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Spock rushed off the bridge as emotion after emotion crashed like a wave upon him. The whimper that had slipped out of James’s mouth rang in his ears along with his fathers voice.
He walked aimlessly around the ship for a minute, unsure of where he belonged now that he was not Captain, as James assured the crew and ordered the reroute mission. Spock ignored the species around him. Desire to be alone and meditate, or maybe cry he didn’t know the difference and never did, pulsed through him as he looked for solace.
Eventually he entered the transporter room, walking stiffly over to the circle where his mother was meant to appear before the russian boy failed to save her.
No, Spock chastised himself, it is illogical to blame a child who tried his best to save mother from death.
Mother.
Mother. Mother. Mother.
The word, the emotion behind it, the smile she hid in her eyes, they swirled inside Spock and before he knew it he was leaning over and pressing his hands to the circle, willing her to come back to him.
Memories flashed like a film behind his eyes as he mourned her.
A laugh rang out from the living room, and Spock, barely a child, creeps downstairs and peeks into the room. His mother has her feet in father’s lap and she is flipping through a PADD.
“Remember this one, Sarek?” She shows him the screen, a grin on her beautiful face illuminated by the fire raging a few feet away. “T’Naff invited us to her wedding, and when the music started to play I thought everyone would dance. I was swirling around the ballroom and everyone was staring at me like I was insane...”
She trailed off, laughing too hard to go on with the memory. Sarek rose an eyebrow towards her. Spock mimicked the movement, liking the sarcastic way his father displayed his emotion of amusement.
“I believe that event was the reason we have not returned to a Vulcan wedding ceremony.” Spock thought his father was being harsh, but his mother must have picked up something else through their bond because she only laughed harder. “Do you recall our time in Budapest, my ashaya?”
Spock rose his eyebrow, feeling a little prideful at mastering the gesture, at his father’s use of the endearment. Amanda, on the other hand, snorted into her hand and blushed. Spock secretly liked his mother’s blush. Actually, he liked all human’s blushes.
“Who do you think Spock will end up with?” Amanda had asked suddenly, Spock hid himself a little more at the mention of his person. “Honestly, I don’t think that T’Pring girl is a good match for him.”
“I know.” Sarek sighed. Spock knew his mother had a calming effect on his father and that whenever they were alone he acted significantly more emotional than he was. “The bond to T’Pring is a temporary fix for Spock. I had a thought that he might find his t’hy’la rather than settle with T’Pring.”
Amanda didn’t say anything, but Spock felt her happiness proud and strong through his familial bonds. He allowed himself to smile even if he did not understand what his father was talking about, if it made his mother that happy it could not be bad.
He pledged to himself to find his t’hy’la.
“Spock?” A voice behind him broke through his cloud of sadness. The Vulcan stood quickly and blinked the traitorous tears forming in his eyes away before turning around.
“Mr. Kirk.” Spock acknowledged, deliberately not using the title James had acquired. He attempted to leave the room, be anywhere but in the room with this man, but James moved forward and put a hand on his arm.
“Wait.” Spock wretched his arm away a little too fast. James stepped in front of him instead. “Please. I just-”
“Mr. Kirk I do not advise the two of us spending any more time together than is necessary.” Spock said dangerously, his anger bubbling up again. How dare this human say he doesn’t love his mother? His mother was precious to him and he never told her he loved her and that she’s the only person who ever understood him-
“Spock.” James pleaded. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I said and I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t mean any of it. I know you love your mom.”
Spock stopped at that.
“Emotional attachment to a sentient being is illogical and can lead to emotional response-”
“Yeah, alright, because you looked so heartbroken on that transporter because dust got in your eyes.” James said sarcastically, he winced in what Spock guessed was guilt and went on in a softer tone. “Listen, Spock, I wanna say sorry for more than just the stuff I said on the bridge, which was way out of line and I promise I didn’t mean it and I had a really good reason I can’t tell you about. Anyways, I’m sorry I didn’t break the drill fast enough. I should have moved quicker and saved the planet. I should have done something else-”
“Mr. Kirk.” Spock interjected. The other man stopped immediately, looking hopefully at Spock. The Vulcan found it uncomfortable to have a person wanting his acceptance, he never deemed himself important enough for such a desire. “I do not blame you for Vulcan’s destruction.”
James let out a breath of relief, but Spock went on.
“I...accept your apology as to what you said on the bridge.” Spock said, too tired to keep any resentments. James gave him a blinding smile in return.
“Thanks, Spock, really.” He nodded to his new Captain, and again attempted to leave, and again James blocked his path. “Just...I’m sorry about your mom. I lost my dad before I ever knew him, and my aunt and uncle were kind of like my parents but they got k-killed.”
James stuttered over the last part, looking a little lost and broken. Automatically Spock wanted to know why.
“I never understood the human desire to convey an apology for a fate they had no control over.” Spock mused.
“Hey, you’re half human. You can’t make fun of us without making fun of you.” James punched him lightly on the arm, and Spock stared at the hand for a minute even when it fell back to the other man’s side. James stared at him, shuffling from foot to foot restlessly. “You okay?”
A million thoughts flew through Spock’s head at the speed of light as he weighed all the options, considered all the probabilities, when suddenly his mother’s voice filled his head.
“Why was Secki exiled, mother?” Spock asks. He is twelve years old and full of questions. The split lip he has still hurts whenever he speaks, but he finds this querry important.
“Secki is a monster, and he deserves to be estranged from the clan.” His mother spit out. Spock had only seen his mother this angry once before; a few weeks ago when he had returned home from school with bruises on his face. “He hit, he hurt, his t’hy’la-”
“Amanda, he is too young.” Sarek scolded, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. She let out a cry and swiveled around, breaking his father’s touch and marching off onto the terrace.
“I do not understand, father.” Spock pronounced. Sarek looked down at him with an unreadable expression. Spock felt the urge to reach through their bond and find the emotion behind it, but his father spoke before he could act on it.
“Be seated, child, I must tell you what you would inevitably learn at school eventually.” Sarek said wearily. They walked into the living room and sat down. Spock faced his father eagerly. “Now, do you know what the t’hy’la is?”
“It translates to ‘friend, brother, lover’ in Standard.” Amanda had taught him that, even though she didn’t explain why. “Although, I suspect it means more than that.”
“You are correct. It is far greater than a word could describe, Spock.” Sarek looked out towards the terrace where Spock knew his mother was pacing and muttering angry Andorian words about abusive monsters. He wondered if his father wanted to comfort her as much as he did, even after what he had told Spock about this parents marriage. “T’hy’la is a bond between two people that is far easier described in Standard as ‘soulmate’. Surak, in his ancient teachings, described the bond in three ways.
“He said first, it is a splitting of the katra. Half of your soul, your essence, goes to this other person. You find your t’hy’la when you touch them for the first time. The bond becomes tangible, albeit very weak. Next, you must perform a ceremony to solidify the bond. Surak mused that the bond, when complete, was similar to that of a star turning supernova.” Spock listened in rapt fascination as his father spoke evenly. “Third, Surak stated that the bond improves everything about you as a whole. It makes you a better person.”
“How?” Spock asked, interrupting. He forced a blush back down when his father raised an eyebrow. “I apologize for interrupting.”
“Apology accepted.” Sarek said. Then he continued. “What I said is inaccurate, I retract the statement. The t’hy’la bond does not make you a better person, it gives you the ammunition to want to be. It is impossible to feel worthy of the person you love. The t’hy’la bond simply makes you strive to be a better person. It is...the most precious gift our ancestors have given us.”
“Is mother your t’hy’la, father?” Spock asked.
“I cannot tell you until you have found your own.” Sarek said, his voice a mixture of amusement and sadness. Spock did not understand at the time.
“Why?”
“I cannot tell you, my son.” Spock held back a frustrated sigh, and instead nodded.
“Thank you, father.” Spock said, standing. “Shall you go comfort mother or shall I?”
“I think in an instance like this, I should console my wife.”
“Spock.” James’ voice wretched him out of the memory, and into a stark reality where he felt the beginnings of self-hatred pummel every fiber of his being.
James T. Kirk was his t’hy’la and not twenty minutes ago had he been close to killing him.
Hurting your t’hy’la is the most vulgar act a Vulcan could ever do.
Spock had hurt his t’hy’la. He had wrapped his hands around the human’s throat and attempted to strangle him. During Vulcans destruction he had raised all walls around any and all bonds to shield any breaking pains, so when the t’hy’la bond was initiated he must have had walls around it.
Tentatively, ignoring James, he lowered his wall little by little until he could see the damage. So many were lost, and so much pain would be left behind, but Spock couldn’t focus on that now. He would meditate to heal them later.
There in the middle, amidst the chaos of broken bonds, he saw the gold beam of thread representing his new bond. He imagined it shrouded in black, signifying his tainting of the beautiful bond.
“Spock?” Again, James’ voice pulled him away from his thoughts. The Vulcan lifted his head and stared at a freckle on his bandmates face, wretched with too much guilt to look him in the eyes.
“I apologize, but I must leave.” Spock said. This time he would wait for his bond- Captains approval.
“Do you need to meditate?” James asked softly.
Caring. Spock observed.
“Yes.” He answered instead. He figured the brig would have a suitable quiet for meditation. He deserved to be in there anyway.
“You can use the Captains quarters. Or the First Officers, whichever one you want.” James said quickly. He looked nervous.
“I am neither Captain nor First-”
“I’d like you to be.” James interrupted. Spock felt a flash of confusion. It must have shown on his face, because he went on. “First Officer. I know you hate me, and I know I give you reason to, but I think we could make a good team and we could defeat this guy together. I need someone on my side, and after the stunt on the bridge I’m pretty sure Scotty’s the only one who actually still likes me. And I’m not even sure he does, we’ve only known each other for a little while.”
Spock raised an eyebrow at the rush of information, but thoroughly considered the question.
Spock could never tell James about being his t’hy’la, obviously. He had hurt him already and would be forced to live with that, but he refused to inflict such pain upon James.
But working as First Officer, even if it was just as long as they fought Nero, he would be in this mans presence. It would be enough. It had to be.
“I accept.” Spock pronounced. James gave him a bright grin, and he was hit with the memory of leaning against I-Chaya and reading off his PADD, the sun blaring through the trees in the garden of his childhood home. James was like the sun, and basking in the warmth of the sun was a favorite pastime of Spock’s.
“I’ll see you later, then. On the bridge...uh...yeah.” James gave him an awkward grin and turned to leave, but stopped at the last second. “Hey, Spock?”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Oh, don’t do that, call me Jim.” Spock raised an eyebrow. He would not call him Jim, it was far too personal and he had no right to anything of Jim’s unprofessionally. James. Jim. “I need you to know that I really am sorry. About everything.”
“You were not at fault in any of the situations you are apologizing for, Captain.” Spock said softly.
“Jim.” His tone was a little far away; he was staring at Spock with an unreadable expression. “Call me Jim.”
“J-Jim.” Spock stuttered out. He was really, in his mother’s terms, ‘screwing himself over’ in every aspect when it came to this man.
“See you later. Get some rest.” Jim said, leaving the transporter room with one last smile.
“I am immeasurably sorry, Jim.” Spock whispered to himself. “I am truly not fit to be the bondmate of such a being as yourself.”