Author's Note: Please review!! ok, now that thats over, I thought I would skip ahead a few years, and so, this part takes place right after Journey to Babel. lemme know what you think.

"He has a friend" had been her only thought when she saw the way her son interacted with Kirk.
Somehow that made her trembling stop, the tremors that had been vibrating within her for years from worry for her son. He had always resided in the dark and unwanted corners of loneliness.

Sarek had left her once again with captain Kirk, returning to his cabin to rest. Little had changed between father and son, except now they spoke

But Amanda saw no difference, there was still a titanium iceberg between them that kept them apart. Sarek had such intense passion, Spock was so afraid. She felt no relief at the fact that they had managed to speak to each other again, it changed very little, certainly not the past. Spock had been a child; children have memories that outlive those of elephants. Children keep them in their eyes until they meet the world, and then they hide them their voices so carefully that only their mother's can hear them saying, "he was not there, I often felt he had no wish to be near me at all." She remembers Spock's eyes, his silence and posture. She remembers the pressure that came down upon him when Sarek was near, her husband's possessiveness taking her away from him, again and again. Poor abandoned child. She found herself thinking that life was full of abandonment, and harshness and the dullness that comes from getting what you want. "But no", she scolded herself, "he has a friend, he is alright, he has this James man, he is happy."

She saw them together when she went with Sarek for dinner. They were huddled in a corner, Kirk was laughing, his ever-human posture stretched back and open, vulnerable. Spock's shoulders were no longer at his ears, he looked, though pale (He had not regained full blood levels), relaxed, content. Amanda had not known she was holding breath captive until it rushed from her, and she sighed.

Sarek watched her watch his son. Her son. He was tired, but he supposed that compared to being dead, fatigue was very little of a nuisance. His son, it appeared, had a friend in his captain. Amanda was relieved. He could not imagine the trials of human motherhood, all the worry and energy that is put into children, the ache she felt when he left, he had not acknowledged it in words, but he had watched her, felt her loss, ignored his own. His son was indeed remarkable. A remarkable mind, excellent finesse, far better logic than anyone thought he would achieve. Yes, his son was remarkable. And yet, try as he might, Sarek could not rid himself of the coldness, the neutrality he felt towards his son. He wanted very much to love him, wanted very much, for once, say, "you honor me" or "you have done well, achieved much", but he could not. So when he met Spock's eye from across the room, he simply nodded, and felt within an anger, the gesture had been stiff and useless. Amanda was frustrated with him, he knew. He must find away to express, to flow in and out of the presence of his son without his muscles tightening and his passions overtaking him. He must learn to change.

Spock met his father's gaze, felt its ice, but dared to double back and try again. Sarek had his person turned, he could only see the sliver of his eye and the curve of his back. But it was enough, and Spock realized, as he recognized his father's anger at himself for his lack of expression, that this was not a dark and dreary place, there was no waiting, he had family, he had love. Turning back to Kirk, he nodded,

"Yes, I fear I must agree that I have very little trust in medical officer's other than our ever emotional Dr. McCoy." And James laughed, and Spock, very carefully, very slowly, let a tiny smile grace the eyes of his captain."