Chapter 11

Jim paced the floor, it was unsettling to know that, from his universe or not, he was sending Spock down to that planet with so few odds of survival. There wasn't another choice, but he always felt this way when he put Spock in danger. The quickened heartbeat, the anxiety clawing at him that he could never let out because he was the captain, and the captain had to be perfect. Always. Jim resisted the urge to punch the wall.

He'd sent Spock into worse. He knew that. And in fact, if they didn't complete their mission, Sarek and female Spock would be the only ones to survive. But he knew that it wouldn't matter to Spock. That there would be a part of her that would wish she had gone down with her captain. She would live, eat, sleep, breath, but that would be it. That thing that made her Spock, that light in her, that beauty, would be put out. She would never be the same person gain.

And it would be his fault. Jim strode down to med bay. There was nothing he could do on the bridge, and Bones should be able to distract him.

When he reached entered the room, he saw Spock, his Spock, standing there, seemingly waiting for something.

"What're you doing here, Spock?"

Spock turned (he'd almost definitely heard Jim come in, but sometimes he just pretended he didn't to make his human shipmates more comfortable), and assumed his standard military official stance.

"Captain. I was investigating the medical reports from our counterparts. Dr McCoy has gone to retrieve some of the tests from the files room."

"I see. Well… do you think they'll make it down there?" He already knew Spock's response, but he always asked, and the consistency, the steadiness, never failed to calm him; steady in the swirling maelstrom that was so often his life.

"Captain, it would be illogical to have a personal opinion on the matter."

Just then Bones walked in, datapads in his arms, and mumbling grumpily under his breath, in some ways as wonderfully consistent as Spock. But in a different way, one that was somehow had a deeper feeling. Jim couldn't quite describe how each of his best friends made him feel, but Bones had more of a earthy deep feeling in his consistency. It was reliable, familiar, and made him feel like there was more to life than the smooth metal of space. He was safe somehow, someone Jim could break down to; cry to and know that everything would be the same when he felt better. Someone who knew him and his flaws and cared for him anyway.

Spock was something smooth and cool, a breeze or a flowing river running over him, soothing him bringing him into a calm focus where he could think clearly. It was a beautiful feeling calm and consistent. It was the anchor he'd look to so many times on the bridge whenever he felt unsure or didn't know quite what to do. Spock would look at him, radiating quiet confidence, letting Jim know that no matter what Spock would follow his captain, that he always believed in him, that he knew that Jim was going to make the right choice, whether it worked out or not.

They were each so critical and he needed them so much. Opposing yet same; fire and water, but then again, it was said together fire and water would bring about the end of the world. And when they did work together there was no stopping them.

Wondering where all of that had come from, Jim managed to come back to reality to the sound of Bones's voice.

"-and of course with all that stinking physiology I didn't have nearly enough time to conduct the necessary tests, and now she's running willy nilly all over that stinking planet, and I really don't know why people think I have such a redundant position! I get no respect around here! Chief Medical Officer! It means something! And there are things I have to do that come with the job! But no one around here believes that, and it's all "make a miracle cure" this, and "chase your captain and first officer around the ship for a stinking physical" that! I don't know how anyone expects me to do my job in this position…"

"Maybe we just think you're really special, Bones." Jim grinned.

"Fine excuse for demanding the impossible of a man all the time." McCoy muttered darkly, crossing his arms. "I'm a doctor not a magician! I can't be expected to be perfect all the time!"

"Indeed, doctor, I do not expect you to be perfect any of the time." Spock interjected.

"Why you insufferable green blooded pointy eared good for nothing hobgoblin!" Bones raged, as Jim snorted. Bones's yelling and Spock's measured responses grew into a pleasant, familiar, background and everything seemed to be just right. Everything would be fine, he just knew it.

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Everything was going terribly. Ms Spock was managing to keep going, but she was stumbling, and the slippery puddles weren't helping any. Several time Sarek had been forced to reach out and steady her, and once he'd even sensed her mind, a sure sign that she was losing control.

It was… disconcerting. And it made him think. Sarek had never approved of Spock's decision to join Starfleet. It was not the Vulcan way. Spock's leaving reflected badly on humans, and on Amanda in particular. It was, in Sarek's opinion, an illogical and somewhat self centered, with no justifiable reasons behind it. At least this was what he had thought at first. It was what he had believed as Spock had left Vulcan, and betrayed thousands of years of Vulcan teaching.

How could Spock believe his own beliefs to be superior to so many generations of Vulcan teachers, scholars… everyone. Many of them being more intelligent and talented than Spock himself. This was in no way an insult (for one thing it was a statement of fact) and also, Spock was obviously not the perfect Vulcan, and as the Human saying went, there was always someone better. And there had been better Vulcans in the past than Spock. It was illogical of Spock to believe himself above all of them.

So he had terminated their father son relationship. He had refrained from speaking to Spock, associating with Spock, or even keeping himself appraised on Spock's condition, despite all of Amanda's best efforts to reunite them.

Although… it was impossible not to hear of Spock. It wasn't long before Spock's scientific discoveries, inventions, and overall abilities made Spock's name commonplace among intellectuals. Sarek wondered why this had not happened at all on Vulcan. It probably did not matter. Then Spock had been assigned to the Enterprise under Captain Christopher Pike. This was… surprising. And also highly displeasing that Spock would optionally be a crew member of a starship.

Despite everything Starfleet said about promoting peace, starships were also weapons of war and violence. They fought Klingon and Romulan vessels; they fought with newly discovered hostile alien races. They were often instruments of death. How could Spock even consider taking part in something like this? It was so… not Vulcan. So wrong and different that Sarek could not even begin to understand it, or want to.

Then he was placed under the Command of James T Kirk. Sarek still did not understand. Nor did he want to.

And yet… somewhere along the way… somewhere along the inventions and discoveries, the recognition, and most of all the reports of lives saved… he had become… proud perhaps? In Spock. He would never say it of course; Amanda was right: he was stubborn. He was aware of this. It was part of what made him a good ambassador. But he was proud. Spock had succeeded, and had bettered and saved lives in so many ways. This was… good, and what Sarek aspired to do as an ambassador. So… he was proud of Spock.

He had ignored it of course. It was an irrelevant emotion. But… here. Seeing this Spock… equally rebellious obviously… struggling on, possibly dying…

He's always known Spock could die. That was obvious: he was aboard a starship. However… it had never been truly real before. And that was illogical. Nothing about his current situation changed anything about the past at all. However… it seemed to be giving him… a revelation. Because Spock was so weak, limping along, and… she could die. Spock could die. Sarek's own son.

He could die. And Sarek wondered what his son thought of him. They obviously weren't on good terms. But… did Spock think Sarek ashamed of him? That had been true at first. It had been difficult to see beyond the rebellion, the apparent illogicality… but… he wasn't anymore. Not when Spock had accomplished more in Starfleet than could be expected on Vulcan.

Did Spock think Sarek had rejected him completely? Did he think that Sarek no longer even thought of Spock as his son, that Sarek had rejected Spock so utterly that he no longer cared for him at all? And Vulcans did care about their families; in fact that had very strong familial bonds that were incredibly painful to break. Something had kept Sarek from breaking his bond with Spock. It was completely closed off, truebut Sarek hadn't rejected him. But how could Sarek defy Vulcan tradition? No matter what he was first and foremost a Vulcan. Everything else was second to that. And it was not the Vulcan way to hold emotional attachments to someone who had defied the Vulcan way as Spock had. But… Sarek had not rejected him.

Did Spock think Sarek did not worry over him? Did he think that when he head the reports of Spock being so badly damaged, often to the extent that he was in danger of death of complete debilitation that Sarek had no response? Because when Sarek heard such things it was as though a cold hand gripped his heart.

Did Spock think everything was gone because he had left? That Sarek was not worried for his safety? That Sarek had cast Spock aside like something disposable, replaceable?

It made him wonder. And it made him wonder how much the restraints of his pride, the restraints of the Vulcan Way were really worth. It would not take long to tell… only a few sentences and so much would be set right, with no need for a repeat performance. It truly made him wonder...