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Returning to the city after five days in the wilderness with Jim and Leonard, Spock finds that he is… oddly nervous.
His communications with his mother the night before had been simultaneously joyous and perplexing. Amanda shared his excitement over Jim agreeing to be assessed by a mind healer, to confirm the compatibility that Spock was certain they shared; a prelude to an engagement bond similar to what he had shared with T’Pring prior to coming to earth.
The perplexity had come when Amanda had assured him that there was indeed a mind healer available on Earth to perform the necessary checks; when he’d insisted that they must be discreet , Amanda had laughed.
“I don’t know a single Vulcan who isn’t discreet in the extreme, honey. And you can trust me on this one; whatever secrets you think you’re keeping between you and Jim, I think this healer will be more than capable of handling.”
Following this disconcerting statement, she’d changed the subject, inquiring after his trip and what all he had experienced on his outing ‘with the boys’.
The pack bond thrums with reassurance in response to his unease; clear and sweet from Jim, clumsy but well meaning from Leonard.
Adapting to the active influence of other minds on his own had taken no small amount of meditation on Spock’s part; he’d anticipated a feeling of claustrophobia at having constant psionic activity in his mind. In truth, the opposite had come to pass; though it had taken a few days to settle, the bond was a source of great comfort to Spock.
Growing up as an only child with a psi-null mother and a distant father had not garnered Spock much experience with telepathic bonds; his betrothal to T’Pring had only reinforced that loneliness, rather than alleviating it. But having Jim, and Leonard too, albeit distantly, in his mind at all times…
Spock likened it to some of the formal banquets that he’d attended as First Officer on the Enterprise ; he entered the event knowing that there was a place for him at the table and that there would be friendly faces there to greet him. With the pack bond, there was a constant feeling of togetherness, of allies at his back.
As he entered the Vulcan Embassy for his afternoon appointment, Spock suppressed a tickle of amusement. Perhaps Leonard had had a greater influence on Spock than the Vulcan had initially believed, if Spock’s own thoughts were beginning to take the shape of metaphors and simile.
The mind healer that would meld with Jim and test his mind for compatibility with Spock’s had requested to meet with Spock beforehand; Jim would join him at the Embassy later when Leonard was finished with his shift at Starfleet Medical.
Though Jim had insisted he would be fine, neither Leonard nor Spock had been comfortable with the idea of someone potentially upsetting Jim and triggering a shift; having all three of them present for Jim’s examination would help to anchor him and lend him more control.
“Spock.” came a familiar voice, and he turned to greet his Father with an expressionless face and a perfectly composed ta’al.
“Father.”
Sarek returned the gesture and then motioned for Spock to follow him to one of the offices sprinkled throughout the embassy; an old wooden door, sequoia wood if Spock had to guess, clicked shut behind them
“It is my understanding that you will be seeing a mind healer today to assess the readiness of your mind for bonding to another. Is this correct?” the Ambassador asked in Golic.
“It is.” Spock agreed.
“May I ask why it is that you doubt your ability to bond? I understand having your human partner evaluated, but there were no known complications in your bonding to T’Pring. I wish to understand your motivation.” Sarek continued.
Spock bit back his initial instinct to inform his father that even if there had been complications with T’Pring on more than a personal level, Sarek would have been at the bottom of the list of people Spock would have confided in.
Sarek did not face Spock, but rather stood near the window and watched the garden below as he spoke. If they had shared a closer familial connection, or been human, this would have been acceptable; as it stood, by Vulcan standards, Sarek’s stance was deliberately dismissive.
Twin nudges of assurance and support thrummed along the pack bond and Spock allowed the feelings to bolster his resolve, grateful once more for the surprising addition to his life.
And therein lay his response as well. The pack bond was nothing to be ashamed of, and indeed, only needed to be kept secret insomuch as it was necessary to protect Jim’s identity as a non-human.
But stranger things had happened in the history of Starfleet than psionically gifted humans, and humans as a whole were rather well known for their ability to be underestimated.
“I have recently developed new psionic connections with two individuals.” Spock replied, also in Golic. “I do not doubt the ability of my mind to bond to another; I wish only to ascertain that the formation of a new bond will not interfere or inhibit those connections in any way.”
Sarek turned to face him then, the only sign of surprise on his face a slight twitch of his left eyelid; Spock would have missed it completely if he hadn’t been anticipating its appearance.
“Are these psionic connections comparable to a bond?” Sarek asked, tone deliberate and measured.
Spock pretended to consider the question; he had already established for himself that the pack bond was unique from any Vulcan bond, but no less important because of that.
“Yes.” he replied matter of factly.
“Would you allow me to examine these connections for myself?” Sarek asked, and this time it was Spock’s turn to be surprised. The tenuous parental bond he’d shared with Sarek as a young child had dissolved long before Spock had even finished his basic schooling; there had been speculation that his inability to maintain the bond with his own father was the source of his often unchecked aggression as a child.
While there may have been a kernel of truth in this, as an inexperienced and untrained telepath, Spock could hardly be held completely responsible for the connection's inevitable failure. Sarek was equally responsible, if not more so as the parent , for the nullification of their bond.
The idea of letting Sarek into his mind now filled him with some trepidation, and he unconsciously tugged on the pack bond for comfort; the reply was instantaneous, both Jim and Leonard deliberately broadcasting a heady mix of warm affection and gruff encouragement.
“You are communicating with them now.” Sarek declared, and his eyes finally showed some expression; a slight narrowing in confusion, or perhaps curiosity.
“I am.” Spock replied levelly. “I will permit this.”
Fascinating, how the Golic tongue did not develop to have the same emotional associations and connotations that Earth’s standard did, and yet there were still words with nuanced meaning; by ‘permitting’ Sarek’s entrance into his mind, Spock conveyed that it was out of a sense of obligation and duty that drove him to do so. Had he ‘allowed’ or ‘welcomed’ Sarek, the intent would have been very different.
Sarek only nodded in response, gesturing to the low bench beneath the garden window. Spock approached, and took his seat, facing Sarek and searching his face for any visible hint of what was going on in his father’s mind.
Ever the paradigm of Vulcan composure, Sarek’s face revealed nothing.
He sat opposite Spock and raised his hand in the traditional posture for a meld, reaching for Spock’s psi-points and intoning, “My mind to your mind…”
“...your thoughts to my thoughts.” Spock completed the ritualistic phrasing, and then he was no longer seeing the dimly lit office or the garden through the window, but the back of his eyelids and his own familiar mindscape.
Sarek was not very deep in the meld, allowing Spock time to adjust.
:You have not done this in some time.: Sarek stated, and the tone of his mind conveyed surprise and a small amount of concern; tinted ever so slightly with disdain.
:Not with a Vulcan.: Spock replied truthfully, neatly sidestepping his father’s query.
:May we continue? I wish to observe these ‘psionic connections’.: And oh, the distaste in Sarek’s mind at that particular phrase; as if Spock forming these connections somehow sullied him or lessened him in Sarek’s eyes.
With a pulse of mutinous pride, Spock mentally led the way deeper into his mind, intent on showing his father the error of his belief.
Pulling back the proverbial curtain of his mind, Spock allowed the meld to sink deeper, and then they were there; in Spock’s mind, with the strands and weave of the bond woven throughout his mindscape. He leaned into them, taking comfort from their presence; idly plucking at one that thrummed with Jim Jim Jim, smiling to himself when it snuggled into his touch.
Sarek’s mental gaze raked over the strands and his surprise was evident; it sparked and fizzed like a live wire that had been wrenched from a ship’s panel.
:How long has this connection been within you?: Sarek demanded, surprise fading and being replaced by something that tasted of caution and mild alarm.
The answer flowed between them aloud as Spock mentally calculated the time.
:Six days, twenty hours, and thirty one minutes.: Spock replied proudly.
Sarek mentally flinched away from this response, and before Spock could demand to know his issue, his father’s presence in his mind became heavy with displeasure.
:You have allowed this connection far too deep into your psyche in such a short time; how long have you known these people, prior to establishing such a connection?: Sarek scolded.
The exact number of his response, some few months at this point, was lost in the overwhelming disapproval that immediately radiated from Sarek. Faster than Spock could react, Sarek’s presence latched onto the bond, catching at a single strand and testing its give, to see how firmly rooted in Spock’s mind the weave was.
That strand was Leonard Leonard Leonard , and the reaction to Sarek’s meddling was immediate and, Spock would later reflect, vicious .
As Spock leapt to the defense of the pack bond, the weave itself roared to life, everything that was Jim lashing out and slicing into Sarek’s mind while it simultaneously shielded Spock and Leonard.
Sarek fled immediately, dropping out of the meld with a gasp; the sound of wet snarls and gnashing teeth echoing in Spock’s vacated mindscape.
A polite but hurried knock came at the door, loud in the suddenly silent room. “Ambassador, there is a James Kirk here to-”
Before the page could finish speaking, there was a crash at the door; the wood splintering and the antiquated lock skittering across the floor as the door was violently kicked open.
Jim stormed into the room with a furious looking Leonard on his heels, making a beeline for Spock, who rose to meet them. Spock was mildly disappointed when Jim stepped past Spock though, taking an aggressive stance between Spock and his father while Leonard latched onto Spock’s arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze.
“You are trespassing-” Sarek began cooly, but Jim cut him off.
“And you just assaulted my superior officer, so let’s not split hairs here.” Jim snarled, and his rage seemed to burn brighter now that he had a physical target. “What the hell were you doing to Spock?”
While seeing his intended come to his defense in such a manner was certainly pleasing to that primal warrior spirit in Spock’s mind, he did not, in fact, desire bloodshed on this day. Reaching for Jim’s arm where it hung deceptively loose and yet ready to strike out with sharpened talons at a moments notice, Spock took up Jim’s wrist and began to rub soothing circles into the pulse point there.
“Though I believe you have already met,” Spock began, his tone deliberately low in an effort to draw Jim’s focus back to himself. “Jim, this is Sarek, son of Skon.”
“Father, this is Jim Kirk.” he paused before proudly adding, “My intended.”
🌙
The only thing keeping Jim from dropping into a full shift and tearing Sarek’s throat out with his teeth, was the steady thrum of the pack bond; pulling back, grounding him in the here and now where Spock was fine, Bones was fine, and nobody needed to be torn to bits.
Yet.
He didn’t consider himself a violent person, not at his core; Jim actually believed in Starfleet’s talk first, shoot last mentality. But when that presence that was in Spock’s head had tried to interfere with the bond, when it grabbed Bones -
Jim took a deep breath, feeling that animalistic rage beginning to boil up again at the memory, but then his nose caught Spock’s scent. Focusing on that, on Spock , Jim tried to rein his anger in.
Spock smelled as wonderful as he usually did, if a little distressed. It was layered with Bones’s scent too, from where the doctor had grabbed him. Jim was grateful beyond belief that they’d left early for the meeting, had arrived just as Spock tugged on the bond, his nerves and distress sparking down the line-
But he was here now, and they were fine.
Jim let the mingled scents of home and forever and mine wash over him, settling his ire.
Sarek, wisely, remained silent.
When the older Vulcan made no move, either aggressive or otherwise, after Jim had been staring him down for nearly a full minute, he turned away. Jim turned back to Spock and Bones and threw an arm over each of them, pulling them in for an awkward six limbed hug.
Bones ran a hand up the back of his neck, and Jim didn’t know if he knew that the added protection of not leaving his neck exposed to the potential threat helped, but it did. Spock, for his part, tugged Jim closer, one hand clenched in the shirt at the small of Jim’s back while the other was slung over Bones’s shoulder.
“The hell was all that?’ Bones grumped. “Are all mind melds gonna be like that?”
“No,” Spock replied softly, his words meant just for the three of them. “That was an unusual and unanticipated outcome; I should have known better than to expose the bond to my father’s scrutiny. I apolo-”
Bones and Jim erupted in protestations simultaneously.
“Now now, don’t you go-”
“Don’t you dare apologize for what he did.” Jim whispered furiously over the doctor, pressing his forehead to Spock’s and staring into his eyes point blank. “That wasn’t your fault.”
When Spock tried to nod in understanding, he found out just how tightly snuggled in they were; he had to settle for a verbal response.
“Yes, Jim.”
“And no more melds.” Jim said firmly, throwing a venomous look over his shoulder at Sarek.
Spock’s immediate wave of despair and distress at Jim’s words hammered across the pack bond and had the two non-Vulcan’s flinching in response, before clinging in tighter to Spock.
Before either of them could offer verbal assurance though, a voice from the shattered doorway coughed politely in an entirely un-Vulcanlike manner before speaking.
“Perhaps if the meld were to be conducted by an old friend, might that assuage some of your concerns, young Jim?” the elderly Vulcan asked with a raised brow.
“Not-Spock!” Jim cried, relieved at the sight of a familiar face, even though he had his own Spock tucked in close to his chest.
It was Spock-from-another-timeline, the Vulcan half of the pair he’d found when stranded on Delta Vega. He looked much slimmer now that he wasn’t wearing a mountain of cold weather clothes, and Jim eyed his figure appreciatively; if this was any indication of what his Spock would look like in their old age…
“Hey, eyes where I can see them, mister.” barked a second voice as the human half of their pair stepped into the doorway.
The pack bond resonated with a similar emotion, and Spock’s scent had gone all green apple again for the first time in months. Jim leaned up and rubbed his cheek along Spock’s own, carefully and deliberately projecting appreciative possessiveness along the bond towards his Vulcan; the only Spock Jim wanted.
Appreciation with the barest hint of petulance was Spock’s response, and Jim hid a grin in the Vulcan’s shoulder as he buried his nose there.
Bones carefully extracted himself from the hold and equally as carefully stepped away from Sarek, not towards him.
“You’re the two from Delta Vega.” Bones said, crossing his arms and hiking a suspicious brow. “And it’s you that wants to poke around in Jim’s brain?”
“If that is agreeable. I studied with the Adepts at Gol, though I was summoned away by a higher calling before my training could be completed.” Not-Spock shot a downright smitten look at his human companion, Jim just catching the tail end of it as he took a step back from Spock.
“I will leave you to it.” Sarek said into the brief silence that followed. He moved carefully past Jim, Spock, and Bones, hesitating at the doorway; he turned back to address Spock. “Though you may find no value in my judgment-”
He paused.
“Rather, as your mother would say; for what it is worth, I believe you have found a good match. It is well that you have found someone with a… fervor, a passion, to match your own.”
The bonded pair at the door stepped aside to let Sarek through.
“That is all.”
And then he was gone, robes swishing down the hallway as the aid who’d awkwardly lingered beyond the doorway followed suit.
“Startin’ to think I don’t much care for that man.” Bones muttered, and Jim snorted in agreement.
“Would you like to proceed as planned?” Not-Spock asked as he and Kirk entered the room.
Spock hesitated, a pulse of query pressing along the bond, pleading for Jim’s acquiescence.
As if he could deny Spock anything at this point.
Jim nodded, giving his Vulcan a wolfish grin, eyes flashing gold as he stepped towards the center of the room.
“Let’s do this.”