A/N: Hello again! This is a longer update so I hope you all like it; also, it gets a bit M-themed near the end-nothing overt but definitely suggestive. If that's not your cup of tea then stop reading when Nyota wakes up. Hope that's fair warning to you all. Bye!
Chapter 13
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.169, 1305 hours. "Bullshit!"
"Don't believe me? Fine, go hear it straight from the horse's mouth," Bones said as he gestured out at the bridge.
Jim looked around and saw Spock just resuming his station. Marks was seated at the comm. panel which meant that Uhura was in the lab, even though she'd been with them on the bridge before the lunch break.
If they were back together he'd have known; after all, they'd been working side-by-side all morning. Surely he would've seen something, right? Better still they'd have told him. They were his friends, of course they'd have told him.
He called Spock over to where Bones had stopped him for an impromptu confab. The Vulcan promptly stood and made his way over, hands clasped behind his back and face expressionless as always. "Yes, Captain?"
"Mr. Spock, anything you care to tell me?"
His First looked from the Doctor to him and back again without so much as blinking; meanwhile Bones had his arms folded across his chest and struggled to suppress a smile, clearly enjoying Jim's discomfort. "Clarify."
He rolled his eyes. "Anything you care to tell me about this morning?"
Spock quirked his head. "Doctor McCoy cleared me for duty 5.14 hours ago. Aside from a scar 20.9 centimeters long along the left side of my hand I am fully recovered from Friday's incident."
That's it, Bones had to be teasing him; or maybe he was trying to trick him into inadvertently revealing the truth to Spock. He hadn't liked Uhura's plan from the beginning and only got more vocal in his opposition as time wore on. Truth be told Jim was beginning to regret his part in the deceit too but he'd given her his word. If Bones was trying to get him to spill the beans to Spock he'd be sorely disappointed. "Anything else you'd care to tell me?"
The Commander took a moment to consider and replied, "I have discovered that the Class D nebula that we are approaching is…"
"Oh for crying out loud!" If he had to hear one more word on that damn nebula he was going to scream. Kirk pulled out his communicator and hailed the comm. lab. "Bridge to Uhura."
"Uhura here."
"Mind coming up here for a minute?"
She acknowledged and the three men moved as one toward the turbolift. Bones could barely keep the snarky smirk off his face.
When the doors opened Uhura started at the sight of them all lined up waiting for her. "Anything you wish to tell us, Lieutenant?" He made a show of looking from her to Spock and back again and watched the small happy smile cross her face.
So it was true.
"Told you so," McCoy smugly chimed in.
"Bullshit!" All eyes on the bridge were on them now but Jim didn't care. He was pissed. "How long has this been going on?"
"If I am to infer your meaning correctly, then to answer your question the Lieutenant and I have been bonded for exactly 1.19 years…"
Jim's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "How long has he known about the—"
"…furthermore I was made aware of the fact that we are bonded 61 hours and 8.33 minutes ago."
"Sixty hours…then that means…and you two…all weekend?" He was no longer pissed; he was furious.
"Yes," Uhura replied.
"Are you kidding me?"
"Captain…"
"Jim, calm down."
Oh no, McCoy was not pulling that doctor crap on him, not now. He jerked away from the hand on his shoulder. "No, I will NOT calm down! After everything they put me through…!"
"Captain…" Spock tried again.
"Ok kids." Bones ushered them all toward the conference room before they could make a bigger spectacle of themselves. "Why don't we move this show along somewhere more private? Uh, Sulu…?" He gestured toward the command chair.
The pilot nodded. "Got it."
He waited until the door closed behind all four of them to really let into Spock and Nyota. He'd been letdown by plenty of people in his life before but this time—this time he hadn't been expecting it from them of all people and he was going to let them have it.
"After everything that's happened these last few months you couldn't even take 2 seconds to tell me that you're back together? Do you have any idea what this has done to the crew? To me? Do you?" The only response he got was when Uhura averted her eyes but that one gesture was telling enough. "Then why the hell didn't either of you say anything?"
"Your highly emotional response is incongruent with the situation at hand and is, perhaps, indicative of why my wife and I did not immediately inform you of our reunion. Also, as this is a private matter I find…"
Seriously? "Private? Your argument is that all this was PRIVATE? Hell, Spock, who do you think helped Uhura keep this secret for so long? Do you really think she redacted all the files about you two by herself? What about the crew, you think she put the blanket gag order out and they all just obeyed her? And even if she did manage to do all that do you really think I'd just let her? Do you even…"
"Captain, if I may ask, why—given your current hysteria on the matter—did you agree to follow her on this particular course of action if it was so abhorrent to you?"
That quieted Kirk's indignant rage, if only for a minute. "I…well I…" he spluttered.
Nyota slipped her hand in his the moment the door was shut.
"We should have told him when we first reported for duty…"
"Our reunion was not of his immediate concern."
The Captain's screeching interrupted their private communication. "After everything that's happened these last few months you couldn't even take 2 seconds to tell me that you're back together? Do you have any idea what this has done to the crew? To me? Do you?" Nyota looked away but said nothing as his eyes remained fixed on the viewport beyond the Captain's shoulder. "Then why the hell didn't either of you say anything?"
Spock saw a chance to say what was uppermost on his mind. "Your highly emotional response is incongruent with the situation at hand and is, perhaps, indicative of why my wife and I did not immediately inform you of our reunion. Also, as this is a private matter I find…"
The man started screeching loudly and he had to resist the urge to cover his ears. "Private? Your argument is that all this was PRIVATE? Hell, Spock, who do you think helped Uhura keep this secret for so long? Do you really think she redacted all the files about you two by herself? What about the crew, you think she put the blanket gag order out and they all just obeyed her? And even if she did manage to do all that do you really think I'd just let her? Do you even…"
He could not understand why the Captain was so upset. This was, as he had explained, a private matter between himself and his adun'a. "Captain, if I may ask, why—given your current hysteria on the matter—did you agree to follow her on this particular course of action if it was so abhorrent to you?"
He spluttered. "I…well I…my knowing…things…and knowing you like I do—like we do," the Captain amended, "We did it 'cause we thought it was what was best for you."
Nyota merely kept her gaze on the floor.
Spock studied his superior. The Captain Kirk of his brief association had never looked so uncertain of himself before and it was a startling contrast from the self-assured leader he had worked with for the last 3.56 months. Perhaps there was more going on here than met the eye and the longer he contemplated what that may be the more reasonable his request sounded. "Captain."
The man's shoulders shrugged in defeat. "What?"
"If you would permit me, I would like to initiate a mind meld with you."
She didn't know what to think. Jim was acting like a child—and yet his argument had merit. He'd helped her, helped them. He'd broken with protocol, gone against regs, and they hadn't even bothered to tell him that the situation had been resolved. He did deserve to hear the truth from them instead of second-hand.
And the look he suddenly shot her made her feel ten times worse than before.
She kept looking down at a small scuff mark on the floor, wondering if she would ever rid herself of all this guilt.
"Captain." Spock looked at Jim like he had a plan; Nyota wasn't sure she was going to like it.
"What?"
"If you would permit me, I would like to initiate a mind meld with you."
Oh. Oh boy. Instantly she leapt to Spock's defense.
"You don't have to do this," she told him through the surface bond. "He'll get over it soon…"
"The Captain is upset and I need to understand why. This is the most sound and expedient course of action given that he remembers the last 3.34 years of our acquaintanceship and I do not."
She felt his deep-seeded curiosity over the enigma that was James T. Kirk and determined that this wasn't just a move to placate him; he genuinely wanted to understand Jim better. Reluctantly she let go of his hand.
Oh no, not the head voo-doo hooey; not on his watch. "Jim…" he warned, his voice gruff and low.
But the kid brushed him off. "No, Bones, it's alright. It's not like I haven't done this before." True enough but still that didn't mean he had to like it. Not only was his psyche at stake but so was Spock's. Who knew what a meld with Jim might do to the hobgoblin's head? Hadn't the Vulcan's mind already been messed with enough?
Len watched Spock step away from his wife and settle down in a chair to prepare. Glancing at the Captain he couldn't tell if the kid was excited or nervous—probably a fair bit of both—as he took his seat. Whatever the case, McCoy kept his medkit handy and secretly monitored both of their vitals with his tricorder. All too soon for his liking they were ready to begin.
"My mind to your mind…my thoughts to your thoughts…"
For a highly emotional being he quickly discovered that Captain Kirk had a remarkably disciplined mind. That did not stop his thoughts from veering off-course in numerous directions but the movement was not random; on the contrary it was calculated in a way that simply was not Vulcan. The Captain was content to sit back and watch as Spock acclimated himself to his surroundings—that is until he attempted to access a corridor sealed off by a large pneumatic door.
"No," Kirk ordered from the opposite side of the mental plane. "Not there. Nothing back there concerns you"
Spock nodded and backed away, hands clasped behind his back. "Of course, Captain. Where do you suggest we begin?"
"At the beginning, of course."
An eyebrow shot up; his speech reminded him of a character from one of his mother's favorite stories, Alice in Wonderland. Before he could question the comparison or contemplate the matter further the scenery swirled behind them and soon Spock found himself in front of an honor court at the Academy. The assembly was dispersing and he watched Kirk and McCoy study him as he exited quickly through a side door.
"Who was that pointy-eared bastard?"
"I don't know," memory-McCoy answered as he led the Captain away, "But I like him."
Those simple statements contradicted everything Spock thought he knew about both men. "What is the meaning of this?"
A humorless chuckle escaped Kirk's lips. "This is the first time we met. Officially."
"We met at an honor court?"
"Yep. You brought me up on charges of 'academic insubordination' for beating the Kobayashi Maru."
Both eyebrows now rose into his hairline. "You mean to say that you cheated on the simulation?"
Kirk had the good grace to look abashed even as he lied.
The next scene was a view of the Enterprise bridge. The command crew was gathered around Captain Kirk, who was wearing an odd black uniform and mottled with bruises. Spock entered and all eyes turned to him.
"Doctor, Mr. Chekov is correct. I can confirm his telemetry. If Mr. Sulu is able to maneuver us into position I can beam aboard Nero's ship, steal back the black hole device and, if possible, bring back Captain Pike."
"I won't allow you to do that, Mr. Spock," the memory-Captain replied.
"Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry. Our cultural similarities will make it easier for me to access the ship's computer to locate the device." He paused and took a deep breath. "Also, my mother was human, which makes Earth the only home I have left."
This was the day Vulcan was destroyed—the day his mother died. Spock felt his blood boil at the injustice of it all…
"Easy, Spock," the Captain urged, carefully placing a hand on his arm. "Just breathe—watch and breathe."
They both watched as the memory-Captain considered his request a moment before answering. "Then I'm coming with you."
"I would cite regulation but I know you will simply ignore it."
Past-Kirk grinned in amusement, much like the man standing beside him was also doing. He approached Spock and said, "See? We are getting to know each other," then clapped him hard on the shoulder.
This meld was far from edifying; in fact it was terribly confusing. "I do not understand…"
The Captain stopped him short as the scene faded away. "Just keep watching."
Next they were standing in the corridor on Deck 9 just outside of his personal quarters. The Captain jogged into view with a box under one arm, whistling as he approached. He opted to knock on the door instead of pressing the chime and rocked on the balls of his feet as he waited.
Spock answered, the heat of his quarters blasting memory-Kirk in the face; but the man's smile never faded. "Care for a game of 3-D chess, Mr. Spock?"
"I am a grand master," he replied coolly.
Instead of thwarting his efforts the Captain proceeded to stride into his quarters uninvited. "Alright! Finally, a worthy opponent!"
"We play chess," Spock stated as the doors closed on their past counterparts.
"Yes." If he was reading the Captain correctly—and he believed that he was—then the man was showing signs of exasperation.
"I fail to see how this is relevant to the matter at hand."
"All in good time, Mr. Spock."
Soon Spock found himself standing over the Captain, staring down at the injured man as he lay in a field of purple wheat swaying gently in the breeze. He had a wide hole in his side that was spurting thick jets of red blood. A small, furry, reddish-purple figure lay on the ground a few meters away either dead or unconscious, he could not be certain. His memory-self kneeled beside the injured man and kept pressure on the wound.
"Benta III," the Captain answered to his unspoken question. "Not one of our better missions."
The rest of the away team was running across the field at a dead sprint to reach them but the Captain was losing a lot of blood. Before Spock could question him further his memory-self spoke. "You should not have jumped in front of the projectile." Only he could detect the note of deep concern in the admonishment.
"He was aiming at you, Spock," the sick man rasped. "Would've gone right through your heart."
"Negative, Captain, as my heart is located in the same region as your spleen."
Memory-Kirk coughed and blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. "Oh," he managed between gasps. "Good to know. Future reference and all." He groaned and more blood gurgled up in the back of his throat.
Spock watched his counterpart's eyes narrow as he stared hard into his superior's face. "Sir, you must cease engaging in this reckless behavior. As Captain of the Enterprise you are not expendable."
Anger fueled by sheer adrenaline propelled the injured Captain into a semi-upright position and he grabbed Spock's collar. "And neither are you!"
Slowly he began to understand.
Now he stood in the sitting room of a small dwelling, smoothing down the front of his formal robes. The Captain knocked on the door frame and entered, tugging at the collar of his dress uniform. "Your father sent me to get you. He says it's time." Spock nodded and they exited together, stepping out of the house and seeing Dr. McCoy waiting on the edge of the property also appareled in his dress uniform.
"This is your…"
"My bonding, yes," Spock answered for him. "I see."
"Cap—Jim," his memory-self said hesitantly. The Captain paused mid-stride. "I appreciate your presence here today. Yours and Leonard's."
He saw the Captain flush. "There's no need to thank us—"
"I believe that in terms of Earth customs you would both be considered my 'best men'."
"Why…" the thought trailed off as Spock stuck a hand out to shake. Surprised, the Captain reached forward and shook. "It's an honor, Spock." He withdrew and turned, meeting Leonard at the border to begin their trek across the desert.
The sickbay was dark and quiet. Jim looked over to see Uhura fast asleep, curled up on the bio-bed beside Spock. The Vulcan looked closely at his memory-self for any obvious signs of injury; there were none. He could only deduce that this trip was a result of his still-unexplained experiences on Anguillida. Spock longed to reach forward and reassure Nyota that all would end well—she looked so sad and vulnerable even in her sleep and he hated to be the cause of her worry—but memory-Jim moved along, stepping right into the Doctor's office without disturbing either of them.
"Well?"
Dr. McCoy looked up from his desk and motioned for Kirk to take a seat. "I told you I'd call if there was any change."
"I know, but have you figured out what's wrong with him yet? It's been 4 days, Bones, why's he not waking up?"
The Doctor shot him a dirty look. "If I knew that don't you think he'd be awake by now ?"
Kirk stuck a finger in the physician's face. "Hey, don't take that tone with me, McCoy…!"
"You think I like this any better than you do? For cryin' out loud, Jim, that's our friend out there! I'm a doctor, I'm supposed to heal people and I can't even tell ya what's wrong with him let alone help him! You think you feel helpless? Well I have news for ya, kid, you're not alone!"
Memory-Kirk shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suitably chastised. "You're right. I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm just on edge."
"Then that makes two of us."
The pair of men stared at one another in anguish before the Captain rose to his feet. "Guess I'll just go say good night and get out of your hair." Halfway to the door he turned . "But if anything changes…"
"I know, I know, I'll call you…now scram. And if you ever tell him I said any of that…"
The Captain smirked as he stood in the doorway and made an X over his chest. "I won't, cross my heart. Your secret's safe with me." Spock watched him cross the sickbay toward his bed and lean over to whisper in his ear. Even as he sought to set his unconscious and injured self at ease the Captain's voice still trebled with sadness and fear. "I don't know what's wrong with you but just…just focus on getting better, ok? Don't worry, we'll take care of Uhura and the baby for you 'til you get back. Nothing's going to happen to them, I swear. Now hurry up and wake up, alright? That's an order."
Spock watched his Captain leave while they remained standing in the middle of the sickbay. "I believe I have seen enough."
The Captain pursed his lips and clasped his hands behind his back. "Alright. If you're sure."
As he withdrew there were a flurry of memory fragments that Kirk was unaware he was projecting; there was also an unfamiliar voice echoing across the connection, harkening to the sentiment Spock himself was only just beginning to understand.
"I am, and always shall, be your friend…"
"WHOA!" Jim's eyes went wide as the meld ended and he gripped the edge of the table with one hand, breathing hard. Len was by his side in an instant, monitoring his vitals while fishing around for a hypo in his kit.
"Dammit, Jim!"
"M'fine." The kid was anything but fine—he looked like he'd through the ringer and was on the verge of collapse.
He glared at him. "You're not fine, your heart rate's through the roof! And you!" He spun around to scan Spock who was uncharacteristically slumped in his chair, Nyota crouched behind him with her hands worriedly holding onto his shoulders. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, don't you have some way of regulatin' that? Your heart's beatin' too fast even for an overgrown elf!"
"My heart is currently beating 282 beats per minute, Doctor, and I am attempting to do just as you advise."
"Damn stubborn…head voo doo…never listen…if not for me…both be dead…" he muttered as he jammed the shot into Jim's neck. He flinched but calmed down, and Spock appeared to be following suit. "This is why you'll never get in my head, see?" he practically shouted at the hobgoblin. "I'm a vault, dammit—I'm a vault and I'm the only one with a key, nobody else in or out, you got that?"
"Understood, Doctor."
"Geez Bones, lighten up, we're fine. Just a little emotional transference, that's all," Jim replied still sounding a bit winded.
Just a little—what the hell? The kid made it sound like a walk in the park. Angrily he jammed the empty hypo back in his bag and ran a hand through his hair.
When would those two ever learn?
"What happened?" Nyota whispered in his ear in Vulkhansu. Spock attempted not to let expression cloud his face.
"You did not tell me that they were t'hy'la. The Captain is correct, he should have been informed of our circumstances much earlier."
She felt herself go flush. She knew they were all friends but he'd never let on just how much he cared for the other men. Reaching up he took a hold of her hand and showed her the years of bullying and torment he endured on Vulcan; then he contrasted that with his experiences with Kirk and McCoy that he'd just seen in Jim's head.
"The Captain has been most effusive in his previous demonstrations of friendship; perhaps that is why I originally thought him to be false. The Doctor has been more covert and has a most unusual way of displaying concern, one that I mistook for more ornery human behavior rather than friendship."
Nyota smiled. "That's just how he is."
Spock nodded. "I am beginning to understand that now. Forgive me, adun'a, but I must return to our quarters; I need to meditate. This information has left me rather unsettled."
She understood. "Of course. Go. I'll see you later."
He broke contact and with a nod towards McCoy and a rapidly-recovering Kirk, Spock up and quit the room.
"What the—hey!" Len shouted as the door closed behind him. "Where does he think he's going?"
"He needs to meditate," she answered.
"Meditate? He needs to get his ass down to medical, that's what he…"
"Bones." That one word silenced them both and left all eyes on Jim as he looked up questioningly into her face. "What does t'hy'la mean?"
Her mind was racing. Kirk didn't know any Vulkhansu, so what made him pick up on that word in particular? A look in his direction showed she was wrong as he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.
"What can I say, you've got a great tutorial system set-up…" Crap. Her own programming had betrayed her. Now Nyota began to wonder just how much he understood and how many other 'private' conversations he'd overheard. Jim brought both hands up in supplication. "I don't normally eavesdrop, I swear, and I didn't understand half of what you just said but I know that word means something and it's not one I've ever seen or heard before. So what does it mean?"
She drew herself up to her full height, sticking out her chin in an almost defiant posture. She didn't want to betray Spock's confidence but they deserved to know that he understood where there concern was coming from now and that he valued the relationship between them—more so than even she realized until just a few moments ago. "T'hy'la means brother, Jim. Blood brother. He thinks of you both as his brothers." And with that she followed her husband's example and walked straight out the door.
Damn. He knew that Spock felt things but the sheer force of all those emotions…how did manage to hold that back every day? How did he get out of bed, kiss Uhura good morning and not crack a smile? Share a joke with Chekov and not laugh? Frown as he struggled to translate Scotty's liberal form of Standard?
Better yet, how on Earth could he argue with Bones time after time and not scream at their friend's stubbornness?
Jim's head felt like it was going to explode just trying to think of it all.
He wouldn't let on to this fact with Bones around but this meld was harder on him than the previous one with Old Spock. It wasn't just the strength of Spock's emotions that undid him but the scope of them; right now he wanted to sprint out of the room, sob like a girl, scream until he was hoarse and laugh hysterically and all at the same time—and if it weren't for the hypo he'd probably be doing it too.
No wonder Spock had to meditate so much.
Still, he was glad he'd agreed to the meld, otherwise he might never have known how deep his Spock's feelings ran. Even before Anguillida there were times when he'd questioned their unconventional friendship despite what Elder Spock had told him. Jim loved Spock and Bones like brothers but there'd still be those rare days where his First seemed more Vulcan than friend, as if he just deigned to be in Jim's presence and barely tolerated him and his human whims. That's not to say Bones didn't have his moments too but those were different because Jim always knew they'd pass. Maybe it was a cultural thing, maybe it was a Spock thing, who knows, but sometimes he found himself questioning the depth of Spock's attachment to him and the rest of the crew.
He couldn't place Uhura in that category though because she was a woman apart.
"T'hy'la means brother, Jim. Blood brother. He thinks of you both as his brothers."
The door closed behind her and he watched the expressions play out on Bones' face; when rendered speechless his friend could gape like a fish out of water like no other. "Did you…?"
"Nope, not a clue."
"Huh."
Jim awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Still waters, I guess."
"Right." The quiet lasted a moment more before the Doctor seemed to recover. "You don't think he's gonna make us do the Vulcan equivalent of huggin' it out or somethin', do you? 'Cause I wasn't kiddin' about this bein' a vault," he said emphatically jamming a finger into his temple.
Jim let out a good loud snort, glad to know that things weren't going to change between them after all; trust Bones to be that paranoid about a group mind meld. "No, I don't think you have to worry about that. Spock's not exactly the 'hugging' type."
New Vulcan Colony, Stardate 2261.169, 0230 hours local time. Sarek turned swiftly away from the bedroom and plodded barefoot down the hall toward his study where the comm. unit chimed. He was learning to dread the late-night calls, especially when an Enterprise address scrolled across the screen. His son's predicament and recent turbulent emotional state had been uppermost on his mind for the last 4 days and he was concerned about what this call might mean.
No sooner had he sat down then Spock's image was in view. "Sa-mekh."
Blinking back at his son, Sarek scarcely dared to hope. "Sa-fu*."
For a long while neither spoke. The ground they were treading was fraught with snares and he knew Spock was calculating how best to proceed with the conversation—it was what he was doing as well. Before either could address the other the soft rustle of fabric and a quiet, decidedly feminine moan emanated from the room beyond Spock's shoulder.
Nyota.
So they had reconciled then. Good. Yet even as he felt relief on behalf of his son Sarek felt a new coil of tension spring up in the pit of his stomach. Was Spock calling to berate him for his part in the prolonged deception? Would he cut off what limited contact they still had with each other in a fit of anger?
"Nyota speaks of you often," Spock began, addressing the proverbial 'elephant' in the room. "Although I believe that she still censors much of her speech wherever you are concerned; however, on the occasions when you do come up in conversation she speaks very highly of you."
Only years of practice helped him halt the blush that crept into the tips of his ears. He was extremely fond of her too. "She is an uncommon woman."
"Yes," he replied, turning back in the direction of the bedroom for a quick glance. "She is."
Sarek sat back and waited. Too often he forced his will where Spock was concerned, attempting to make him more Vulcan than not to compensate for his own perceived weakness for having fallen in love with Amanda. In recent years he had learned from his errors and vowed never to make those same mistakes again lest he permanently lose his son. Tonight, Spock would lead.
"I find I am…conflicted," his son started again. This was a beginning—an uncomfortable one to be sure, but this entire conversation was going to prove as difficult as it was necessary for them to have. "My…" His voice trailed off and Spock abruptly closed his mouth, unwilling to proceed.
"Speak, Spock," he urged.
"That would not be prudent."
In the back of his mind Sarek felt a spike of irritation flare across the parental link. For the last 4 days the bond had crackled with clamped down anger and confusion, upsetting his own emotional state as much as it was upsetting his son's. The last time they had both been so raw had been the day Amanda died and again Sarek harkened back to the words he'd spoken on that fateful occasion in order to help their child. "What is necessary is never unwise, Spock. Speak."
An eyebrow rose as his son swept over his features with a curious gaze. Perhaps hoping for a full reconciliation was asking too much of Spock tonight, yet he would assist him however he could so that they might find some measure of harmony between them; it was the best possible outcome he could hope for at this juncture.
"Father, I cannot reconcile my attitude toward you with what I have intuited to be a much different relationship than that which existed before Vulcan was destroyed." And mother lost, his son finished with his eyes.
"I see." It was no different than what he had suspected, yet Sarek was unsure how to respond. They could not meld because of the distance, they could only sense one another's presence and he attempted to send Spock some peace. He wanted to show his son that he bore him no ill-will for speaking his mind—he freely deserved the censure that was years in coming.
He waited until she was asleep to make the call. Spock could not bear to be parted from her any longer than was necessary but this was a conversation he wanted to conduct privately, so he waited until Nyota was deep in her REM cycle to approach the comm. His father appeared tense as he answered—or rather, that was the emotion he ascribed to him as the call was connected. Tonight Spock sought to test the boundaries of their relationship and he did so with a single word.
"Sa-mekh." There was a pause and for a moment he wondered if nothing had really changed. Perhaps Sarek had been 'putting on an act' for Nyota all this time and he kept up the pretense that their relationship was mended simply to keep her happy—after all, his actions were not without precedence; it was exactly what they had done for his mother's sake after he went to the Academy.
"Sa-fu."
Spock had planned for this conversation—had even gone so far as to initiate it and had worked out all variable responses—and yet he was at a loss as to how to go forward. The situation was resolved when his adun'a shifted in her sleep audibly enough for his father to have heard. Sarek's head tilted a fraction to the left; yes, he was aware of her presence. Good. His wife was common ground, and truly it was her numerous, passing references to Sarek that prompted him to consider making the call in the first place.
"Nyota speaks of you often, although I believe that she still censors much of her speech wherever you are concerned; however, on the occasions when you do come up in conversation she speaks very highly of you."
Was that the light or were the tips of his father's ear looking a little green at the praise? "She is an uncommon woman."
"Yes, she is."
Not for the first time since dialing his father's line he wondered what Sarek was thinking. The bond was but a tendril—enough to let the other know they were there but not enough to overpower. Given his emotional upheaval in recent days Spock had kept the connection tamped down even more. It was irrational and yet he still harbored a great deal of anger toward his father and whenever Sarek's name came up those heated emotions tended to flare, no matter what was said about him. Tonight he tapped into the bond in an attempt to resolve these larger issues as well as uncover Sarek's current state of mind. All Spock could sense was his father's anxiety but he was unable to determine the root cause.
Perhaps if he addressed the real reason for his call they could both find some relief. "I find I am…conflicted. My…" Sarek stared back, impassive as ever, but his anxiety trilled up Spock's spine as he left the thought unfinished, almost too ashamed to speak.
"Speak, Spock."
This was getting too emotional, too out of hand. He was ill-equipped to confront his father, not this way and certainly not tonight. "That would not be prudent," he demurred.
"What is necessary is never unwise, Spock. Speak."
Why did that phrase sound so familiar? And, dare he think it, but did his father sound hopeful as he offered up this wisdom? A quick glance at Sarek revealed nothing but perhaps it would be best for them to take this opportunity to speak freely; there may not be many others in the future. "I cannot reconcile my attitude toward you with what I have intuited to be a much different relationship than that which existed before Vulcan was destroyed." And mother lost, he finished mentally.
"I see." Sarek propped his elbows up on the desk and steepled his fingers in deep thought. Eyes darting over to Spock they fixated on his face a moment before his whole posture changed and his hands fell back to the desk. "It is understandable…and it is also regrettable."
He stiffened in his seat. Was he hearing him correctly?
"Yes," Sarek said as if in answer to his unspoken question. "I have regrets." He finally looked up and caught his son's eye. "This new life," he gestured to the sparse room around him, "Has not only shown me the error of my ways but the senselessness of my past actions where you and your mother were concerned."
Spock did not believe him; indeed, he wished Nyota were awake now to pinch him only to prove that he was having a human moment and was dreaming. "Regrets are not logical," he felt compelled to remind him.
"No they are not," his father replied, "And yet they exist; just like you exist, against all odds; just like my feelings for your mother exist even after her death."
He must terminate the communication and attempt to reach a Healer on New Vulcan. Sarek was living alone and suffering from Bendii Syndrome* with no one around to recognize the early warning signs. The dark circles under his eyes, his gaunt face, the free emotional expression…he was wasting away and waxing philosophical right before his eyes. How had he missed this before? "You are not well. You do not know what you are saying. You need medical attention."
He was trying—he was trying so hard to give his son what he wanted, an honest discussion...and yet all Spock wanted to do was call in a Healer. His eyes flashed dangerously at the very idea.
"I am not ill. I merely speak the truth."
Sarek willed his rage away.
Tonight he wished he could be more like Amanda, so quick to forgive but more importantly so quick to forget. Past wrongs were easily forgotten by her and yet his eidetic memory troubled him nearly every moment of every day, either by remembering her in minute detail or recalling the injustices his son suffered due to his indifference. As it was impossible for him to forget he would use tonight to redress past wrongs.
"Your…anger…toward me is understandable, Spock. Too many times in your life I let logic dictate how I interacted with you, how I reacted to you as you grew. As your father I should have handled matters differently."
Spock tilted his head to the side in an attitude that mimicked his own. His outrage that had been billowing up just under the surface was undeniable now. "Are you suggesting that you should have treated me as inferior because of my humanity?"
"No," he answered quietly, his head hung low. "I am stating that I should have taken a more active role in your upbringing because you are my son; that you are the best parts of your mother is something I should have exalted, not repressed, and the Vulcan community should have respected you both as well as recognized you specifically for your merits instead of undermining you due to your heritage."
Staring his son straight in the eye he said, "You are unique, Spock, for so many reasons that have nothing to do with your genetic make-up."
How humans behaved like this—and on a daily basis, no less—was beyond his understanding. Emoting in this manner was severely exhausting. As he contemplated the situation further Sarek watched his son continue to stare at him as wave after wave of shock rippled across the bond; whether Spock was pleased or distressed by this unexpected turn of events he could not say. "I have attempted to convey these sentiments to you before over the course of our previous conversations; however, your recent experiences on Anguillida have negated my efforts, thereby necessitating me to be more forthright with my…feelings…than in the past."
He sighed again and took a deep breath, opting to lay out his deepest fear and most sincere hope all in one fell swoop. "I do not wish for the day to come where I am gone and you too harbor regrets over issues left unresolved between us. There is much I would tell your mother now, were she alive, and it is lamentable that she passed without ever hearing those words and more from my lips. This may not be the Vulcan way of handling such matters but it is the new Vulcan way and I am embracing it."
For the first time in his life Spock felt vindicated by his father and yet the moment was tinged with grief. Would that his mother were alive to see such a day come to pass.
And yet, he reasoned upon further reflection, she had always known that this was how his father felt. As his bondmate she was privy to all but his most private inner thoughts and perhaps that was why, throughout his life, she always sought to explain away or apologize for Sarek's actions; she attempted to put into words that which his father could not easily express.
Looking back at the screen he caught his father scrutinizing him for any hint of expression—not to pass judgment for a sign of weakness, as Spock would have thought in the past, but to see whether there was hope for their relationship going forward.
It was a…curious sensation, being in a conversation with Sarek and having his logic prevail; and despite the man's apparent contrition Spock was not quite ready to release his anger. The resentment had been years in the making; he did not believe he could let it go so easily.
"You stated that we have conversed before. How many times have we spoken since the Enterprise began her latest mission?"
Sarek's reply was swift. "Not including your call this evening or the time that has elapsed since your accident we have spoken exactly 218 times since your ship left Earth's orbit."
That meant that they had spoken on average once every 5.1 days, an unprecedented feat given the previous decade of relative estrangement. The longer he dwelt on this fact the more Spock found himself drifting back to a memory of him and his mother when he was 8.16 years old.
She found him in the garden, toiling away in the soil instead of applying himself to the much-discussed science project set up in his room. He listened as his mother trod over to him slowly through the rows, her robes grazing the first of the blooms from her rose bushes before nearing the vegetable patch. He continued to work even as he sensed her staring at his back until her voice broke the silence.
"I forgive you, Spock."
He turned to look at her and squinted as her face was framed by the sun. "I did not ask for your forgiveness, Mother."
She sighed and ruffled his hair while biting her lips together, a motion he had come to recognize whenever she became frustrated by him or his father. "Maybe you didn't say it, Sweetheart, but your actions did and I want you to know that you're forgiven. You can stop now, you've paid your penance."
Inwardly he was relieved to hear this and yet could not refrain from stating again that he did not ask for nor need her forgiveness; he was about to do just that when she stopped him by pressing her fingers to his lips. He felt a twinge of sadness across the connection but mostly he recognized the emotions signaling the release of her anger—and more importantly her abiding love for him.
"I know you think you don't need to hear it but this isn't just about you; I need to say it too, otherwise I'll sit and fester over why you dismantled my stasis unit when I expressly told you not to and it'll just make me feel worse."
A guilty blush crept to his cheeks even as he fought to tamp it down. She had not expressly forbidden him from undertaking the study of the machinery he found so fascinating; that it happened to reside in the stasis unit was merely a coincidence…
Spock looked up at his father again. He had not asked for it and yet he too was seeking forgiveness by laying bare his faults in a most human-like way. Anger was just as irrational as regret and yet there the two S'Chn T'gai men were, each feeling just that. Their reconciliation would be a testament to his mother and how much they each loved her…
It would be her legacy.
He decided to test this conclusion by way of invitation.
"Doctor McCoy anticipates that our daughter will be born in approximately 22 weeks. Should you have any business that would take you within the vicinity of the Enterprise at that time perhaps you would consider stopping aboard."
Only if pressed would he ever admit to noticing the slight up tick of his father's mouth as understanding dawned.
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.170, 0702 hours. She awoke with her hand splayed out beside her and fingers pressed down onto smooth, cold sheets. Stirring, Nyota pulled herself semi-upright and looked about for her husband, finding him sitting and reading a PADD on the opposite side of the room. She smiled in remembrance of many such mornings spent just like this, and although she was no longer able to slip stealthily out of bed she made her way over to him for a good morning kiss nonetheless.
He broke away from his reading to meet her lips and gently pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arm holding the PADD about the waist while his free hand twined with hers. The bond was electric, full of white-hot, pulsing curiosity and astonishment, and Nyota glanced over to see what had so captivated his interest.
"'The New Vulcan News'?" Spock nodded as she crinkled her brow. "Have you been up reading this all night?"
"Negative; I have been working my way through back issues of the periodical since 0335 this morning. I find the format of the paper, as well as the news it disseminates, to be most intriguing. For instance, Vulcan periodicals formerly did not allocate time, space and resources to recording birth announcements, and obituaries were reserved only for the passing of our most revered elders." He pointed to a column of glyphs and she noted the birth of 36 new children in the community some 5 months back. "Also, the advertising of goods and services, while not impractical…"
She rolled her eyes and gently placed a hand on his cheek, stopping him mid-speech and guiding his gaze back her way. "And what, pray tell, prompted you to wade into the pools of Vulcan journalism at such an early hour?"
"My conversation with Sarek this morning occasioned me to become more interested in the happenings of the colony. He also suggested that I might…"
Her eyes bugged out and she shifted in his lap. "Wait, wait, wait; you spoke with Sarek?"
His amusement pulsed across the bond at her reaction. "Yes. I have already said as much."
"And?"
Spock's eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. "And it was a most—satisfactory conversation."
Nyota leaned in close so now their foreheads were also touching. "Satisfactory?" she asked.
His mind lit up in a smile. "Yes, Nyota—most satisfactory."
She didn't want to press him for details but Spock did show her a few glimpses from their hour long talk; as he did so she felt an ache in her chest lessen. She hadn't realized until then that the strained relationship between the pair had burdened her almost as much as his anger toward Sarek had upset him.
Unintentionally, Nyota's thoughts trailed back to her own conversation with Sarek the day she informed him she was expecting. A new wave of awe—this time from Spock—washed over her, the depth of his father's feelings for them and for their family resonating deep.
"Yes, Ashayam*," she said, "He cares for us more than we can possibly know. I'm glad you now know it too."
Spock nodded, equally pleased, and leaned in to kiss her. It was some time before she decided she'd had her fill of his lips and when they were through she snuggled up against him in a post-make out stupor. "As I previously stated, Sarek suggested I acquaint myself with news of the colony so that if the opportunity ever arose to visit the settlement I would be up-to-date on all culturally important events." Somewhat as an afterthought he added, "I also have secondary and tertiary motivations for perusing 'The New Vulcan News'."
Spock marveled at his life as his adun'a settled herself against him, her love humming across the bond and intoxicating him like so many pieces of chocolate. Carefully, so as not to upset her seat, he set the PADD on the side table and draped his arm about her waist.
"I also have secondary and tertiary motivations for perusing 'The New Vulcan News'."
"Oh?" He could feel her smile bloom against the side of his neck. "And what are they?"
"I am attempting to locate a Healer, one traveling in the vicinity of the Enterprise now or in the coming weeks. If one can be found then I would seek to engage their services in order to reconstitute the bond between us." Spock paused as her astonishment and affection roared across his palm. Teasingly, he looked down at her and asked, "Does this please you?"
"Yes," she breathed out in a heady whisper. "Very much."
"Good. It pleases me as well." He held her ardent gaze and her look smoldered a more primitive desire within him until he found himself loathe to suggest they ready themselves for duty.
"What was the other reason?" she finally asked.
"The other reason?" As if he needed another reason to want to re-forge the bond with her…
"That you were looking at the paper. You said you had another reason."
"That would be correct." Spock looked down at her left hand and, more specifically, the ring she wore. "I have also sought out the services of a jeweler. I understand why I did not commission a wedding band for myself at the time of our bonding yet I seek to remedy this oversight as soon as possible. I have no desire for us to find ourselves in similar circumstances ever again and seek a ring that is in likeness to your own, that way all who see it will know that I am yours just as you are mine."
She crushed her lips to his, her arousal instantly apparent, undoing him with her passion. Spock felt heat surge the entire length of his body as he rose from the chair, gathering her up in his arms and moving swiftly across the room to lay her back on the bed. Carefully positioning himself over her he watched as her breaths came in short, excited gasps as he tantalizingly ran a hand up the side of her leg until his fingers came to the waistband of her pants.
"Nyota…"
He wanted her—badly—but did not want to push; as she liked to remind him they had only reconciled 3.89 days ago and had not been intimate since prior to his injury. He was painfully reminded of that fact by the growing bulge in his pants as it rubbed against the uncompromising fabric of his briefs.
"Spock," she moaned, hips rising up to meet him, "Please…"
It was all the invitation he needed.
He wanted to spend hours worshipping her, tasting her, pleasing her…unfortunately they did not have that kind of time. As it were they were still 11.2 minutes late reporting for shift without suitable notice or explanation. The Captain took one look at them as they exited the lift and Nyota instantly flushed and looked away. Kirk actually grinned before winking as he met Spock's gaze, muttering, "You sly dog, you," under his breath.
He would never understand James T. Kirk no matter how long he lived.
*Sa-fu = Vulkhansu, son
*Bendii Symdrome = A Vulcan condition where emotional control is eventually stripped away
*Ashayam = Vulkhansu, Beloved