Labor of Love, s/u, 3/3, prompt #31
Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Summary: It doesn't matter if it's a lifetime or a fading memory - he will find his way back to her.
Rating: R (for language)
Author's Note: Written for witblogi for the great prompt! I inserted some of the elements she requested right into the fic, like the heart-drawing scene with Chekov, so if you liked it, it was really her. It was a challenge to weave everything in but I hope it was to your satisfaction!
Back to Part 2 - A Way Back
Part 3 - Labor of Love
McCoy has seen the strength of her feelings so he finds her restraint admirable - astounding, even. Spock is disorientated, barely able to speak and does not recognize any of them. He is also having trouble functioning in Standard and keeps reverting to Vulcan. Hence, the only other member of the crew who can speak Vulcan is sitting at Spock’s bedside, but the man is barely looking at her. McCoy had prepared her for this possibility - but telling and experiencing are never the same. This is the love of her life and while he is not dead, he is effectively beyond her reach.
Though it is not as bad as McCoy feared, it is bad enough. The brain damage has manifested itself in many ways, not all of it entirely apparent when the Vulcan first woke up. Spock’s gross motor movements seemed off and after some testing, they realized that he could barely move his legs. There was panic in the Vulcan’s eyes before McCoy swooped in and explained this was natural when one had just woken from a coma. Spock blinked at him with wide eyes, looking wild for a Vulcan, but than Uhura leaned forward and explained it in his native tongue. He seemed to calm a bit but Uhura didn’t looked mollified - she had thrown McCoy a distrustful look as though she was saying, I know, I know you made that statement with more confidence than you should have. And he had - doctors know better than to give false hope but he is also worried that stressing Spock out too much could result in a regression.
And they can deal with the physical later. It isn’t going to be some stroll along the Georgia shore - but this is McCoy’s area of expertise. He will get Spock walking again. He will get Spock’s hands to coordinate correctly and fix whatever physical ailments he is suffering from as a result of his severe electrocution and coma. That is not what really worries him. It is his mind.
Spock knows what Starfleet is but does not know his rank. It confuses and frustrates him - McCoy can see it in his human eyes. Also, he does not understand how he can be on the Enterprise already. He thinks it’s still being built in the shipyard in Iowa. And that response lets McCoy know that he does not remember Vulcan or what happened to his mother. Some doctors don’t think amnesia is a big deal. But McCoy thinks differently. Though he has only studied psychology tangentially, he believes that people are their memories, that what they remember makes up who they are, and what they forget is thus a part of themselves that they have forever lost.
And for Spock, it’s more than just amnesia. Spock’s brain has actually been damaged. And it is still too early to tell if there’s more than memory loss - if there will be behavioral changes and damage to his mental prowess.
Spock tires quickly, though he tries to remain awake and alert. McCoy makes him lie back down, waving a hypo threateningly in his face. The moment Spock’s head settles against his pillow, he is out. But unlike the last few months, his closed eyelids are fluttering lightly and the monitor above him is measuring the even frequency of his functioning mind. Uhura has not moved from her position beside him, but her hands are no longer clasped tightly in her lap as they were moments before. Instead, they are on the biobed, her fingers stretched out so they are not quite touching the sleeve of Spock’s shirt but are trembling close by.
“Well…” McCoy begins, not quite sure what to say.
“The last time we talked we fought,” she whispers.
“Oh darlin’, he doesn’t even remember that.”
It is the wrong thing to say. Uhura doesn’t cry but she closes her eyes slowly, as though the weight of that truth is too much to see. G-d, she’s a tough kid, McCoy thinks, as he pulls up a chair and sits beside her.
It is silent for a long while - perhaps, no that long, but the quiet now brings him discomfort. He begins fumbling for something to say, some sort of meaningful condolence, or any condolence really. He settles on asking her about their fight. “What was it about?”
Uhura sniffles and her fingers dig into the sheet right next to Spock’s hand. “Back in the Academy, we were both concerned about how our personal relationship would reflect on us professionally. We kept it secret. When we were both commissioned for the Enterprise -”
“Let me guess,” McCoy snorts. “He wanted to keep it a secret still.”
Uhura lets out a mirthless laugh. “No, I wanted to keep it secret.”
McCoy can’t stop a wayward eyebrow from rising up.
Uhura leans away from him with a slight frown. “I worked hard to get where I am today. I don’t want people thinking I didn’t earn my position.”
“How can anyone think that?” McCoy says loudly, standing up in protest. “How can you think that? You know like, what? - a hundred languages?”
“Eighty-seven,” she corrects.
“Oh, only eighty-seven,” McCoy says with a roll of his eyes.
“Look, it’s different for a woman. It has always been. So, early on in our relationship, I told Spock I didn’t want any appearances of favoritism. He followed this to the letter - he even went too far sometimes - and then, just because we weren’t at the Academy anymore, he thought we could suddenly change the rules. He’s still my superior officer, he’s still…”
Uhura is losing heart in her own argument.
“Seems almost petty now, doesn’t it?” she says, slumping in her seat.
McCoy reaches out and gently squeezes Uhura’s upper arm. “Why don’t you stay the night? He might wake up sometime and…he’s going to need you.”
Without waiting for a response, McCoy gets up and pulls the privacy curtain around the bed. The last thing he sees is Uhura looking at Spock as though she is the one who really needs him.
***
McCoy is rereading messages from Joanna. They alternatively lift his spirits and bring them spiraling down. He has just spent the last three hours debating with a Vulcan and that has never gone in his favor. First of all, he learns from the stoic Ambassador that Spock possibly entered into a healing trance. Apparently, it’s a typical Vulcan thing - but the f*cking Vulcan scientists thought the damage to Spock’s brain was so extensive, this possibility was unlikely and they didn’t think it was worth mentioning to him, the doctor actually taking care of Spock. Sarek didn’t even blink when he gave this less-than-satisfying explanation. He only insisted on taking his son back - despite the fact his people had given up on Spock because they didn’t dare to hope, didn’t dare to let their emotions guide them, just allowed statistical probability be their measuring stick for life or death. McCoy’s throat is scratchy from yelling up a storm and damn it, he wishes he could yell some more but after hitting up against a brick wall, in the form of a Vulcan, for so long, he has all but given up on convincing Sarek to allow Spock to remain on the Enterprise. But then, the Ambassador walks in with Lieutenant Uhura.
McCoy looks at Uhura first. She looks neither happy nor disappointed. He then looks at Sarek, expecting him to look entirely passive but a wave of conflict flickers across the Vulcan’s face at the moment. McCoy is speechless. In fact, no one seems to be talking.
“It seems that the logical choice is not the easiest,” Sarek finally says. After a moment, he adds, “Do you have any children, Dr. McCoy?”
McCoy blinks in surprise. He didn’t expect the Ambassador to engage in small talk.
“Uh, yes, I do. A daughter.”
“Is she here with you?”
“No, no, she’s on Earth with her mother.” Sarek’s line of questioning baffles him, but he finds himself answering without any resistance. He has given the Ambassador a lot of grief and he would do anything not to give him more.
“Do you ever see her?”
“Not since I’ve left,” McCoy quietly admits. Saying it out loud makes his absence in Joanna’s life feel more pronounced than he usually cares to consider. On most days, he has his duties and he can live day-by-day and forget the great expanse of space and time that separates him from his little girl. “Well, at least, not in person,” McCoy continues. “There’s subspace communication, of course.” This they all know is just an excuse.
“I have found that interacting with my child in person is more…satisfying than interacting with him by subspace communication. This is particular true when my child is hurt. But my wants are secondary to the needs of my child. My child, in his current state, needs to be amongst people who care for him and do not judge him for his differences. My child needs to be in a familiar place, not a facsimile of the home where he grew up on and that was destroyed along with his mother. My child then should stay with the caregivers who did not give up on him, though the possibilities of his recovery were low. My child, then, should stay on the Enterprise for his convalescence as you have suggested.”
McCoy looks at Uhura who nods at him. He has no clue what she said to the Ambassador, but it doesn’t matter - it worked.
In any case, it has always been McCoy’s opinion that it doesn’t matter what f*cking species you are, your child is your child. And every damn decision is hard but you make the best decision you can for them. Now, he knows this is true.
***
It is not easy to watch Spock struggle. The moment he manages to get into a standing position, he collapses onto his hands and knees. He has actually made amazing progress but for someone like Spock, McCoy imagines anything but a day convalescence is two days too long. He is up and trying again. McCoy has tried to get him to use the anti-gravity stimulator but Spock had insisted that this was a faster method towards full recovery. McCoy had scowled at him but he is secretly pleased - Spock had always been an insufferable patient, always impatient to return to his duty back on the Bridge. This means that Spock is still Spock.
McCoy sighs when Spock collapses on the mat again. This time he does not get up immediately. Instead, he lies on his stomach, his sweaty forehead against the floor, breathing harshly. “Okay, that’s enough for today,” McCoy says.
But Uhura shakes her head at him. “No, let him try again.”
“He’s had a full day. He can try tomorrow.”
“Just once more,” she almost shouts. She turns her back to McCoy and bends down over Spock, speaking in a low tone. Her hand is on the back of his neck. Spock nods and pushes himself up with the palms of his hands. He struggles into a standing position and Uhura is right at his side in case he falls. He takes two steps.
***
Spock is on his feet again and this is good but it is apparent that a good portion of his memory is completely shot. Scotty has designed some sort of learning program for Spock and the Vulcan walks circles around the ship as he answers questions in rapid-fire Vulcan. These days, Spock still slips into Vulcan now and again, but Uhura no longer has to serve as a translator. She hasn’t left his side though and Spock hasn’t made any complaints but McCoy is concerned about the state of their relationship.
When he sees Uhura watching Spock from the end of a hallway as the Vulcan wanders about with his learning program, McCoy sidles up to her. She still looks tired but she is definitely less worn than she has been in previous months.
“How are you holding up, dollface?”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she says, her eyes never leaving Spock.
“Look, I know you are a tough broad but this has to be hard on you. For one thing, you’re working full time on the bridge and you’re helping out Spock.”
“Actually, I asked Kirk for a lighter shift.”
“You did?”
“Yes. You’re always hovering over Spock so you don’t realize I’m not on the Bridge as much, nor that I’m actually in Sickbay,” she accuses lightly.
McCoy humphs at her. This is true - sometimes he is so focused, everything else falls to the wayside. He did not expect that of Uhura though. Even when Spock had been in a coma, she did full shifts. But he supposes, now Spock needs her more than ever.
They continue to stand together and silently observe Spock. There’s something almost enthusiastic about the way he just takes in information. McCoy wasn’t as familiar with Spock as others obviously were, but even he notices some differences about the First Officer - there’s a certain nativity in his understanding and speech now, some rigidity in his movements, and overall a little more uncertainty about himself. Spock has been told a great many things, like that he is friends with most of the crew, but he doesn’t recall the experiences, one in particular, that has bond him to them. The experiences that once defined him are now lost to him and he can’t be who he used to be through mere secondhand accounts. With regret, McCoy has to acknowledge that the Spock they used to know is also lost to them.
“It is not very hard anymore,” Uhura starts saying after some time. McCoy looks at her with tired skepticism. But Uhura is shaking her head, insistent. “The hardest part was not knowing and then, watching him struggle. But he has physically recovered and there is no indication of mental defects or behavior alterations. No serious ones, in any case. There’s only memory loss.”
McCoy frowns at this. Uhura is a smart gal so he doesn’t think he needs to tell her that it’s not simply memory loss, that she can’t just fill in the gaps for him and get him back to where he used to be. It’s probably denial, he thinks, and he of course means to go about it more elegantly but he ends up blurting out, “But he doesn’t remember you. Don’t you care?”
“Of course I care,” she says shortly.
When she does not elaborate, McCoy exclaims, “Well?”
Spock looks up at them from where he is down the hall. No doubt he heard McCoy. Uhura gives him a small wave and he merely looks at them for a moment longer before looking back down at his PADD and resuming his exercise.
She gives a small sigh. “He used to look at me a certain way and it is hard looking at him and not seeing that in his eyes anymore. It is hard going to bed knowing he will not be thinking of me the same way I think of him. It is hard knowing that he doesn’t remember all the times we spent together, the late night conversations we had, even the fights we had. I want him to remember everything. But I don’t need him to. He is still Spock. And I’m still me. And we’re going to fall in love again.”
And there’s not even a tremble of doubt in her voice. He will find his way back to her.
***
McCoy doesn’t know when he has become such a busybody but dare he say it - he has become fascinated with watching Spock and Uhura’s relationship blossom. Uhura has told him that she doesn’t want to impose upon this Spock so she has decided not to tell him about their previous relationship. “Telling and experiencing aren’t the same, right, Dr. McCoy?” she smiled a bit wanly. “One day, I’ll tell him about our trip to Kenya, I’ll tell him about our waltzing lessons, about the Academy, about us, but we need to rewrite this from the beginning first.”
He has no idea how they were like prior to Spock’s injury but he imagines it happened the same way it is happening now - slowly, quietly but intensely. Simple courtesies, shared interests, long discussions. Foreheads closer than necessary, knees bumping, quiet brushes of their fingers. Spock has never been extremely open and apparently, Uhura isn’t either, so it requires some careful observation and some chance encounters. And maybe, sometimes hiding inside a Jeffries Tube or two.
“Hey, move over,” Christine hisses.
“What are you doing here?”
“Just monitoring the First Officer’s progress,” she replies smartly.
“But, uh, I…don’t you, aren’t you in love with Spock?”
Christine brushes her blonde hair out of her eyes. “I’m attracted to him, of course - what person with a pulse isn’t? And yes, I also care about him, but not the way Uhura does.” She points to the pair around the corner of the Jefferies Tube entrance. “What she’s doing - that,” she sighs, “is a labor of love.”
And together they watch as Uhura teaches a clumsy Spock how to waltz. Ever since the Vulcan has recovered physically, his movements have been as elegant as before. But now he’s stepping all over her toes and she grimaces now and again but her face glows with happiness and her laughter echoes throughout the hall. Spock looks a little baffled by all of this but he is holding her hand and he looks entirely…fascinated. He fumbles again but Uhura just smiles and they pick up from the beginning, dancing to a song only in their minds.
Indeed, McCoy thinks it is all unfolding like a sweet Georgia song, and he almost remembers when he was young and in love and everything was sweet even when it wasn’t. He looks over at Christine and she smiles at him. They climb out of the other end of the Jeffries Tube together.
***
McCoy feels everything is almost back to normal. But they didn’t tell Spock about Vulcan and that was a mistake. Because Spock is Spock and he’s been reading reports and of course, something is said in one of them that doesn’t quite make sense and he searches the database for the connecting threads. And then he learns from a dated Starfleet report that his mother is dead, that his planet is gone, and that those around him have by omission been lying to him.
He sits in his quarters for hours and does not admit anyone. Uhura is frantic, Sarek looks somewhat puzzled by such illogical behavior, and Kirk is punching the override codes but McCoy won’t let anyone in.
Spock looks up when McCoy walks into his bedroom area. He looks like he has been asleep, his eyes a bit bleary and his hair sticking up in odd directions.
“You cannot protect me forever.”
“I know.”
***
He permits Spock to return to the Bridge but he keeps him on light duty. Everyone seems to be walking on eggshells though McCoy is surprised that he even notices since he thinks he is the most nervous one of all. He tries not to hover too much, but he wants to know if Spock is performing adequately, if he is becoming tired, if everything is the same. He doesn’t really know Spock enough to really know but he’s trying.
When Spock has been on the Bridge for exactly four hours, McCoy stands and Spock looks in his direction and nods. McCoy is taking him back to Sickbay to run a few tests before releasing him to his quarters.
In the turbolift, Spock reaches out and pushes the emergency button.
“Spock?”
“It is illogical for you to feel guilty.”
“I…”
“I reviewed the report, Dr. McCoy.” He raises his eyebrows as though he is curious that McCoy thought he wouldn’t have read it and brought the matter up. “You were thrown off balance by the extreme tilt of the ship - a result of the battle in which we were engaged. This was something beyond your control. Even if I had suffered from a more serious injury or died, it would not have been your fault.”
McCoy does not know what to say. The feeling of guilt is so inherent in his very being he did not realize he had been burdened by this.
“My life is not the same. However, I believe I have you to thank for having this life.”
Spock turns and releases the emergency button as though he has not just released McCoy.
“Of course, life is fragile. I know you recognize this and have done everything in your power to help me regain my life. I sincerely hope that you extend the same care you did for me to all aspects of your life. In particular, to all persons in your life whom you love.” He pauses and McCoy thinks this is it, but right before the door slides open, Spock adds, “Do not regret what your last actions and words are to your daughter.”
McCoy doesn’t know how Spock even knows about his daughter but he doesn’t question it. He just nods and follows Spock as the Vulcan leads the way to Sickbay.
***
Epilogue
It is a f*cking Christmas baby and McCoy couldn’t be any happier. Except perhaps if it wasn’t oh-three-hundred in the morning. It seems like most babies arrive at inconvenient hours.
“Push, darlin’.”
“I’m f*cking pushing!” Uhura screams. McCoy raises an eyebrow. For a xenolinguist knowledgeable in 87 languages, she’s not very eloquent at the moment but Uhura gives him a pointed look that says - you try giving birth some time.
Spock distracts Uhura by makes soothing sounds as he holds her hands. The white lights above the biobed reflect off their wedding rings and McCoy is almost mesmerized for a moment about the miracles of the past and now, of the present.
Christine elbows McCoy sharply in the side and he turns to level a stare at her. She lifts an unimpressed eyebrow before saying to Uhura, “C’mon, love, just one more push!”
Uhura gives all she’s got. She always does. And then the baby is out and it is crying and it fills the room with its wails. Christine steps forward, taking the baby in her arms to clean it and wrap it in a blanket. Spock is still holding onto Uhura’s hands but he is craning his neck over her to see his child.
“What is it?” the Vulcan finally blurts.
Uhura laughs and kisses Spock’s hands.
“It’s a girl!” Christine says, bringing her over to her parents. “What are you going to name her?”
“We have not yet decided.”
“But we did decide on something,” Uhura says as she takes the baby into her arms. Her face looks a bit worn from the long labor, but her eyes are bright and mischievous.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” McCoy mutters when it seems like both of them have been absorbed by the baby.
“We were hoping you would agree to be her godfather,” Spock says, looking McCoy in the eye. McCoy feels like the ship has tilted on its side but in an entirely different way than in the past.
The crackle of the intercom prevents McCoy from responding and he barks out a gruff, “What?”
“Can we come in? Can we come in? Can we come in?” It’s Kirk, standing outside the private room set aside for the birthing. Of course, he's the one acting like an infant. And then, another voice - female and young. “Daddy, daddy, can we come in? Can we?” McCoy should be concerned that his Jobo is spending even two minutes in Kirk’s company, but for now, everything seems right in the world.
Looking at Spock, he says in the intercom, “Affirmative.”
Fin
***
Thanks to witblogi for the great prompt! I inserted some of the elements she requested right into the fic, like the heart-drawing scene with Chekov, so if you liked it, it was really her. It was a challenge to weave everything in but I hope it was to your satisfaction!
And an extra big thanks to my betas, spocklikescats and slwmtiondaylite , for helping me get this polished off during the holidays! I know it was a busy time for you, too, so I really appreciate your efforts! If you comment, please thank my betas for their awesome and speedy work because otherwise, this fic wouldn’t have been posted until after the new year (and after I came back from a trip abroad!). So, yeah, bows to their awesomness. (Especially since I had suggested to spocklikescats that I intended to write something 1,000 to 5,000 words and uh, it’s definitely not under 5,000 words.)
And finally, HAPPY NEW YEAR, everyone! Hope you have fun plans for tonight. Okay, time to grab my heels and black dress and look for my own Mr. Spock! Or maybe even, Dr. McCoy… ;)