Chapter Text
Spock was quite in control of his emotions.
It was not hard to contain his feelings and release them during meditation or when he was alone. That was a common misconception about Vulcans, that they didn’t feel. Vulcans felt a great deal, but the logic was in putting aside those emotions and taking away their power. Of course, the difference between suppressing those emotions and controlling them was releasing those emotions in a safe and private space. Sarek was not a perfect parent, far from it in fact. But he had done his best in his own Vulcan way to instill Surak’s principles into his son. Meditation was by far the most memorable principle. Spock remembered when he was just five years old, a restless child who had to sit there and practice for the first time.
“This is a very private practice,” Sarek had said. “It very well may be your most vital skill. Meditation allows you to visit your emotions without empowering them. In meditation, you feel them and release them from within. You must accept your emotions and let them go.”
The first time he demonstrated meditation was the first time Spock saw his father cry. The Vulcan did not make a sound or show any signs of distress. He simply breathed in and out, and the tears fell.
Sarek meditated with his son until he was ten years old to make sure Spock was utilizing the practice properly.
And every day since he was five, he took the time to meditate. Even if it was only for ten minutes. The longer he went without meditating, the more it affected his ability to function optimally.
Spock was quite in control of his emotions.
So when the captain informed him that they were to escort thirteen religious leaders to the spaceport ZH-12 for negotiations with Federation delegates, he paid no concern. When he was informed that one of the religious leaders was a Vulcan, he paid no concern.
In fact, it wasn’t until they were standing in the corridor outside of the shuttle bay when something happened.
He was standing there stiffly, listening to Doctor Mccoy complain about their dress uniforms that were indeed too constrictive for comfort, when he saw the last man step out of the shuttle. The captain greeted him like he did the other twelve leaders, like he was just another person. As if he wasn’t the destroyer of all happiness.
Sybok.
He looked so different with his long hair and beard, older too. Of course he is older, he mentally reprimanded himself, it has been nearly two decades. And yet he looked just the same as the night he stomped out of the house, carrying nothing but a duffle bag, muttering curses under his breath. His hair had been buzzed on one side back then, and he had at least eight piercings. Twenty years and nothing had really changed about him.
Sybok was eight years older than Spock, a full Vulcan, even though he had never acted like it. Sarek had blamed his rejection of the Vulcan way on his mother, a Vulcan princess who praised passion and emotion. Spock’s father never talked about his first wife, but what little he said made it clear that it was an arranged marriage of mutual dislike. Amanda had loved Sybok all the same and he had loved her. Despite his glaring faults, he was a part of the family.
“Be gentle, Spock. Gentle .” Sybok laughed softly as he opened his palms.
“I am!” Spock protested, squirming in his brother’s lap. They were sitting in the garden behind Amanda’s tomatoes on a little picnic blanket. In Sybok’s hands was the Vulcan equivalent of a butterfly, a mathra. It was bright red with four sets of wings and almost the size of Sybok’s entire palm and Spock was desperate to touch it. His eyes were wide and astonished by the world as if he was already a scientist at the ripe age of six years old. The mathra’s wings fluttered but made no attempt to fly off. Sybok had said he could feel the mathra’s contentment from where it was situated on his hand.
“Okay, here,” Sybok slowly inched the manthra into Spock’s tiny little hand. The half-Vulcan giggled at the soft, fluttering touch of the bug. “It’s just a little thing, Spock, so be careful.”
Spock nodded eagerly and smiled when the mathra was in his hands now. Sybok’s hands still cupped Spock’s just in case Spock accidentally closed his hands out of excitement. But he didn’t, the little one just observed the creature calmly, almost as if he was worried a quick movement would scare the insect.
Abruptly the insect flew out of Spock’s hand and circled around his head a few times, making him giggle and laugh. The mathra landed on Spock’s head before flying off, but Spock would never forget that moment, preserved perfectly in his memory.
But the magic couldn’t last forever could it? Sybok was the first of many to betray Spock, and just like all the others, left without even looking back. It was raining that night, a rare occurrence on Vulcan. It usually foreshadowed violent weather.
Spock had been sitting on the stairs, hands wrapped around the bars. All he could hear was sharp conversation that quickly turned into yelling. And suddenly it got quiet and then Sybok rushed into the entry hall, his duffle bag in hand. He looked back at Spock but didn’t say a thing, just closed the door and left.
Spock had run after him despite his parents telling him not to, out into the rain with no shoes. His feet splashed the puddles, soaking his pants and he ran, but Sybok was already in the hovercab, driving away. He ran until he couldn’t run anymore, yelling his brother’s name but that car never stopped. Spock was not even 11 at the time.
Home was never the same without Sybok, and for all Spock’s time spent in the garden, there were no more mathras either.
And now Sybok was walking toward him, recognizing him.
The world was washed of sound, replaced only by blaring white nose. It was the sickening kind that consumed all senses. Spock was trapped, frozen with emotions he had sworn he’d mastered. Nothing could betray him for the overwhelming fear, anger, and betrayal that made his heart race and consumed his thoughts. Mere seconds had passed but it felt like Spock had been stuck here for a million years.
And now the captain and Sybok were in front of him. Spock could see Jim’s mouth moving as he introduced his first officer, but he couldn’t stand the recognition on Sybok’s face.
He stepped out of the line-up of senior officers and walked down the corridor, away from his past and the destroyer of happiness.