Fic: The Things That Love Drives a Man To
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mpreg, character death
Pairings: Kirk/Spock
Disclaimer: If I owned Star Trek the original crew would have made more than six movies.
Summary: Mourning the loss of a loved one is hard when they leave parts of themselves behind.
The Things That Love Drives a Man To
The rumble of thunder pulled him from the warmth of his dreams. Jim Kirk rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glanced out the window, and then stared at the clock. Great he was tired, it was raining, and he was going to be late.
"If you take the new shuttle, Jim, you shall be there on time."
Jim rolled over and smiled at Spock lounging on the other half of the bed.
"Hello, stranger, what are you still doing here?"
"I was disinclined to get up."
Jim frowned, that wasn’t like him. Spock got up at the same time everyday without fail. He should have been scrambling eggs in the kitchen by now and berating Jim for not putting out his uniform the night before.
"Are you all right?" Jim asked, placing one hand against Spock’s forehead.
"Jim, there is no cause for concern I merely-"
"Because if you’re not feeling well, Spock, I won’t go."
"My health is perfectly adequate, Jim, and she is your lady."
"Yeah," he said rolling onto his back, "being lead by the biggest tight ass in all of Starfleet."
"Jim, young minds fresh ideas, you should keep an opened mind."
"I know, I know," he sighed. "Think if I shoved a lump of coal up his ass I’d get a diamond?"
"Most unlikely the pressure of the human rectum is not nearly forceful enough to cause such a reaction. Besides I believe captain Harriman is so full of it I don’t think it would fit."
Jim laughed and pushed the blankets aside.
"Spock, I’ve been a terrible influence on you."
"Indeed," he answered, and got up as well.
***
Half an hour later Jim came out of the bathroom, his hair damp, but swept back, buttoning up his uniform. As Spock finished breakfast and set down two plates on the table in the small breakfast nook.
"It is truly an historic event to see the Enterprise B on her maiden voyage, Jim, I am sorry I cannot join you."
"For all the greatness of this event it really is poorly organized you know, most of us won’t even be there. Bones is away with Joanna, Sulu is off commanding the Excelsior, Uhura is off on some trip to Marcus III, and you have that, that…"
"Diplomatic etiquette course."
"You’re really going to go into diplomacy?"
"It would seem the logical choice. Much as I have enjoyed providing instruction to young minds at the Academy Starfleet has diminished my role as of late, as they wish to start rotating in younger crew members."
Jim snorted. "You know I’m thinking of writing them a strongly worded letter on the mandatory age for retirement. Humans live well into their hundreds these days, what am I supposed to do with myself for the next forty years?"
He reached his arm across the table and took Spock’s hand. "Besides spending every moment bothering you of course."
Spock leaned over the table himself and kissed him.
"Promises, promises, Jim."
With that they stood up and prepared to leave. As Spock pulled on his jacket Jim hugged him from behind, letting his hand linger on Spock’s stomach.
"Good luck today, Spock."
"To you as well, my t’hy’la. You will check the science bays for me?"
"Of course and I’ll be back home to tell you all about them before you know it."
He kissed Spock one last time and walked out the door.
***
The last five days had been a living hell.
It was supposed to be a simple launching cruise for the press. They were not even supposed to leave the solar system and now they had over forty refuges with mental scarring, a damaged ship, and Jim was gone.
The service was going as well as could be expected given the circumstances, but Spock could not bring himself to act in an appropriate manner. The smell of food was overpowering to his senses and he abandoned the hall. He passed several people who offered soft words meant to comfort and hands that outstretched, before remembering he was a Vulcan, and pulled away. They did not understand. No one had ever really understood except Jim. Feeling wetness collecting in his eyes he ducked out of the hallway he locked himself in a nearby bathroom. Everything felt wrong and not just emotionally. The slight fatigue he had been suffering from the morning Jim had left had not abated. Instead it had been joined by bouts of dizziness and a feeling of being just plain ill.
Spock leaned against the door breathing deeply trying to regain some measure of self-control. The attempt was a failure as his stomach suddenly clenched and he dropped to his knees; leaned over the toilet and lost the small amount of food he had forced himself to eat earlier. Spock knew at that moment that something was very, very wrong with him. Even grief would not cause such a violent reaction from his body. He sat back against the wall and began a short round of meditation carefully checking everything to determine the cause of his illness. His eyes widened as he learned the cause of his distress.
"No."
Spock wrapped his arms around his torso where new life, completely unaware of the anguish it was causing, was growing; curled up on the floor, and wept.
***
She had been admiring her slightly over-grown rose garden when there was a frantic knock on the door. Slowly she eased herself up and went to answer it.
"I am sorry I should not put such stress on you in your condition, but I knew of no one else."
Amanda Grayson took one look at her son and ushered him inside without a word.
She sat back down as Spock paced around the room, breathing hard, trying to control the grief, the shock, and the sheer emotional pain of it all. When he felt like he could hold his composure from the coming conversation he came over to her and sat down as well.
"I am truly sorry, Spock. To lose a bond-mate at such a time, in such a way, I grieve with thee."
"It is worse."
"I don’t understand."
"Mother, Jim is-he is…he is going to leave children behind."
Dispensing with all Vulcan tradition she had promised to uphold when raising Spock Amanda hugged her child to her chest. Letting her tears fall into his hair as she wept for him. After some time she realized he had chosen rather odd phrasing.
"Children you said."
"It seems Jim’s gift for twisting probability to his advantages continues even now, twins."
Amanda started crying again, both from joy and pain. Her son leaned back from her slightly and wiped the tears from her face.
"What will you do?"
"With my life I cannot provide for young ones."
"It is not what you want though, is it, Spock?"
"What I want is immaterial it is only logical that I-"
"Spock, please do yourself a favour. Put aside logic, do what feels right."
"Mother-"
"Think of it this way, if you get rid of the last thing that ties you to that man, will you ever be stable enough to think logically, rationally, to perform your duties to the fullest again?"
"No."
"Then you have your answer."
***
"She was pregnant, Spock."
"Captain?"
"Miramanee, she was expecting."
"I am sorry, Jim, it is a great loss."
"You know what the great irony is? I’m already a father to a son I’ll never see."
But he had seen him again. Only to lose him once more in a thoughtless move by an enemy. Spock wished it to be different this time even though Jim was not with him. Perhaps if the human myths of the afterlife were true Jim would know of them somehow. Spock knew he must do everything in his power to ensure that the pregnancy was successful, both in memory of Jim and for himself. Unfortunately he had overlooked the fact that acting in a certain manner could be misinterpreted by outsiders, especially overly emotional ones.
"You wished to see me, doctor McCoy?"
The fresh smell of ale in the room should have been his first indication that things were not right.
"What the hell is the matter with you, Spock!?"
"I do not understand, doctor, to what are you referring?"
"Everything! Jim is dead and you’re as shut up as an Andorain clam!"
He had to be. Allowing too much emotional expression would be harmful to foetal development. They were at enough risk already having to touch constantly in the same womb.
"You refuse to even talk to any of us!"
His increased sleep schedule had kept him from talking until all hours, unburdening, as he knew Uhura and Chekov were doing. The nausea brought on by the smell of certain foods kept him out of the mess halls where Mr. Scott, Dr. McCoy, and Janice Rand had been meeting regularly simply to be in familiar company.
"You wouldn’t even drink during the toast!"
"I am abstaining from alcohol."
"Bullshit! I’ve never seen you turn it down before! And if you were you could have made an exception for custom! Or is that our lowly human rituals are beneath your superior Vulcan sensibilities?"
“The fact that I bonded with one does not give you any indication that I find something desirable about your species and its methods?”
"The fact that you won’t mourn him is what disturbs me!"
"Or that I do not mourn as you do?"
No doubt his need to mediate and repair the bond that had been ripped from him by engaging his mind in other matters such as work came across as cold and unfeeling.
"Jim risked his life for you, sacrificed everything he held dear for you, and this is how you repay him?!"
"If you mean to suggest that I am not affected by what has happened you are mistaken-"
"Listen to you! I was right all those years ago you wouldn’t know what to do with a warm genuine feeling you inhuman callous, cold-blooded, monster!"
Spock opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off as a glass went flying across the room shattering against the far wall.
"Get out!"
"Leonard, please-"
"Go! Before I do something I’ll regret."
Spock bowed his head solemnly and walked out the door, and out of the good doctor’s life.
Out in the hallway he breathed deeply reminding himself that he needed to keep his composure for the health of the children and that, despite the pain, this had been necessary. It would be far easier to leave with McCoy, and the others no doubt, hating him, never wanting to see his face again, than to go as they begged him to stay. To have to lose two friends in such a short time instead of just one was unfair to them. Also it provided closure for him to the final chapter of this portion of his life. The last lingering remains of infection ripped from the wound before it could heal properly.
"Thank you, doctor."
As he continued down the hallway two tiny sparks flared in his mind; clumsily trying to show concern, unable to understand the shift the sudden shift of emotions. Spock ran a hand over his growing stomach in a soothing manner. He has his own pain and he does not understand my way of dealing with mine, he thought as the turmoil slowly subsided. Of course he could have told doctor McCoy of his condition, but he would have insisted on giving aid which, as a Vulcan, he could not take. Pregnancy due to the hormonal changes often brought about great emotionalism, and so it was tradition that a Vulcan show they were capable of performing the coming duty of parenthood properly by facing the burden alone. On the human side he knew he could not remain here. The memories were still too fresh, too painful, and it would be better for the children if he didn’t. The crew would be more than happy to help of course, but they would also look upon them with pity. Think of them as Jim Kirk’s children even if they did not wish to.
With former ties now severed he went to their home and began packing up Jim’s belongings. The large collection of shirts he had acquired over the years, their joint collection of Earth antiques hanging on the walls. The book he had given him for his fiftieth birthday sat out on a table. Jim had been re-reading it.
Spock picked it up, opened it to the page he had bookmarked, and read.
I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous, and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts and in the hearts of their descendents, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for me on the anniversary of this day…I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a man winning his way up in that path of life which was once mine. I see him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him, foremost of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name, with a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place. Then fair to look upon, with not a trace of this day's disfigurement, and I hear him tell the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice.
"And I will Jim."
They would know of Jim. He would tell them and show them if they wished, but, and this he promised himself, he would work to make sure they knew their lives were their own to do with as they wished.
***
It was summertime on Vulcan, a time for young children to train for the Kahs-wan ordeal, a time for the sun to beat down hard into the windows of tiny offices, where diplomats sat amongst endless PADDs of ‘paperwork’. For the first time in his life Spock found the heat oppressive, and his belly had expanded so much that getting in and out of chairs could now qualify as an Olympic event. Still he had to keep working through it. If he allowed his mind to be idle now it would start to think about him and what this day use to be about. About where they were last year at this time…their anniversary. He was determined to focus on other matters. So, in hindsight, it was easy to see how Spock did not give the early signs of pain any attention. Back pain was constant this late in pregnancy and the contractions were so far apart initially that he did not note that they were rhythmic. As the day wore on he eventually picked up on the fact that he was in labour; as the two young minds grew fearful as they were pushed closer to the outside world. It was fitting Spock thought as he stood up, gripped the edge of his desk and called for a healer, that this day of their union would give way to a celebration of what was coming from that union. His children were determined to help him; to ease the pain even now.
He was transported to the hospital and his mother arrived quickly, setting to work bothering the nurses and bringing him cups of ice water. Sarek was off-world and had not even been informed of the recent events. Spock gripped his mother’s hand tightly as he slipped into the final stages of labour. His mind was one with the babies, as they moved ever closer to the great unknown. His body focused solely on the task at hand even as stray thoughts threatened to creep in for the one who should have been there and wasn’t.
"Jim!"
His cry came out strangled, rough with pain, and was quickly joined by the loud wailing of new lives.
***
Jim had given up his career, his ship, and his son all on the barest hope that he could get his t’hl’ya’s soul where it needed to be, and if he was very lucky get him back fully. Now Spock knew he could give up his career, his family; if his father wished it, and all those friends he had made during those long years in space to protect and raise and love the small part of himself that his t’hl’ya had left behind.
He looked down into the crib, at the two innocent souls sleeping soundly within it. They were so alike, born on the same day naturally, copper based blood, both of equal weight, both had his black hair and yet they were also so different already. The different genders first and foremost, one girl and one boy. He traced his fingers around each of them. Noting her pointed ears against her brother’s round ones. She also had the upswept eyebrows of a typical Vulcan while his were far more human. She had Jim’s eyes though and her brother had the deep brown of his own. In his eyes they were perfect and Spock was overjoyed to have them.
A late summer thunderstorm rumbled overhead waking the children who stared up at him, their eyes wide with fear and wonderment.
Do not worry, my little ones, father is here.
The End
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mpreg, character death
Pairings: Kirk/Spock
Disclaimer: If I owned Star Trek the original crew would have made more than six movies.
Summary: Mourning the loss of a loved one is hard when they leave parts of themselves behind.
The Things That Love Drives a Man To
The rumble of thunder pulled him from the warmth of his dreams. Jim Kirk rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glanced out the window, and then stared at the clock. Great he was tired, it was raining, and he was going to be late.
"If you take the new shuttle, Jim, you shall be there on time."
Jim rolled over and smiled at Spock lounging on the other half of the bed.
"Hello, stranger, what are you still doing here?"
"I was disinclined to get up."
Jim frowned, that wasn’t like him. Spock got up at the same time everyday without fail. He should have been scrambling eggs in the kitchen by now and berating Jim for not putting out his uniform the night before.
"Are you all right?" Jim asked, placing one hand against Spock’s forehead.
"Jim, there is no cause for concern I merely-"
"Because if you’re not feeling well, Spock, I won’t go."
"My health is perfectly adequate, Jim, and she is your lady."
"Yeah," he said rolling onto his back, "being lead by the biggest tight ass in all of Starfleet."
"Jim, young minds fresh ideas, you should keep an opened mind."
"I know, I know," he sighed. "Think if I shoved a lump of coal up his ass I’d get a diamond?"
"Most unlikely the pressure of the human rectum is not nearly forceful enough to cause such a reaction. Besides I believe captain Harriman is so full of it I don’t think it would fit."
Jim laughed and pushed the blankets aside.
"Spock, I’ve been a terrible influence on you."
"Indeed," he answered, and got up as well.
***
Half an hour later Jim came out of the bathroom, his hair damp, but swept back, buttoning up his uniform. As Spock finished breakfast and set down two plates on the table in the small breakfast nook.
"It is truly an historic event to see the Enterprise B on her maiden voyage, Jim, I am sorry I cannot join you."
"For all the greatness of this event it really is poorly organized you know, most of us won’t even be there. Bones is away with Joanna, Sulu is off commanding the Excelsior, Uhura is off on some trip to Marcus III, and you have that, that…"
"Diplomatic etiquette course."
"You’re really going to go into diplomacy?"
"It would seem the logical choice. Much as I have enjoyed providing instruction to young minds at the Academy Starfleet has diminished my role as of late, as they wish to start rotating in younger crew members."
Jim snorted. "You know I’m thinking of writing them a strongly worded letter on the mandatory age for retirement. Humans live well into their hundreds these days, what am I supposed to do with myself for the next forty years?"
He reached his arm across the table and took Spock’s hand. "Besides spending every moment bothering you of course."
Spock leaned over the table himself and kissed him.
"Promises, promises, Jim."
With that they stood up and prepared to leave. As Spock pulled on his jacket Jim hugged him from behind, letting his hand linger on Spock’s stomach.
"Good luck today, Spock."
"To you as well, my t’hy’la. You will check the science bays for me?"
"Of course and I’ll be back home to tell you all about them before you know it."
He kissed Spock one last time and walked out the door.
***
The last five days had been a living hell.
It was supposed to be a simple launching cruise for the press. They were not even supposed to leave the solar system and now they had over forty refuges with mental scarring, a damaged ship, and Jim was gone.
The service was going as well as could be expected given the circumstances, but Spock could not bring himself to act in an appropriate manner. The smell of food was overpowering to his senses and he abandoned the hall. He passed several people who offered soft words meant to comfort and hands that outstretched, before remembering he was a Vulcan, and pulled away. They did not understand. No one had ever really understood except Jim. Feeling wetness collecting in his eyes he ducked out of the hallway he locked himself in a nearby bathroom. Everything felt wrong and not just emotionally. The slight fatigue he had been suffering from the morning Jim had left had not abated. Instead it had been joined by bouts of dizziness and a feeling of being just plain ill.
Spock leaned against the door breathing deeply trying to regain some measure of self-control. The attempt was a failure as his stomach suddenly clenched and he dropped to his knees; leaned over the toilet and lost the small amount of food he had forced himself to eat earlier. Spock knew at that moment that something was very, very wrong with him. Even grief would not cause such a violent reaction from his body. He sat back against the wall and began a short round of meditation carefully checking everything to determine the cause of his illness. His eyes widened as he learned the cause of his distress.
"No."
Spock wrapped his arms around his torso where new life, completely unaware of the anguish it was causing, was growing; curled up on the floor, and wept.
***
She had been admiring her slightly over-grown rose garden when there was a frantic knock on the door. Slowly she eased herself up and went to answer it.
"I am sorry I should not put such stress on you in your condition, but I knew of no one else."
Amanda Grayson took one look at her son and ushered him inside without a word.
She sat back down as Spock paced around the room, breathing hard, trying to control the grief, the shock, and the sheer emotional pain of it all. When he felt like he could hold his composure from the coming conversation he came over to her and sat down as well.
"I am truly sorry, Spock. To lose a bond-mate at such a time, in such a way, I grieve with thee."
"It is worse."
"I don’t understand."
"Mother, Jim is-he is…he is going to leave children behind."
Dispensing with all Vulcan tradition she had promised to uphold when raising Spock Amanda hugged her child to her chest. Letting her tears fall into his hair as she wept for him. After some time she realized he had chosen rather odd phrasing.
"Children you said."
"It seems Jim’s gift for twisting probability to his advantages continues even now, twins."
Amanda started crying again, both from joy and pain. Her son leaned back from her slightly and wiped the tears from her face.
"What will you do?"
"With my life I cannot provide for young ones."
"It is not what you want though, is it, Spock?"
"What I want is immaterial it is only logical that I-"
"Spock, please do yourself a favour. Put aside logic, do what feels right."
"Mother-"
"Think of it this way, if you get rid of the last thing that ties you to that man, will you ever be stable enough to think logically, rationally, to perform your duties to the fullest again?"
"No."
"Then you have your answer."
***
"She was pregnant, Spock."
"Captain?"
"Miramanee, she was expecting."
"I am sorry, Jim, it is a great loss."
"You know what the great irony is? I’m already a father to a son I’ll never see."
But he had seen him again. Only to lose him once more in a thoughtless move by an enemy. Spock wished it to be different this time even though Jim was not with him. Perhaps if the human myths of the afterlife were true Jim would know of them somehow. Spock knew he must do everything in his power to ensure that the pregnancy was successful, both in memory of Jim and for himself. Unfortunately he had overlooked the fact that acting in a certain manner could be misinterpreted by outsiders, especially overly emotional ones.
"You wished to see me, doctor McCoy?"
The fresh smell of ale in the room should have been his first indication that things were not right.
"What the hell is the matter with you, Spock!?"
"I do not understand, doctor, to what are you referring?"
"Everything! Jim is dead and you’re as shut up as an Andorain clam!"
He had to be. Allowing too much emotional expression would be harmful to foetal development. They were at enough risk already having to touch constantly in the same womb.
"You refuse to even talk to any of us!"
His increased sleep schedule had kept him from talking until all hours, unburdening, as he knew Uhura and Chekov were doing. The nausea brought on by the smell of certain foods kept him out of the mess halls where Mr. Scott, Dr. McCoy, and Janice Rand had been meeting regularly simply to be in familiar company.
"You wouldn’t even drink during the toast!"
"I am abstaining from alcohol."
"Bullshit! I’ve never seen you turn it down before! And if you were you could have made an exception for custom! Or is that our lowly human rituals are beneath your superior Vulcan sensibilities?"
“The fact that I bonded with one does not give you any indication that I find something desirable about your species and its methods?”
"The fact that you won’t mourn him is what disturbs me!"
"Or that I do not mourn as you do?"
No doubt his need to mediate and repair the bond that had been ripped from him by engaging his mind in other matters such as work came across as cold and unfeeling.
"Jim risked his life for you, sacrificed everything he held dear for you, and this is how you repay him?!"
"If you mean to suggest that I am not affected by what has happened you are mistaken-"
"Listen to you! I was right all those years ago you wouldn’t know what to do with a warm genuine feeling you inhuman callous, cold-blooded, monster!"
Spock opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off as a glass went flying across the room shattering against the far wall.
"Get out!"
"Leonard, please-"
"Go! Before I do something I’ll regret."
Spock bowed his head solemnly and walked out the door, and out of the good doctor’s life.
Out in the hallway he breathed deeply reminding himself that he needed to keep his composure for the health of the children and that, despite the pain, this had been necessary. It would be far easier to leave with McCoy, and the others no doubt, hating him, never wanting to see his face again, than to go as they begged him to stay. To have to lose two friends in such a short time instead of just one was unfair to them. Also it provided closure for him to the final chapter of this portion of his life. The last lingering remains of infection ripped from the wound before it could heal properly.
"Thank you, doctor."
As he continued down the hallway two tiny sparks flared in his mind; clumsily trying to show concern, unable to understand the shift the sudden shift of emotions. Spock ran a hand over his growing stomach in a soothing manner. He has his own pain and he does not understand my way of dealing with mine, he thought as the turmoil slowly subsided. Of course he could have told doctor McCoy of his condition, but he would have insisted on giving aid which, as a Vulcan, he could not take. Pregnancy due to the hormonal changes often brought about great emotionalism, and so it was tradition that a Vulcan show they were capable of performing the coming duty of parenthood properly by facing the burden alone. On the human side he knew he could not remain here. The memories were still too fresh, too painful, and it would be better for the children if he didn’t. The crew would be more than happy to help of course, but they would also look upon them with pity. Think of them as Jim Kirk’s children even if they did not wish to.
With former ties now severed he went to their home and began packing up Jim’s belongings. The large collection of shirts he had acquired over the years, their joint collection of Earth antiques hanging on the walls. The book he had given him for his fiftieth birthday sat out on a table. Jim had been re-reading it.
Spock picked it up, opened it to the page he had bookmarked, and read.
I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous, and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts and in the hearts of their descendents, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for me on the anniversary of this day…I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a man winning his way up in that path of life which was once mine. I see him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him, foremost of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name, with a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place. Then fair to look upon, with not a trace of this day's disfigurement, and I hear him tell the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice.
"And I will Jim."
They would know of Jim. He would tell them and show them if they wished, but, and this he promised himself, he would work to make sure they knew their lives were their own to do with as they wished.
***
It was summertime on Vulcan, a time for young children to train for the Kahs-wan ordeal, a time for the sun to beat down hard into the windows of tiny offices, where diplomats sat amongst endless PADDs of ‘paperwork’. For the first time in his life Spock found the heat oppressive, and his belly had expanded so much that getting in and out of chairs could now qualify as an Olympic event. Still he had to keep working through it. If he allowed his mind to be idle now it would start to think about him and what this day use to be about. About where they were last year at this time…their anniversary. He was determined to focus on other matters. So, in hindsight, it was easy to see how Spock did not give the early signs of pain any attention. Back pain was constant this late in pregnancy and the contractions were so far apart initially that he did not note that they were rhythmic. As the day wore on he eventually picked up on the fact that he was in labour; as the two young minds grew fearful as they were pushed closer to the outside world. It was fitting Spock thought as he stood up, gripped the edge of his desk and called for a healer, that this day of their union would give way to a celebration of what was coming from that union. His children were determined to help him; to ease the pain even now.
He was transported to the hospital and his mother arrived quickly, setting to work bothering the nurses and bringing him cups of ice water. Sarek was off-world and had not even been informed of the recent events. Spock gripped his mother’s hand tightly as he slipped into the final stages of labour. His mind was one with the babies, as they moved ever closer to the great unknown. His body focused solely on the task at hand even as stray thoughts threatened to creep in for the one who should have been there and wasn’t.
"Jim!"
His cry came out strangled, rough with pain, and was quickly joined by the loud wailing of new lives.
***
Jim had given up his career, his ship, and his son all on the barest hope that he could get his t’hl’ya’s soul where it needed to be, and if he was very lucky get him back fully. Now Spock knew he could give up his career, his family; if his father wished it, and all those friends he had made during those long years in space to protect and raise and love the small part of himself that his t’hl’ya had left behind.
He looked down into the crib, at the two innocent souls sleeping soundly within it. They were so alike, born on the same day naturally, copper based blood, both of equal weight, both had his black hair and yet they were also so different already. The different genders first and foremost, one girl and one boy. He traced his fingers around each of them. Noting her pointed ears against her brother’s round ones. She also had the upswept eyebrows of a typical Vulcan while his were far more human. She had Jim’s eyes though and her brother had the deep brown of his own. In his eyes they were perfect and Spock was overjoyed to have them.
A late summer thunderstorm rumbled overhead waking the children who stared up at him, their eyes wide with fear and wonderment.
Do not worry, my little ones, father is here.
The End