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“We’re going to Myan,” Sulu told Jim and Spock as he sat down with them in rec room two. “You two want to take point, since you have the whole family thing going on?”
“Sure,” Jim said. “Galenmork still there?”
Sulu smiled. “He’s stepped down from being head priest, but he’s still there. I’m sure he’ll want to see you guys.”
Jim looked at Spock. “Sarek, you and me. Astraea should come, but then we’d have to bring T’Risa. Do you think she can handle something like that?”
Spock thought for several seconds. “She has made great progress since she first bonded with Astraea. Her bonds with the three of us have been immensely helpful as well. There is no way to know how she will respond to going outside her comfort zone unless she does it.”
Jim scowled to himself. Outside of her comfort zone. That was one way of putting it. T’Risa had never tried to leave their quarters without one of the four of them. Her aunts would do in a pinch, but Mommy, Grampa, Sa’mekh’al, and Sa’mekh’al Sarek were all infinitely preferable. In that order. The one time they had taken her off of the Enterprise, she had thrown a massive temper tantrum, the likes of which Jim had never seen. Even his fits of anger while he was pregnant couldn’t compare to T’Risa’s rage and fear at being taken away from her home.
But that had been two years ago, and she had grown more confident in the time since. Perhaps it was time to try again.
“Very well,” Jim said. “But I’m holding her the whole damn time.”
“Unless she wishes to be put down,” Spock ordered. “In which case you will not hinder her recovery by being overprotective. It is vital that she be given as much space as she desires, even more so than other children.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jim muttered. T’Risa wouldn’t want down. He knew Spock agreed with him, so he didn’t argue with Spock over the details.
“Grampa?” T’Risa asked timidly.
“What is it, Beautiful?” Jim asked. “Do you want to go back to the ship?”
“Can you… can you put me down?”
Jim, Spock, Astraea, and Sarek all stared at T’Risa, Spock stopping mid-sentence. Spock’s mind prodded Jim’s, silently reminding him of his promise. “Of course, Beautiful,” Jim said, gently lowering her to her feet.
Even more quietly than the first question, T’Risa asked, “Mommy? Grampa? Can I go play with Galenhart?”
Jim wanted to scream no, that his beautiful granddaughter couldn’t go and play. She wasn’t ready. This was only her second time being on-planet, and she was six years old. She had never—well, shit. She’d never even met another child close to her age. Perhaps that was what she needed.
Before Bump or Spock could even process the question, Jim said, “Of course. Have fun. We’ll be right here if you need us.”
T’Risa smiled. It was rare, that smile, the wide one that was full of joy and entirely lacking fear. She walked slowly over to Galenhart and grabbed his hand. She said something in that quiet voice of hers, and Galenhart nodded. He tugged at her hand and led her out of the room.
“Is there a reason you are all so surprised?” Galenmork asked.
“T’Risa is…” Jim stopped, unable to find the proper words.
“Damaged,” Spock said, as honestly as ever. “Her mind is fragile. She has never desired to be away from us, let alone be away from us in an unfamiliar place.”
“And you’re okay with it?” Galenmork asked curiously. “You do not have a problem with her acting this way?”
“It is evidence that her mind is healing,” Spock said. “It is not in a Vulcan’s nature to be shy, particularly not as shy as T’Risa is. It is promising, but unexpected.”
Jim was glad Spock didn’t mention the pain of it, of knowing that someday soon, his beautiful granddaughter wouldn’t need him any more than his daughters did. He was happy for her, but he was sad for himself. At least he would always have Spock.
“Ah,” Galenmork said, smiling after the children. “I see.”
“What do you mean, we’re going back to Myan? It’s not exactly a frequent stop, and since it isn’t actually part of the Federation—”
“Galenmork has requested a position as Ambassador on the Enterprise,” Sulu interrupted him. “Apparently they are considering our invitation to join the Federation, but they wish to have an Ambassador travel with us for a time before they make the decision official. Galenmork volunteered for the position.”
“Why?” Jim demanded.
Sulu chuckled. “Well apparently, Galenhart won’t stop asking after T’Risa. Several times a day, it seems. Galenmork has no family left, aside from his son, who seems to have adopted T’Risa as a sister.”
“It damn well better be as a sister,” Jim muttered. “Sure as hell better not be as something more.”
“Jim, T’Risa is six years old,” Spock reminded him. “As is Galenhart. Such things are not something they could truly process.”
Jim turned to glare at his husband. “It always starts out innocent, Spock. You never expect it to—”
“Jim,” Spock said gently, “We want T’Risa to live as normal a life as possible. If that means she has a ‘childhood sweetheart,’ I believe the phrase is, we should encourage it, not prohibit it.”
Jim huffed and crossed his arms. He knew having someone else her age would help T’Risa. But watching T’Risa grow up had, from the very beginning, been much scarier than watching his daughters grow up. And T’Risa was growing up much faster than their daughters had. Well, it seemed that way. The older he got, the faster time seemed to go. Spock disagreed, claiming that time going faster was illogical, at least in the way Jim meant. (“And we are far more likely to experience a slowing of time due to proximity to a massive gravitational force than to experience time speeding up, Jim.”)
“I just want her to be my little girl forever,” Jim whispered. He knew he had said the same thing about Bump, then about Asha, Chrys, and Lennie, and it hadn’t stopped them. But it didn’t change the desire to keep T’Risa little forever.
“We have to let her grow up, Jim,” Spock answered. “I feel the same way you do. But I also love her dearly, and I know you feel the same. We cannot stand in the way of her living her life. Given what she has already suffered, we must do everything we can to help her live a normal life.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Spock’s lips twitched, but he didn’t actually smile, probably because they weren’t alone. “Neither of us has to like it,” Spock answered.
“Fine,” Jim said. “But if Galenhart does anything to hurt my granddaughter—”
“I suspect my father will have beaten you to the punch,” Spock answered. “Not to mention myself.”
Jim leaned across the table to kiss Spock’s cheek. “Fine. As long as you’re willing to protect her.”
“Always, Ashalik.”
Jim could live with that. Maybe.
Over the past ten years, T’Risa had grown stronger, happier. She was still shy, especially for a Vulcan, but she didn’t tremble in new situations, and Jim knew her memories of her first three years of life were faded and vague. It was the best thing for her. And he was happy about it.
He was not happy about the fact that she was, indeed, growing up. Into a beautiful young woman.
He’d punched more than one teenage boy in the face for making inappropriate comments about her. At least she didn’t mind it the way his daughters had. And Astraea didn’t mind his protective streak with her daughter nearly as much as she had resented it when he behaved that way around boys who were attracted to her.
Unfortunately, the one boy he couldn’t bring himself to punch was also the one boy T’Risa was actually beginning to show an interest in.
Galenhart.
“She can’t,” Jim whined to Spock.
Spock tucked Jim close and said, “She can. And we must let her. Besides, ashalik, Galenhart has been her best friend for a decade. It is a strong foundation for a relationship.”
“But that’s just it,” Jim objected. “He’s her best friend. Almost her only friend. What if it doesn’t work? What if they… Spock. I can’t see her heartbroken, I can’t.”
Spock wished he could assure Jim that Galenhart wouldn’t break T’Risa’s heart, but he couldn’t. Matters of the heart, especially when involving people related to James Tiberius Kirk, were unpredictable at best and downright erratic at worst. “I truly believe it will all work out, Jim,” Spock said instead. “And T’Risa is strong. She will figure it out.”
He was not about to tell Jim that there was an eighty nine point two percent chance that T’Risa and Galenhart were already in a relationship. He was certainly not going to tell Jim that there was a thirty one point seven percent chance they were already having sex.
“Oh fuck,” T’Risa said. “Galenhart. Come here.”
Galenhart saw what T’Risa was holding and said, “Fuck. Your grampa is going to murder me.”
Jim stared at Astraea. “Excuse me?”
Astraea’s face was grim. “Yeah,” she said. “I mean, I knew they were having sex—”
“What?” Jim nearly yelled. “You knew they were—you don’t—why didn’t you stop them?”
Astraea sighed and sat down. “We all agreed to raise T’Risa in a way that would allow her to live her life as normally as possible. We imposed fewer rules on her than most parents and grandparents, in an effort to give her a freedom she was deprived of at such a young age. I just thought… goddamn it. I should have made Uncle Bones or Asha give them both prescriptions the moment I suspected it.”
“How long has this been going on?”
Spock decided to take Jim’s anger for the next bit. “They have been romantically involved for the last seven months,” Spock told his husband. “They have been intimate for the past four and a half. At least, that is my estimate based on their changes in behavior. Is that correct, Astraea?”
Astraea was staring at him. Then she said, “It’s been going on that long?”
“You knew?” Jim demanded. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“We knew you would react like this, Dad,” Astraea said. “But there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“We can damn well take her on-planet and have this mess sorted out,” Jim growled.
“Absolutely not,” Astraea snapped.
“She is sixteen,” Jim argued back.
“And Galenhart is eighteen, I am well aware of that,” Astraea shouted, standing up. “But keeping or not keeping that baby is not our choice. It is T’Risa’s and no one else’s.”
Jim opened his mouth, only to have Spock reach over and squeeze his hand. He could also feel gentle, soothing feelings flowing through the bond. He wanted to be angry—at both the situation and at Spock, for using their bond against him like this—but he couldn’t. Instead, he sat down heavily. “It’s going to destroy her life. And what about Galenhart? His life won’t be torn apart like this.”
Spock raised his eyebrow. “Do you really believe that, Jim?” he asked. “Galenhart loves T’Risa with a devotion I have only seen between my parents and the two of us. It may set their plans back a few years, or change their plans, but they will be able to do everything they desire. It’s not as though we’re going to disown her for this.”
“Why wouldn’t she want an abortion?” Jim whispered, sinking further into the couch. “She’s so young. They both are.”
Spock was relieved. Jim was at least thinking of this in the context of T’Risa and Galenhart together. It was a step in the right direction.
“She would never do that to Galenhart,” Spock answered. “He may have been raised in space, but his father raised him by Myani standards. You know how Myani feel about children and families.”
Jim sighed, knowing Spock was right as he remembered one of the first things Galenmork had ever said to them: “Family is sacred.”
“Their name is Galensarek Kirk,” T’Risa said, as Galenhart gently placed the child in Jim’s arms.
“We decided to give them two family names,” Galenhart said, “Although they are not hyphenated as many families do.”
“That is logical,” Spock said, “It makes sense to place the family names where they would go according to each parent’s ethnic traditions, as they are compatible.”
Jim ignored his husband and his grandchild’s father. Instead, he looked down in wonder at the baby he held. They yawned, revealing sharp Myani natal-teeth that matched their pointed Vulcan ears. They blinked their three eyes, and Jim saw that all three matched T’Risa’s dark brown. “I can’t believe I wanted to kill you,” he whispered, quietly enough that even Spock didn’t hear him. “You’re perfect.” His heart actually, physically hurt with how perfect his great-grandchild was.
Sarek was twitching at his side. Jim didn’t want to let them go, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Sarek physically pulled the baby out of Jim’s arms. He glanced at T’Risa, who seemed to understand exactly what Jim was asking—she probably did; she had seen Sarek’s reaction when Chrys had given birth to Genevieve—and nodded.
Jim handed Galensarek to their namesake and stood close as their eyes drifted closed again. Teen pregnancy aside, perhaps Galenmork and Spock were both right: Family was sacred, so it would all work out.