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Spock receives the comm from the Captain early in the morning, before Alpha shift starts, the content of it making him raise a slanted eyebrow in puzzlement. The message isn't entirely surprising, after all, the Enterprise wasn’t new to roster rotations and the comings and goings of crew being reassigned and transferred to other starships or stations, especially after disastrous events such as the still recent attack by Khan a year prior.
However.
It was customary for the First Officer to be alerted of any new personnel being assigned to the ship. But with the Captain’s message staring him in the face he realises he wasn’t warned about this one at all. It unsettles him and an inexplicable cold sensation of dread goes down his spine. Most unsettling indeed.
He quickly arrives in the transporter room and immediately spots Jim with his arms crossed and staring bleary eyed at the far wall of the transporter; he notes that the hour is quite early for the Captain.
“Captain,” Spock begins and Jim blinks with a start and turns his gaze to him, his tired blue eyes wrinkling at the corners as a smile forms in his face, “Why was I not informed that we were being assigned a new ship’s counselor?”
Jim stretches his arms over his head and yawns before responding, still seemingly trying to blink the sleep from his eyes, “Damned if I know, I got the missive only a few days ago and it looks like the guy specifically asked not to have you informed of his arrival until the actual day he’d get here,” he shrugs with an apologetic half smile.
He lets out a small exhalation through his nose, what would constitute a sigh by Vulcan standards, and crosses his hands behind the small of his back, “May I know the name of the counselor at the very least?”
“Oh yeah sure it’s-”
Jim is interrupted by the transporter technician on shift piping up, “Captain. We are ready to beam up.”
“Sure, yeah. Energize ensign,” the Captain straightens out his posture into a more commanding one and pulls the hem of his golden shirt to smooth out the wrinkles.
The transporter hums and brightens as the golden particles appear and coalesce into a humanoid shape. As the new arrival fully materializes on the transporter pad Spock’s sense of dread comes back with full force and he finally understands the human idiom of the feeling of someone walking over your grave.
“Little brother!” comes the booming, cheerful and familiar voice.
Sybok .
“Uh… wait what?” says Jim beside him, “Little brother?”
Spock can’t help it, he turns around and he flees the transporter room.
The Captain didn’t comment on the new arrival that day during Alpha shift, only sending amused and questioning glances at Spock whenever their eyes met, and he wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing. Regardless he resolutely made sure not to bring attention to the events of the morning.
It was much later that day when Spock had retired back to his quarters that Jim showed up, knocking on the door frame of their shared bathroom as he leaned against it, clad in casual gray sweats and a white t-shirt. It makes Spock sigh once again, and he nods.
“So, we’re gonna talk about this or what?” Jim says, fully entering Spock’s quarters and crossing his arms.
“I do not think I am afforded much of a choice in the matter.”
The Captain scoffs and rolls his eyes, “C’mon Spock, don’t be like that. If you don’t want to really talk about it, that's fine, I’ll leave and not bother you about it. But I do think that as your Captain I’m owed an explanation?” The question is hopeful and not an order as Spock imagines most Captains would make it. But then again, Jim isn’t like most Captains in many senses.
“No, you are correct, you are owed an explanation,” Spock says as he settles on his meditation mat, motioning for Jim to take a seat on a chair near it, “What is it you wish to know?”
Jim smiles and pulls the chair a little bit closer to where Spock is seated, turning it around and straddling it, his arms crossed over the back of the chair, the unusual seating arrangement making the Vulcan raise an eyebrow at him.
“Ok so, I talked to him a little bit after you… you know… fled the transporter room,” Spock preens a bit at that even though he knows he had in fact done exactly as the Captain had said, “it’s fine tho, don’t worry about it. But, your brother Spock? I never knew you had any siblings?”
“You never asked,” Spock has to fight the embarrassed blush that threatens to climb to his cheeks at the unimpressed look Jim gives him, “But yes, technically Sybok is a son of Sarek and my half-brother.”
Puffing out a breath Jim nods, “Alright, damn man… any other siblings I need to watch out for?” he asks with a grin.
When Spock studiously avoids his eyes, feeling the blush finally win out and bloom green across his face he sees the blonde’s smile falter and his eyebrows raise in alarm, “Spock… do you have any other siblings?”
The memory of Michael bursts bright in his mind, and he takes a second to collect himself, “I am afraid that is classified Captain.”
Jim groans and rubs his face with a hand before raising from the chair and moving it back in place to where it was, “Ok, but you’re not getting away with that little tidbit of information Mister, I’m an insistent guy you know,” he points at Spock with a smirk and saunters back to his quarters through their bathroom, the door sliding shut with a quiet hiss.
He has just started on a delicate experiment in one of the ship’s laboratories when his comm buzzes where Spock left it in the far side of the lab counter, making him blink and gingerly set down the petri dish he had in hand.
[Sybok]
Hey little brother, I’d like to talk to you in my office whenever you’ve got the time. We have a lot to catch up on! :)
The addition of the ‘ smiley face’ at the end of the message makes Spock narrow his eyes and he quickly shoots back a response before flipping the comm closed and getting back to the day’s work.
[Spock]
I am available at 2000 hours, I shall be there at that time.
And so it is at exactly 20:00 o’clock, ship’s time, that Spock finds himself smoothing out the wrinkles in his blue uniform shirt before hesitantly touching the door buzzer to announce his presence, looking at the plaque over it that spells out ‘Ship’s Counselor: Sybok’
“Come in,” he hears the warm baritone of his brother as the door slides open.
Sybok looks at the same time familiar and unfamiliar from the last time he saw him, sans the instance in the transporter room. His hair is still long and wavy, curling around his ears, his beard is fuller now, both are peppered with a few strands of white that weren’t there when he’d last seen him, and his face is open and friendly as he smiles broadly at Spock. The completely un-Vulcanness of him unnerves Spock.
He frowns slightly in displeasure before he catches himself and composes his face back into his usual emotionless mask when his brother rises, he is wearing a long white and cream colored robe and not the regulation blue and black uniform.
“Brother,” Sybok says gently, moving to stand in front of him, his eyes bright and sharp, almost seeming to bore right into his very katra, “It is so good to see you again, it’s been too long.”
“It has been exactly twelve years, six months and two hundred and forty nine days since we last spoke,” Spock says primly, it seems to elicit a booming laugh from his brother, who drags the two chairs sitting in front of his office desk so they are facing one another, before sitting down in one of them.
“Somehow it seems much longer doesn’t it?” he grins warmly and motions to the empty chair.
Spock sits, his posture attentive and wary with his hands resting on top of his knees, watching his brother cautiously and waiting for him to continue.
“Isn’t there anything you’d like to ask me?” says Sybok, a knowing glint in his dark eyes. The question makes a sudden and not entirely unexpected burst of anger bubble in his gut and he has to fight the urge to glare and close his hands into fists.
“Father has asked if you had contacted me after,” he forcibly swallows before continuing, “the destruction of Vulcan.”
The question seems to catch Sybok by surprise as he blinks and his smile falters slightly. His brother sighs and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, his own fingers tangled together between them.
“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised that father of all people asked after me, but then again, Vulcans don’t lie right?” he says with a smile, but there is a sharpness in his eyes that speaks of sarcasm, “No, I did not contact you. I erroneously felt like the reminder of my presence wouldn’t be welcomed by either of you. It seems I was wrong.”
“How can you be certain of that?” Spock allows himself to narrow his eyes at Sybok.
The look on his brother’s face softens as he says, “Well little brother, I can practically taste the pain and anger coming from you,” Sybok sighs and looks to the left, to a point somewhere in a far wall, in a show of vulnerability, “I don’t blame you. I should have been here, I should have called.”
“What about Sha-Ka-Ree and your…” Spock pauses for a second as his brother’s gentle gaze moves back to him, “followers?”
Sybok grimaces and runs a hand over his hair tugging a few strands behind his ear, “After Vulcan, even all the way in the Gamma Quadrant where I was, the pain of all those lost minds, it tore at me,” he takes in a deep breath before continuing, “I was almost comatose for a time. I was truly adrift for the first time.”
“When I was banished I always took comfort in knowing you had one another to look after eachother, but then Michael was gone, and then Mother,” there is a deep set grief plain in Sybok’s face that makes Spock want to fidget in his seat. Seeing his half-brother’s open and blatant emotionalism was always uncomfortable to say the least, but now he saw only the same pain that he felt reflected in his brother's deep black and expressive eyes. A pain he could never begin to express with the same freedom as Sybok did.
“Truth is Spock, you and Father are all the family I have left now. And banished or not I wanted to come back,” and then Sybok smiles again, warm and gentle, “Sha-Ka-Ree can wait.”
He believes him, he sees in Sybok’s face his earnestness and he truly believes him. His half-brother’s link in their familial bond had never broken or diminished, and so his presence had always been constant in the back of Spock’s mind, but he knows his brother’s other mental bonds had long since been broken by the banishment, with the exception of the ever present tapestry of minds that interlinked all Vulcans. And thinking about it, Spock can’t even begin to fathom what it must have been like for Sybok, with such a potent empathic telepathy, to have felt the demise of billions of their people all at the same time.
If it had all but almost broken Spock, he shudders to think what it must have been like for Sybok.
And so he simply nods in acquiescence of his brother’s words, an ‘olive branch’ humans would say. At Spock’s acceptance, Sybok’s smile broadens and he sees a physical shift on his brother’s demeanor, as if a weight had been lifted from his broad shoulders.
Sybok leans back on his chair and begins again, “So, let’s talk about the Captain,” Spock raises an eyebrow in curiosity, “You love him,” his older brother smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
And for the second time since Sybok boarded the ship, Spock flees.
If anyone asked, Spock would adamantly say that he was not avoiding his brother. That would be entirely illogical, after all there was no reason to avoid him.
None at all.
But he alters the path he usually takes to the labs so he does not go past Sybok’s office, and whenever he sees his brother turn a corner in the ship or step out of a turbolift, he’ll turn around and take another route.
Sybok seems to take this all in stride and with gentle humor, as he always does. And Spock sometimes catches him talking and interacting warmly with the crew, his presence having been welcomed with open arms by everyone. Once he even catches his brother’s booming laughter in the gym, as he fences with Lieutenant Sulu. He even finds Sybok chatting amiably with Dr. McCoy in the mess hall, the doctor clearly enthralled and amused by whatever it is they were discussing.
Another, more alarming time, Spock is forced to walk past his brother’s office to reach the quarters of one of his lab technicians to deliver a report, and he sees Jim walk out of Sybok’s office, face flushed and smiling as he tries to surreptitiously dry tears from his face. Spock freezes in place, his heart dropping on his side when he notices the tears, and then Jim looks up at him and chuckles.
“Boy Spock, your brother is one hell of a counselor.”
Composed, Jim walks past Spock and claps him on the shoulder. And it’s all Spock can do not to crack the data padd in his hands.
His nightly meditation time increases by one point seven hours from then on.
Spock taps the buzzer on his brother’s quarters a few days later, when he knows he’d retired back to his rooms.
“Come in,” Sybok says from inside and the doors slides open. He’s standing close to the en-suite bathroom door, toweling dry his hair - his brother’s affinity for water showers was still a constant it seemed - and he’s now wearing thinner simpler sleep robes, of the same cream and white colors of his usual attire.
“Little brother! What brings you to my quarters this late?” he asks warmly and with a pleased grin.
“When did you procure a counseling degree?” says Spock as he stands stiffly, his hands behind his back.
Sybok’s bushier slanted eyebrows raise at the question, and the smile turns into an amused one, “Well, after the destruction of Vulcan I in fact went to Betazed to heal, they have quite a wonderful mental health facility there you know,” he shrugs, “the Betazoids were quite fascinated by my empathic abilities, and one of them offered to sponsor me to one of their counseling programs, she felt I was uniquely gifted for it, one thing led to another and here I am.”
“I see,” Spock murmurs, he couldn’t fault the logic of Sybok’s path.
“But me getting the job here on the Enterprise wasn't a coincidence in case you were wondering,” amends his brother, “I knew you served here for years, and I specifically asked for the position, believe it or not little brother, it is my wish to mend ties between us.”
“Have you spoken to Father?”
Sybok lets out a resigned sigh, hanging his towel around his neck, “Not as of yet. I was hoping you’d help me with that part.”
He quirks an eyebrow at Sybok, cocking his head to the side, “You know me and Father always had a strained relationship.”
His brother waves a hand, clearly dismissing the statement, “You both have been brought closer together in the last two years, don’t even bother trying to deny it Spock,” Sybok winks at him with a grin and taps the side of his head with two fingers, “I can sense it.”
“Very well,” Spock says, looking briefly down and then back up to his brother, “However I do not know how I could assist you in that.”
“Just put in a word that I’m looking to speak with him, all I want is for him to be receptive when I call and I’ll do the rest,” walking towards his own meditation mat, Sybok sits down with crossed legs and a relaxed posture, “but… you didn’t come here to talk to me about father or where I got my certification.”
His brother smiles indulgently when Spock sits in front of him in his own meditative pose, with his posture properly straight and kneeling with his feet tucked neatly under his legs, “Affirmative, I came to inquire why the Captain appeared to be crying when he left your office three days prior,” he shoots him a reproachful look as Sybok looks at him calmly as if already expecting that question.
“I’m sorry little brother, but patient confidentiality. I’m sure you know I can’t talk about anything that’s said inside my office,” he leans forward slightly, “but, I can assure you it had nothing to do with what the two of us talked about in there before you fled.”
Spock narrows his eyes at his older brother.
“So, do you want to talk about that now? You know I can sense the bond between you two right?”
He stiffens, his shoulders raising slightly in defense at what Sybok just casually said, “What bond?”
This time it’s his brother who cocks his head to the side, peering curiously at Spock, “The t’hy’la bond, what else?”
Pressing his lips firmly together and squeezing his knees with his hands where they are resting, Spock has to stomp down the strong urge to flee again. It was too much to hope for, but of course his empathic brother could sense the dormant t’hy’la bond that stretched between his and Jim’s mind. He himself had become acutely aware of it that fateful day on the warp core, an almost physical cord snapping as Jim took his final breath and his world collapsed for a while before Dr. McCoy miraculously brought him back.
“He does not know,” Spock says quietly.
“Oh Spock,” Sybok’s eyes are gentle and filled with understanding, and he can suddenly see why the rest of the crew had warmed up so quickly to him, embraced him as one of their own as more and more visited his office.
They talk for hours that night, about Jim, about the rest of the crew, about Michael, about Mother. And when Spock sleeps in the few hours before his shift, he can feel the warmth of his bond with his brother in the back of his mind, strengthened and more alive than it had ever felt in the years since his banishment.
The mending of their relationship progresses quietly over the next couple of days, Spock does not visit his brother’s office again, but he stops avoiding him and once or twice they meet in Sybok’s quarters, simply to talk. He helps facilitate Sybok’s communications with their father, and despite their glaring differences and years of a non-existent relationship between the two, even Spock can see how openly Sarek talks with his brother, the three men finally finding some common ground and beginning to mend old wounds.
After a few days Sybok is even invited to accompany him and the Captain in a diplomatic mission to a planet petitioning for entry into the Federation.
Naranda IV is a lush tropical planet, with sprawling jungle covering most of the above ground terrain, it’s dominant civilization newly warp capable and just starting to dip their toes into contact with other alien cultures. They call themselves Narani, they are tall and slender with elongated necks, a deep dark emerald skin often freckled with yellow and purple. They are completely hairless, with no noses, breathing from gill-like structures on their long necks. They possess three eyes, the two larger ones a dark ultramarine colour and one smaller in the center of their foreheads the color of which shifts from yellow to purple.
The Narani are also a powerfully telepathic species, and as soon as they had learned the Enterprise had been assigned to a diplomatic mission with their ruling ministers, and knew amongst its crew were two Vulcans, they were eager to ask for both Spock and Sybok to take part on the diplomatic negotiations.
That is why Spock found his brother entering the transporter room before the away team beamed down, wearing what he imagined was his best robes and with a wide excited smile on his face. He sighed internally and began to hope that the Narani people didn’t come to expect for his brother to be an actual representative of the entire Vulcan species. They would be sorely disappointed in case one of them decided to one day visit New Vulcan.
Jim looked between the two brothers as they took their places on each side of him on the transporter pad, a satisfied smile brightening his face, before saying, “Energize.”
Spock felt that the negotiations with the Narani ministers were progressing smoothly as they retired for the day, Naranda IV is a planet rich in dilithium and above ground rubindium, both elements that were highly sought after for use on federation starships. And the Narani seemed eager to enter into a mining agreement in exchange for entry into the Federation.
The three men had been offered special lodging in the palatial prime minister’s estate, and as Naranda’s double moons lazily pass through the night sky, they make their way down a long hallway with wide open windows towards their quarters, the fresh jungle breeze accompanying them as they walk.
“It’s been a while since we had a diplomatic mission like this,” Jim says beside Spock, tilting his head from one side to another seemingly trying to stretch stiff neck muscles, “I’m even starting to get a taste for them you know, never thought I’d be any good at it. Standing around all day talking is hell though.”
“Are you in any pain Captain?” Spock asks, eyeing where Jim was rubbing his neck.
“Nah, just a little bit stiff, nothing serious,” the Captain smiled at him.
“You know,” Sybok starts idly, on the other side of Jim, “Vulcan neuro-pressure is a very popular form of massage between mine and Spock’s people, I myself am no good at it, but my little brother is said to be quite adept at it, I’m sure he could help you out with your neck pain.”
He can scarcely believe what his older brother just proposed, a green blush creeps over his neck and face as he glares at Sybok.
“Oh hey! Really?” Jim looks from his treacherous brother back to Spock with a beaming smile on his face, and Spock forcibly composes himself, “I didn’t know about that, do you think you could loosen up my neck a little bit?”
Spock has to break his eye contact with his brother’s playful expression and look at Jim incredulously. There is a hopeful look in the blonde’s eyes and something more, a heated glint that he had never seen in there, it makes him catch his breath.
“Well, I suppose I’ll be going, it’s been a tiring day, and I’ll need all the meditation I can get before the rest of tomorrows negotiations,” Sybok says with an exaggerated yawn, pushing ahead of the other two, “Good ni-”
His brother is interrupted by a loud explosion coming from just outside one of the nearby windows. The three men rush towards the sound, their phasers immediately in hand. They peer down, hearing shouting and the sound of phaser fire, when Spock feels a tickling sensation on the back of his neck making him whip around at the same time as his brother does so.
They see the lone figure of an unknown Narani with a phaser rifle trained on them, their expression contorted into one of pure hatred and their center eye opened wide, it’s coloring a violent and glowing red. Spock immediately connects the tickling sensation he’d felt with the red center eye on the Narani, remembering from their briefing on the species that the vehicle for their telepathy being the oddly colored third eye and recognizing the sensation he’d felt as a telepathic attack, that thankfully both his and Sybok’s powerful mental shields were able to stop.
“Usurpers! Your Federation will not defile Narani purity!” they growl, raising the rifle in a move to shoot.
A commotion behind their attacker seems to distract them for a second, and it’s the opening Spock needs to fire his phaser, the shot clipping the Narani on one arm and forcing their aim upwards where the rifle shot shatters an overhead light. With a stunned arm the attacker is easily tackled by incoming guards, who wrestle the rifle from their grip as they scream obscenities and threats towards Spock, Sybok and… Jim.
“Brother!” gasps Sybok beside him and Spock’s blood runs cold. Jim.
In the heat and rush of the attack Spock had completely forgotten the fact that the psy-null human would have taken the full brunt of the psychic intrusion due to his lack of mental shields. He turns around and sees his brother cradling a shivering Jim in his arms, an overwhelming protective urge takes over Spock at the sight of his t’hy’la with his eyes pressed tightly closed, blood trickling from his nose and hands fisted on his hair as he shivers and breathes in great gulps of air.
Spock kneels in front of Jim, all but forcibly removing him from Sybok’s grasp and pulling the blonde into his lap, he brushes a hand over Jim’s forehead and flinches as he senses the fractured mind under his fingertips. He’s about to start panicking when a Narani woman rushes towards them.
“Guests! Are you well, the attack-”
“The Captain was severely affected by the psychic attack,” Sybok interrupts her in a heated rush, he puts his hand on Spock’s shoulder and looks down at him, “I believe I may be able to help, Spock carry him and follow me to my quarters.”
The confident way his brother says it subsides some of Spock’s bubbling panic and he nods distractedly, carefully lifting Jim in his arms as the blonde continues to shiver and gasp, and he starts following Sybok, his brother making great long and purposeful strides towards his nearby quarters. Spock hugs his Captain closer to his body and has to force himself not to sob as memories of Jim’s death on the warp core rush unbidden in front of his mind’s eye.
When they arrive in Sybok’s room his brother instructs him to sit Jim on the soft carpeted ground in front of the bed, and Spock arranges for him to be seated upright.
“Brother, I’ll need your help in this,” says Sybok and it makes him look expectantly at his older brother, “I can heal the wounds from the mental attack, but I’ll need to draw strength from your bond with him, so for that I’ll have to link both your minds in a shared mind-meld.”
He nods, ready to do anything necessary to heal Jim, “What would you have me do?”
“Sit next to him and take his hand, I’ll link our minds,” Sybok smiles gently.
Sitting next to his Captain on the ground, Spock takes one of his hands that’s still clutching at his head, gently unfurling the blonde’s fingers from the fist it had formed and taking hold of his hand, his own long fingers tangling with Jim’s shorter shivering ones.
Sybok kneels in front of them as Spock looks back at him, he arranges his hands on both Jim’s and Spock’s meld points and intones.
“My mind to your mind,” My thoughts to your thoughts, Spock hears the familiar words echo in his mind as he falls into his brother’s meld.
It has been so long since he’d been part of a shared meld like this, and he takes a second to center himself as his vision fills with black. A long pulsating silver and gold thread extends from his chest into the distance, it’s thin and looks brittle but Spock instantly recognizes it as his bond with Jim. Behind him he then feels the enveloping presence of his brother, his mind like an overly warm and heavy blanket, the sheer force of his presence had always unsettled Spock when they’d melded when they were younger.
“ Take the bond in your hands Spock, follow it.” Sybok’s voice seems to come from all around him, and he gently touches the thread with his fingers.
An indescribable feeling of warmth, home and love floods him at the point of touch and he lets out a sobbing gasp, at the same time he feels the bond just beginning to break apart in his hands and he has to rush forward to follow the thread, his brother’s warm presence urging him on.
The thread seems to fray and split the further the deeper he rushes into Jim’s mind, until he reaches a tangled mass of gold and silver, like a bird's nest. He falls to his knees in front of it as he feels the pain of Jim’s fractured mind bleeding through their shared bond, he can feel the tears he’s powerless to stop streaming hot down his face outside of his mind and he starts feeling overwhelmed by the sensations, getting pulled under as if drowning, when he feels Sybok’s presence like a warm hand on his shoulder.
“Do not despair little brother, let us untangle his mind together.” His brother's voice is but a whisper in his mind and the strength he projects is enough for Spock to take a deep breath and compose himself so that he can start to gently pull at the tangled and frayed strands of the bond.
It feels almost like an eternity in his mind, but they finally manage to unravel the threads and heal Jim’s mind. With the bond repaired back to it’s healthy form he finds Jim’s golden presence connected to it, curled tight on himself in a fetal position. Spock leans over him, his arms encircling Jim’s mind and he pours all his love, worry and affection into it.
T’hy’la, Jim, he whispers softly as the blonde’s mind stirs.
“Spock? What happened, where am I?” he feels more than sees the confusion coming off Jim.
We are in your mind, you suffered a strong psychic attack from one of the Narani and your mind got fractured, me and Sybok performed a mind-meld to heal it back to it’s whole state, Spock says, indulging the need to feather his fingers over Jim’s mind. He feels Sybok chuckle warmly from somewhere around them.
“And this?” Jim seems to gently tug at the thread of the bond where it extends between them.
It is our bond, we are t’hy’la Jim, he senses the blonde’s curiosity at the term.
“What does that mean?”
The t’hy’la bond is the strongest and most revered bond in my culture, it forms spontaneously. It’s meaning cannot be fully translated into Standard, it is a bond that means friend, brother, Spock pauses and brushes his fingers over Jim’s mental presence, and more if you wish.
“Oh…” Jim’s voice is a breathless whisper in his mind, and he feels the blonde’s hope bloom between them fiercely, making Spock smile.
“Brother, we must end the meld, the Captain’s mind is still weak, we need to let him rest,” Sybok’s voice is apologetic but Spock sends him his agreement through their connection, with Jim’s mind cradled in his arms he can feel how weak he is.
Sleep ashayam, Spock whispers softly at Jim as both he and Sybok retreat from their shared mindscape.
They gently move the unconscious Captain to the large bed in Sybok’s chamber. Spock couldn’t help lingering next to him, gently brushing strands of his dirty blonde hair back from his forehead, feeling the gentle hum of his now peaceful sleeping mind whenever his fingertips touched skin. The pale pallor of his skin had gone back to a healthy flush, and the blood that trickled from his nose had been gently cleaned by Sybok.
“I never knew how strong a t’hy’la bond could be,” his brother said softly from where he was standing on the other side of the bed, his hands clasped in front of him and watching Jim with awe in his eyes.
“It is one of the strongest of our kind,” Spock responded and Sybok hummed in agreement.
The effort it took him to get up and leave Jim’s side was almost too much, the now acknowledged bond between them acting almost like the gravity well of a star. But he still had his duty, and the Captain had to be transported to the Enterprise as soon as possible.
Flipping open his communicator he called, “Spock to Doctor McCoy.”
“McCoy here, what happened this time? If you’re the one calling then it can’t be good.” the doctor's gruff voice responded from the other side of the line.
“The Captain was victim of a psychic attack from one of the Narani, he is stable but unconscious at the moment so it would be prudent to have him relocated to sickbay, stand at ready as I will have him beamed to the Enterprise.”
He heard Leonard curse and the sound of movement, probably of him rushing to the transporter room to be there when Jim got beamed up, “Christ, not a damned moment of peace, alright I’ll have my team ready and you can beam him up whenever, McCoy out.”
The click of his communicator flipping closed is followed closely by knocking on the chamber’s door. He exchanges a look with his brother, they both quickly take their phasers in hand and Sybok approaches the door cautiously.
“Guests, I apologize for disturbing you, I have come to see if you need assistance,” the voice on the other side of the door is apologetic and nervous. “Are you hurt?”
Sybok lowers his phaser and tension drains from his shoulders with a sigh, whatever he sensed most likely not being aggressive.
“Come in,” says Sybok. The door opens enough for a Narani woman to peek her head inside, the same that had tried to help them earlier in the hallway, she looks about them with a frantic look and Sybok opens the door wider so she can come in.
“I apologize once again, the Captain…” she begins, gazing worriedly at Jim’s sleeping form laying on the bed.
“He will be fine, we’ll have him beamed to the Enterprise so our medical team can keep an eye on him,” says Sybok gently, giving her an encouraging smile. The Narani woman returns the smile with a nervous one of her own.
“What was the intention of the attack?” Spock’s tone is perhaps sharper than he intended, but his nerves are still somewhat frayed due to the events of the evening.
The woman jumps and looks back at Spock with wide eyes, “Ever since our people found others beyond our star there has been a small but vocal faction that has seen the contact with other worlds as an affront to our… purity ,” she says the word with an embarrassed grimace. “We never thought they’d resort to violence, but your arrival here seems to have incensed the more hateful of this group, fortunately the attack was quickly suppressed and the perpetrators have been apprehended, I am gladened that no further harm has come to the Captain,” she finished with a small apologetic smile.
“Indeed,” says Spock in a chill tone.
Some of his anger may have bled out into his face, because the Narani woman fidgets and bows low at them, “I shall leave you to the rest of your evening, good night gentlemen.”
She all but flees from the room and Sybok shakes his head with a chuckle, closing the door.
Not wasting another moment, Spock flips the communicator back open, “Spock to transporter room, is Doctor McCoy there?”
“Yes sir, he has caught us up on what happened, we are ready to beam you up whenever you are,” says the transporter technician.
“Very well, three to beam up.”
Jim awakens two days later when Spock is busy working on reports in his quarters back on the Enterprise. He hears the sound of the door to their shared bathroom open and the sound of Jim rapping his knuckles against the doorframe.
He looks up and has to contain the relieved smile that threatens to show on his face at the arrival of Jim, a healthy flush on his face and a broad fond smile warming his features, he’s once again clad in his casual gray sweats and white t-shirt.
“Permission to come in Commander?” Jim asks playfully.
Spock rises from where he’s sitting behind his desk, posture straight and arms folded behind his back, “Please come in Captain,” he says formally but feels a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips.
His Captain walks into the room and stands by the wide viewport behind Spock’s desk, leaning his hip against the bulkhead with his arms crossed in a relaxed pose.
“How are you feeling Jim?” Spock asks gently.
Jim looks out the viewport at the stars and the curve of Naranda IV where they are still in orbit, “Bones says I’ll make a full recovery, but the headache will stay for a little while longer,” the blonde looks back at him, his eyes softening, and he takes a step closer to Spock.
“So, we should probably talk about this bond thing,” Jim motions between the two of them with a hand.
Against his better judgement Spock feels an illogical bubble of nervousness and anxiety rush up his spine, and he instinctively stiffens before saying, almost in a rush, “The bond is dormant for now, I know you had no say in it’s formation, we need not acknowledge it any further.”
“Spock,” Jim says with a chuckle and steps closer to him and clutches his arms, his eyebrows furrowing in exasperation, “ Spock, don’t work yourself up over this, honestly for such a smart guy you can be a bit dense.”
“Jim?” confused Spock frowns at him.
The other man rolls his eyes and the hands clutching his upper arms slide down to hold on to his wrists, “You were inside my mind remember?” Jim smiles again, “Can you honestly tell me that I had anything against it? Really?”
Spock remembers the feeling of hope and affection that had seeped out from Jim’s side of the bond, and he blinks, “No… You seemed content.”
“Damn right I was,” the blonde says heatedly, “You said the t’hy’la bond could be more than the bond of a friend or brother, how do you feel about that?” Jim looks at him closely, gauging his reaction, hope expressed plainly in his bright blue eyes.
“I… would not be averse to it,” he cannot help the blush that colors his features at the admission.
And then Jim laughs, the sound happy and content and making Spock smile slightly. As his laughter subsides, the blonde grins at him, the thumbs on his hands rubbing circles on Spock’s wrists.
“May I kiss you Mister Spock?”
In lieu of a verbal response, Spock leans forward and presses his lips against the Captains in a human kiss, his hands twisting in Jim’s grasp to take hold of his hands in a simultaneous Vulcan kiss. Jim lets out a soft and happy sigh as he flutters his eyelids closed and leans into the kiss more firmly, crowding further into Spock’s space so the Vulcan can feel the warmth of the human’s body seeping through his clothes.
Spock rubs his fingers against Jim’s hand, basking in the feelings of love and happiness as the blonde darts a tongue out to deepen the kiss, Spock happily opens his mouth to Jim’s slow exploration and he can’t even begin to wonder where his own feelings begin and end thanks to the contact between their hands creating a feedback loop of contentment, happiness, love and heat.
Jim finally leans back, sucking in a shuddering breath and pressing quick pecks on the corner of Spock’s mouth and jaw. He pulls the blonde further into his space and lets go of his hands, wrapping his arms around his waist and closing his eyes at the embrace, nosing his soft blonde hair and inhaling his scent.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Jim whispers next to his ear, making him shudder, he feels Jim’s smile stretch where it is pressed against his neck.
“I became aware of the depth of my feelings for you after…” he swallows and can’t continue, but Jim nods, understanding the words he cannot say, “I thought I had lost you,” he murmurs softly.
Squeezing his arms where they are wrapped around his shoulders, Jim lets out a breath and says, “I’m here Spock, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
And Spock believes him, as he’s always done.
It’s days later - after the diplomatic mess with Naranda IV had been resolved - and Spock finally stops in front of his brother's office for the first time since his first visit, when Sybok had requested his presence. He touches the buzzer by the door, and he blinks when it opens immediately.
“Well come in,” comes his brother's warm voice from inside and he steps past the threshold, peering at where Sybok is curved over an open drawer, piling PADDs.
Spock shifts from foot to foot before moving to sit on one of the chairs in front of the long office desk, he notices little mementos and souvenirs strewn across the office that seemed bare the first time around. It makes the place more lived in, more accommodating.
“Ah, those are gifts from the crew,” he turns to look at his brother who has since closed the drawer and is smiling broadly at Spock, “most of them are from the human population of the ship.”
Sybok puts his hands on his hips and he looks around at the gifts decorating his office, a fond smile on his face, “It never ceases to amaze me how giving humans are, like they are eager to leave a portion of themselves, no matter how small, with you.”
His brother looks back at him with a knowing sparkle in his eyes.
“I wished to thank you, for saving the Captain’s life back on Naranda IV,” Spock says primly, inclining his head in thanks towards Sybok.
The older Vulcan just shakes his head and chuckles, sitting on the chair beside where Spock is sitting, in the same arrangement as the first time Spock visited the office, “There is nothing to thank me for, I would never let anything happen to your t’hy’la little brother, not if there was anything I could do about it.”
“Still…” says Spock, and Sybok smiles broadly again.
“I can tell your bond has strengthened you know,” that playful jovial glint is back on his brother's eyes, making Spock blush slightly, “I take it you two discussed the bond at length then?”
“Yes,” he says softly, looking down to hide his embarrassment, “We have decided to pursue the bond further.”
He hears his brother’s delighted laughter at the admission and he feels Sybok’s hand clutch his forearm as he leans forward, a brief squeeze transferring his brother’s gladness and fondness with the contact before he retreats back.
“I am so very proud and happy for you little brother,” and then he says quieter but no less fond and warm, “and I’m sure mother would be too.”
And Spock allows himself a small smile, it being mirrored broadly in his brother’s face.
The End.
