Amalgamation (6/9)
The Vulcan does not see Jim after he blocks the bond again, and he supposes it is for the best. They will need to consummate their bond someday, but he does not know whether a time will come when Jim will accept what has happened. Spock had hoped, vaguely, that Jim’s violent rejection had been due to the suddenness of his proclamation, but he knows that it is not the case. Jim simply does not wish to be Spock’s mate, and he will have to accept this.
Regardless of how much it hurts.
The third day after his disastrous confrontation with Jim, his father enters his room while he works on another damage report. He considers finishing it, but it seems rather unimportant in relation to the opportunity he has now.
He sets the PADD aside, pulls his chair out, and stands to face his father. The older Vulcan inclines his head expectantly, and Spock straightens his back.
“I have informed my imprint of our bond,” he says, the words oddly difficult to articulate in spite of their simplicity. His father waits. “He did not react favorably.”
His father is quiet. “That is not surprising,” he states, clasping his hands behind his back. “Humans are familiar with the concept of ‘love at first sight’, but they are unaccustomed to any manifestations of it. He will require time.”
Spock nods. “I am aware of this. However, his reaction to the news was particularly violent.”
The older man moves to sit on the bed, and Spock is tempted to follow. He remembers conversing with his father in such a manner as a child, seated at his side and listening to his advice and criticism. But he remains where he is.
“You will need to trust my judgment. Your mate will require time before he accepts the bond between you,” his father says firmly. Spock raises an eyebrow inquiringly, and his father’s gaze does not waver. “I am aware that my advice may seem unfounded, Spock. However, I have experienced a similar situation, and what I discovered may be of use to you.”
Spock cannot resist any longer, and he joins his father on the bed, sitting at his side. Instantly, he feels like a child again, and he finds he does not mind. Spock turns and looks at his father. “You have had a similar experience to mine?”
“Your mother,” his father says simply, and Spock has to consciously control his breathing. The heaviness in the atmosphere has returned, his father looking prematurely aged once more. The older man’s eyes fix on the wall before him. “Her reaction to my imprint was unexpected, at best. Perhaps worse than merely ‘violent’.”
The younger Vulcan clasps his hands in his lap. “She reacted poorly?” he asks. It seems impossible that his mother could ever have refused his father anything. He strains to recall a time he even witnessed his mother grow angry at his father, and he cannot remember a single occurrence. But his father nods, eyes remaining fixed to the wall.
“Her initial reaction to the news was to run away,” his father explains. Spock fights the urge to blink as the confusion wells up in him. Perhaps not noticing or even considering Spock’s reaction, his father continues. “She took a transport to Montreal. I never confirmed it, but I believe her reasoning was that especially given that it was winter, the climate would have been too cold for a Vulcan to pursue her there, even if he was aware of her location.”
Spock inclines his head, examining his father’s face for any trace of the emotion he senses in his voice. He finds nothing there. “Was she incorrect?”
His father’s eyes flick to the ceiling for an instant before locking back onto the wall. “Not precisely,” he concedes. “The temperature there was low, but nothing thermals could not insulate one against. I took the first transport I could to Montreal and found her again.”
The half Vulcan nods. “Were you able to convince her then of the reality of the bond?”
“No,” his father answers, and Spock does blink this time. The other man does not seem to notice. “She insisted that I leave her alone. I did not precisely have a choice.”
Spock breathes deeply, trying to imagine this. His mother not wanting his father to be with her seems so impossible. But he knows his father would not lie to him now. “You left.”
“I did. And you must believe me, Spock - it was the most difficult thing I ever did,” he replies. And this time, there is some level of emotion in his father’s voice. He remembers him telling him as a child that Vulcans felt emotion more deeply than humans, and for the first time in his life he believes it. “For two weeks, all I thought about was going back to her and trying again to explain how necessary she was to my very survival.”
“Did you return to her, then?” Spock asks. His father shakes his head.
“Two weeks after I left, she returned to her university. She came to the embassy that same day,” he says. “I tried to maintain a respectable distance from her, but she would not allow it. She told me that she hadn’t had any luck getting me ‘out of her head’ and said that she would accept my proposal. We were married within the week.”
Spock stares at his father, trying to piece together the myriad of emotions he is feeling. “She came to you.”
“Indeed,” his father confirms. At last, he looks back to his son. “I know you are not easy to calm, Spock; it is even more difficult to reassure you. I have done all I know to do.”
The half Vulcan is aware, suddenly, that his hands are clenched together so tightly that he has lost all sensation in them. He eases them into a relaxed position. “I appreciate the insight into your experience,” he says as evenly as he can. “I will try to give my mate the time he requires.”
His father rises from the bed, looking down at him. “That is wise,” he murmurs, voice strong. “Perhaps if the strain of your mate’s rejection is weighing on you so heavily, you should engage in retrograde meditation. It might assist.”
Spock nods. “I will take your suggestion into consideration,” he says. His father nods his approval. They exchange farewells, and Spock returns to his desk.
He will consider his father’s suggestion after he completes his work.
<><><><><><><><><><>
Two more days pass without any contact with Jim, and with their bond carefully blocked both ways, Spock does not even know how the man is faring, both physically and emotionally. He is more troubled by this than he knew he could be, but he must respect Jim’s request - demand - for privacy.
There is no more work that he needs to perform immediately, so Spock finally makes his way to sick bay. Captain Pike had expressed that he wanted him to visit, after all, and it is the least the Vulcan can do for his ailing captain. The new chief medical officer - Doctor McCoy, Spock recalls - scowls when Spock comes through the door, but he does not state any objections.
“Well hello, Mr. Spock,” Pike calls over, looking altogether too happy to have him visiting. Spock takes in the stack of cards sitting in front of the captain and raises an eyebrow. The man laughs at his obvious inquiry. “Solitaire. It’s a good way to pass the time when you’re not allowed to lift anything. PADDs included.”
Spock nods, making his way slowly to the captain’s biobed. “I understand that your recovery will likely require an extended period of time,” he says, trying to be as tactful as he can. It is difficult. “I presume you have had no visitors yet today.”
“Right on the nose there, Mr. Spock,” Pike confirms, stretching his shoulders. “Seems like the closer we get to space dock, the more damage we find on this ship. The whole crew is pretty much working 24/7 on documenting everything. But I’m sure you know that.”
“Of course,” Spock nods, carefully seating himself in the chair beside the captain’s bed. “However, given the importance of proper documentation-”
“Kirk tells me you’re in love with him,” Pike interrupts. Spock stills, eyes fixed to his superior’s face. There is no amusement evident in his expression, and the Vulcan wonders what he is thinking. His silence does not sit well with the captain. “Is this true, Mr. Spock?”
It is not inaccurate, he wants to say. That is a simplification of the situation. It is much more complicated than that, he considers. Cadet Kirk is making assumptions based on incomplete information, he decides.
“Yes,” is what he ends up saying. The answer seems more appropriate than all the others. And it is, he finds himself shocked to realize, completely true.
Pike’s eyes widen, then narrow. Spock, for his part, sits rigidly beside the biobed, steeling himself for any reaction. The silence is telling.
“That strikes me as very sudden,” the captain says evenly. Spock nods, unable to even deny this. Pike idly lifts the cards and shuffles them. “A lot has happened in the past week or so. You’ve lost your home, your people, and your mother. Maybe you should wait before you decide you’re in love with someone you barely know.”
He recognizes the emotion in the captain’s voice. Disapproval. Spock cannot remember ever hearing it from Captain Pike, and he hopes he never hears it again. He stretches his back, trying to remain as professional as he can be.
“It is not something I can control,” he states firmly, hoping Pike will accept this. There is silence from the other man. “And it is a private matter. I do not feel Cadet Kirk should have told you.”
Pike sighs. “He didn’t tell me as my subordinate. He told me as a friend,” he says, eyes fixed on Spock. “I don’t want to ruin this visit, Spock, but I don’t approve of this. It’s a rough time for everyone, Jim included. Don’t force this on him when everything’s still so raw for him. He lost a lot too.”
Spock tries not to be insulted by Pike’s words. The man is not in possession of all the facts, and he is only trying to protect Spock and his crew.
“I understand,” Spock manages, although he is not certain what course of action the man expects of him. Does he wish him to tell Jim that he may disregard the issue entirely? Perhaps he is to avoid contact with Jim, or control completely everything that composes his life. But he can no more control his need for Jim than he can bring back Vulcan or revive his mother. It is an irreversible constant in his life now, and for better or for worse, he cannot possibly change it.
Pike smiles. “Good,” he says, sounding extraordinarily relieved. He sets the cards he has been fiddling with down, eyes flashing back to Spock’s face. “How is crew morale?”
Spock raises an eyebrow. “Crew morale is particularly low. But that is to be expected considering the circumstances,” he replies. “I am certain you already knew this.”
Pike sighs. “Yeah. But I was hoping things were getting better,” he shrugs. “It’d bring up my morale if people were getting to be more optimistic.”
The half Vulcan takes a deep breath. “I have been informed that you will not regain complete mobility in your lower extremities,” he admits, carefully training his eyes on the man’s face. “And I understand that some of your fine motor control has been interrupted as well.”
“I’ve got twitching, yeah,” he says easily. “And I’ll never walk without help again. I’m not going to lie, Spock - I hate it. I know that a captain has to be able to take part in away missions and can’t hold back the rest of the crew. I’m pretty much going to be forced to retire from active duty.”
“Sir-” Spock starts, but Pike hushes him.
“It’s how it has to be, Spock. I’d be a liability otherwise,” he says, looking far less grim than he sounds. Spock is silent. “But you know it doesn’t mean I have to leave Starfleet entirely. It just means I’ll have a desk job back at base. At least my wife will be happy, after she kills me for getting hurt this bad; she hates that I’ve been going into space without her these past two years. Now I’ll be home a lot more.”
Spock tries not to respond too quickly. “Your transition to ground duty will not be an easy one for either of you,” he says neutrally. “I do not know whether you will find it suits you. I hope it does.”
Pike gave him a self-depreciating smile. “You can go ahead and say I’ll hate it. We both know I will,” he admits, casting his eyes to the damaged portion of sick bay. Spock does not speak. “You knew it. My wife knew it. I think everyone who’s ever known me knows it. I was meant to fly, Spock. And I hate that now I’ll always have to be carried instead of flying under my own power. So do me a favor, Spock. If I’m ever on your ship again, humor me and act like I’m in charge. Okay?”
The Vulcan in Spock wants to point out the irrationality of his captain’s request. But something else in him tells him to let it pass without comment. So he clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I can accommodate that request. To a reasonable degree.”
Pike turns his face back to Spock and smiles - the first real smile he’s seen him give today. “That’s all I could ask for,” he says quietly. There is the faint sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and Spock recognizes the look on the older man’s face. “Well, looks like it’s medication time. Stop by again soon, okay?”
Spock nods, turning to find Dr. McCoy waiting with two hyposprays in hand. He returns his attention to Captain Pike for a moment. “When I have the opportunity, I will,” he promises. He waits for Pike to smile again, and then he takes his leave.
Perhaps now he should attempt what his father suggested.
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