotion in a short breath.
His child, his precious daughter, had saved him. Perhaps, not entirely on her own, however; but it was she who had been the tether to which he had clung. Barely removed from the womb, she had already achieved so much.
His eidetic memory notwithstanding, this is a part of his life that will eternally remain within the recesses of his mind, and will be a tale to recite when the child is of appropriate age. A tale of how she saved his life.
ooo
As the days morph into weeks, the child is entirely removed from her pod, having spent the majority of her time inside, sans the feeding and bonding times of course. Sufficiently heftier than before, and with one final health check, she is discharged from the ward, to go with her mother to the warmth of their quarters. Three additional days pass, during which the mother and child visit the Vulcan, and he too is freed from the ward's confines. His journey of healing at last nearing its end, he can now properly tend to his child.
At last, the family is united.
There is one particular night, entailing a moment that will forever live on in Uhura's memory. In the embrace of deep slumber, she awakes to the sound of her crying infant. Soon rising from her placement upon the bed, she discovers Spock's absence, with bare sheets left on his side. Not yet entirely awoken, she drowsily makes the relatively brief journey across the room. Within moments, she sights him, stood upright in his tall frame. His eyes are veiled and a lip is curled as he cradles the tiny form in his arms. From his throat, there is a soft thrum, a gentle tune which soon renders the child to peace. A quiet smile is made by her at the scene, in its sweet serenity.
Sometimes, all that is needed for a child's balm is a father's gentle embrace.
END