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“Do you love this man?” If you provide a definition I might be better suited to answer.
“I… do not… understand.” A female voice comes out of the universal translator, confused but eager to learn.
“Is he important to you? More important than anything? Is he… as though he were a part of you?” Yes. The answer comes to him before he can even stop himself. Though this question is not Spock’s to answer. So instead he stands, silent and waiting.
“He is part of me.” The companion responds without hesitation, as if it were a simple fact. And even as the captain tries to explain the notion of human need for hardship and enrichment, the companion struggles against his humanity. Fights the notion of needing to let the man go.
“You regard the man merely as a toy. You amuse yourself with him.” This is a gamble and Jim knows it… a guess at best an attempt to anger the companion at worst.
“You are wrong.” The companion disagrees again, though this time, it is in the right to defend itself. “The man is the center of all things.” A complete devotion, Spock notes. He was quite certain of this phenomenon before, however having it been spoken out loud, is reassuring, at least to his personal theory. “I care for him.”
That was never in question. The companion, in one way or another, does indeed care for Cochrane, only he does not reciprocate these feelings. Usually, Spock would make a mental note of the illogic of this relationship, thank reality that he is only partly human and therefore separate from such issues. However the captain’s voice interrupts his thoughts mercilessly.
“But you can’t really love him.” He insists. “You haven’t the slightest knowledge of love, the total union of two people.” And he believes his words, truly and totally. “You are the companion, he is the man. You are two different things. You can’t join… You can’t… love.”
At that exact point, it is as if something broke inside of the Vulcan. It is an odd sensation, the feeling of wet eyelashes on dry skin became almost alien to him over time. It has been ages since Spock has allowed himself to cry and he of course stops himself now before the situation can develop any further. Blinks his eyes dry, straightens his posture and focuses on the scene in front of him. Kirk keeps talking, the companion listens now in complete silence, so does everyone else standing nearby.
But the damage has been done already. The companion, no matter what it tries to argue, knows just as well as Spock does that it has lost the verbal fight against the captain. The captain, who insists on explaining to the creature in front of him just how different it truly is from humans.
Is it? Spock’s mind tries to ask. It, just like the companion, fights this ugly notion. But Spock knows better than to argue with the facts laid out in front of him. And who better to explain the human feeling of love, this simple feeling that all humans seem to possess and speak on, than Jim Kirk. A man who feels with all that he is, loves with all that he can. What does someone like Spock know about the total union of two people? About the need for compatibility and belonging? You are two different things. His mind offers again, Jim’s sure voice ringing through Spock’s ears.
The man and his companion have been on this planet for more than a 100 years, have spent every waking moment in each other’s company and until the companion’s gender was revealed, they both seemed to enjoy their contact. In over a hundred years one could learn all there is to know about someone, adapt to their every need, like the companion has no doubt attempted to do. And yet, as the captain asserted, they are incompatible, inherently different from each other. Not fit for joining. Logically therefore, Jim must be referring to the Companion’s form, it’s way of life, it’s very nature.
After all he was just the companion, and Jim is the man.
—
To his credit (and Spock’s utter dismay), it takes Jim all of three hours to realize something is wrong. The two have been sitting in a practically deserted rec room for the past few minutes, Jim with a yogurt in a bowl and Spock with a PADD in his hand.
“Alright Spock what is it?” Jim throws the spoon into the bowl and focuses his attention on his first officer.
“I do not know what you mean, Captain.”
“Come on Spock.“ Jim exclaims. “You haven’t said a single word ever since we got back onto the ship. Which means something’s bothering you.”
No. The hollow hurt near his stomach isn’t bothering him, that’s not the word he’d use, but it is taking a considerable amount of Spock’s attention at the moment. He hasn’t realized he hasn’t been speaking for some time. “I was merely pondering the human need for emotion, Captain. I apologize if I have been inattentive to you.”
“What? Finally found definitive proof that we would all be better off without it, mister Spock?” Jim jokes and his face changes in that way of his, where you can see his smile even in his eyes.
“That. I regrettably can not prove, given the overwhelming amount of alien species on the galaxy who display them. They do, as I am sure you are well aware, puzzle me, however.”
Jim nodded a little, urging Spock to continue.
“Your definition of love. You equated it to compatibility earlier today.”
“Oh.” Jim took a mental step back. “Is this about the Companion?”
“Indeed.” Spock confessed. “You asked if it cared for mister Cochrane. If he is important to it ‘as if he were a part of it’ I believe was your exact wording.”
“Well mister Spock you seem to remember my words better than me. Yes. I said something along those lines. Why is it important?“
“Scientific curiosity, Captain.” Spock says, the words managing to hurt him from the inside. They shouldn’t be able to do that, and yet that is what Spock feels. Illogical. Ugly.
“Alright then. Ask away, mister science.” Jim teases.
“The companion and mister Cochrane have lived together on that planet for a hundred and five years before we ever stepped foot on it and revealed the Companion’s gender and desires. From my understanding the Companion has been caring for its… lover, for the entire time. Attempted, in its limited ways to accommodate him. Does that not show the companion’s devotion? It’s… compatibility, or at least a willingness for it were mister Cochrane to agree to it?”
“Where are you going with this Spock?”
“The companion was not compatible enough… not- similar enough, to be joined with the man until she herself took on a human female body. And yet. None of her actual feelings or the way in which she expressed them changed.” Spock tried to ignore the growing discomfort at his side as best he could but it continued to preoccupy him.
Jim considered him for a few silent seconds, before opening his mouth to respond. However in that exact moment, the wall mounted communicator device on the wall announced an incoming call. “Uhura to Captain Kirk.” Uhura announced.
With an apologetic smile on his face Jim stood up from his chair and answered the call. “Kirk here, what is it, Uhura?”
“Sir, I compiled all of the reports from your impromptu away mission, should I send them to you?”
“Yes Uhura, thank you.” Kirk pressed out the communications buttons and ended the call, then with a shrug of his shoulders turned back to Spock. “Well, duty calls. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut our moral dilemma short, sorry Spock.”
“Of course, Captain.” As Jim left the room, Spock grabbed Jim’s half eaten yogurt bowl thoughtlessly and brought it over to the matter dematerialiser.
—
Jim was never the best at falling asleep. Frankly, he was even worse at it than staying asleep, which, given that he was the captain of a starship who got woken up by a red alert at least once a week, was quite the accomplishment. But tonight was especially challenging.
Jim kept tossing and turning, his mind whirring with thoughts he couldn’t quite catch and emotions he couldn’t quite decipher. All he knew was that for some reason he was quite miserable.
After more than an hour of this, Jim assessed that he won’t sleep without some sort of help. Bones usually let him keep a hypo or two of sleeping aids but he’s recently run out of those and hasn’t gotten a refill yet. He could go to the medway and ask for one, but the personnel on duty weren’t exactly aware that their captain sometimes needed to be knocked out to actually get some sleep in, and that was not a conversation Jim particularly desired to have at the moment. Maybe Bones would still be awake? He always keeps his medical supplies on him anyways.
-
The corridor outside of the CMO’s quarters is abandoned and dead silent, marking the sound of the doorbell uncomfortably loud in comparison. The door opens moments later nonetheless, with a bleary-eyed McCoy on the other side of them.
“Jim.” He greets, stepping to the side to let his friend inside.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Jim accepts the invitation anyways, making his way into McCoy’s quarters and letting the door close behind him.
“Don’t mention it, what’s wrong?”
The realization comes to him only as he speaks up. “I had a conversation with Spock earlier.”
“And what did that pointy eared hobgoblin say?” Bones asks, motioning Jim to sit down at a table.
“No, no. It’s not like that.” Jim assures, then, with a sigh continues. “It’s about the Companion… I-“ He trails off, mentally ordering his own thoughts. “Bones when I told her that she can’t be with Cochrane… I told her it is because she is different from him. Because she isn’t human.”
“That you did.” Bones agreed, face stone cold apart from the remnants of sleep in his eyes.
“Yeah.” Jim remarked unhelpfully. He could say he didn’t know how the companion might react. He didn’t know she would take it literally. But that would be an unfair out- one which was too self important than to belong to the image of a Starfleet captain. He should have known, should have seen it coming. He could say he was weighing the companion’s single life against the five lives of himself and his crew. Considered the utility of all five of them leaving against the sadness he would cause to the Companion. But of course, looking at the outcome of his actions, that failed.
“The way I see it, Jim.” Bones, who has at some point sat down opposite of Jim, spoke up. “You are incredibly lucky.”
“Lucky, Bones? How?”
“Well, let’s see here. You pushed an alien life form to fundamentally change herself and conform to human standards just to be with Cochrane. The diplomat who we were supposed to send back to prevent a war is now permanently stuck on that planet and in the end we didn’t even manage to bring Cochrane back to civilization because he chose to stay behind.”
“How on earth is that lucky?”
“If you would let me finish.” McCoy said, with annoyance in his voice. “I spoke to the diplomat before she fell unconscious. She was burning up with fever but what she was really upset about in that moment was that she never felt loved by anyone else. She couldn’t understand why Cochrane was pushing the Companion away if it loved him. In joining with the Companion, they both got what they wanted. And… ignoring the way in which it happened, the Companion is happier now that she is in a human body than she was before. I mean you heard her yourself, she was excited about dirt under her feet and feeling the contact in holding hands.”
“It doesn’t feel very lucky.”
“Either way I’d say you lucked yourself out of a moral dilemma, instead of into one.”
“Doesn’t feel much better.”
“I’m not saying it is better. I’m just saying it could have been worse.”
“Thanks Bones…” Jim remarked, unimpressed.
“Well dammit Jim, what am I supposed to tell you?” Bones cried out suddenly. “That you did a good job? We both know you wouldn’t be here if that was the case.”
Jim flinched at the sharp words causing McCoy to immediately stop himself.
“Shit, Jim. I’m sorry-“ He said softly.
“No.” Jim shook his head, his eyes involuntarily closing shut. “No, you’re right.” He exhaled. “You’re right.”
“Jim?” Bones reached out a hand across the table towards his friend and captain.
“I’m fine.” Jim opened his eyes again, giving Bones a weak smile.
“Hey now…”
But Jim didn’t let him finish that sentence. “I came here to get some sleeping aid? I ran out and I need to wake up early tomorrow morning for a meeting.” All in all it was an obvious way of ending that conversation and leading the topic away, but it was all Jim had in him.
And McCoy, who stood up from his seat with a heavy sigh, seemed to understand that. Reaching for the medical supplies stashed in a cabinet in the bathroom, Bones took out a hypo with a white, milky substance inside and returned to Jim. “We all make mistakes, especially when we’re trying to avoid them. Remember that.” He handed the hypo to him.
Jim took it without looking, and with a nod made his way to the door leading to the corridor. There, he stopped and turned around. “You were right. About me forgetting I was taught to be a diplomat. Even when I tried to talk to the Companion, in my mind I was trying to make it concede to me instead of finding a middle ground.”
—
Jim’s morning was a hectic one. There was a whole lot of explanations that needed to be done and a whole new diplomat to be found and sent over to prevent the war… That is what this entire detour was originally about after all.
This meant that Jim spent nearly half of his, already early-starting, day in and out of meetings, hearings and negotiations. Then, that one busy day stretched into a busy week as the Enterprise rushed from one planet to another to pick up a different diplomat and deposited her to the site of conflict, where she could do her incredibly important piece-negotiating job.
But just when Jim thought he would finally get a moment of respite, another assignment came through- this time to transport an entire group of planetary delegates to yet another diplomatic conference, this time on Babbel. Preparations begin immediately, pushing Jim to think about all that needs to be arranged rather than his utter failure with the Companion.
There is one thing he did notice. Spock. Spock who, at least seemingly, spent less free time with Jim- not that Jim had much free time these days, anyways.
But it was as if Spock had drawn away from him. Jim was most likely making a big deal out of nothing. Spock was just as, if not more, busy than Jim with preparations and briefings and politics, and it isn’t like he and Jim weren’t talking at all- just less. Enough for Jim to notice.
But there was little time to do anything about this because suddenly there were alien delegates from all across the galaxy and Spock’s family, who by the way consists of a human mother and the Vulcan ambassador Sarek, on his ship and Jim had to deal with that.
In fact it wasn’t until he was lying in McCoy’s medbay and saw Spock and his father, both also lying in bio beds and commenting on the illogic of their human family member, did something click in his mind.
Spock was not fully Vulcan, nor was he human and yet, seeing him with his parents, Jim could finally see the influence of both. Spock, his first officer, his dear friend, was not human and yet, clearly, had so much humanity inside of him. Yet, despite all that, Jim got the specific feeling of distance from both of Spock’s parents in relation to their son. As if he somehow belonged to neither one of them.
-
The miracles of modern medicine did let Spock and Sarek leave sickbay only a few hours after the operation. Which, however, left Jim alone in a large empty room with McCoy.
”Alright, what is it?” The good doctor asked, while taking some more readings from Kirk’s biobed.
“What?” Jim took a second to realise he was being talked at.
“You’ve been exceptionally well behaved, which means there's something on your mind.”
“I don’t know, Bones.” Jim wanted to put his hands over his eyes but moving hurt at the moment. “Spock’s been talking to me less than usual lately, and today, with his parents- I don’t know, I just can’t get the feeling that something’s wrong, out of my system.”
“What do you mean, wrong?”
”Spock never said his mother was a human, right?” It wasn’t exactly a question, though Jim did want Bones to reassure his conviction.
”He said one of his ancestors was, but I didn’t realise it was his mother he was talking about.”
”Right.”
”What about it?”
“I know he tends to be secretive, but I feel like he’d usually tell us if we were about to receive his parents as visitors on the ship.”
“What are you getting at, Jim?” McCoy asked. He didn’t mean to be unkind, but the day was long and stressful and McCoy most definitely didn’t want to deal with this at the moment.
Jim sighed. “Forget it, Bones. It’s dumb.”
”No, I mean,” McCoy turned to face Jim’s bed, “if you think there’s a problem between you two, go talk to him about it. I can’t exactly help you.”
”I know. Sorry, Bones.”
”Eh, it’s allright.” McCoy waved his hand. ”it’s been a rough week, wasn’t it?“
-
Spock was grateful to be back in his quarters. Visits from his family thankfully happened incredibly sparsely now that he was on the Enterprise, but, much like it was the case today, they did unfortunately happen. And with them came the ever-present reminder of his father’s tolerance of Amanda’s emotions, despite his distaste for those very emotions in Spock.
His thoughts were suddenly distracted by the sound of a doorbell. Spock wasn’t particularly in the mood for visitors, however, it was quite likely that this was a professional call, and therefore one he should answer.
”Come.” He called, standing up from the chair behind his desk.
To his surprise the captain walked in.
”Captain, have you been released from sickbay already?”
”I was, can I come in?” Kirk seemed almost unsure of himself- an emotion Spock saw on him only rarely.
”Naturally.”
“Thank you,” Jim walked in, letting the door swoosh behind him. He probably should have prepared what he wanted to say before getting here… “I- wanted to thank you for your support today. Without you this would have all been a much larger disaster.”
”Thank you, captain, but I was merely following protocol.”
”What you did goes well beyond protocol, Spock.”
”Is it not protocol to always have a superior officer in charge of the vessel?”
”You could have handed control over to Scotty.” Jim suggested.
”He was preoccupied.”
This wasn’t false, but “your father was dying.”
Jim wasn’t exactly sure why he was arguing this point. It was obvious, and Spock’s clearly strained relationship with his father was not too hard to infer either.
“Is there a reason for your visit?” Spock asked instead.
“I just wanted to check in on you.” This wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.
“There is no reason for you to worry, captain. The surgery had no lasting ill effect on me.” Spock rejected the notion outright.
But Jim wouldn’t give up so easily. “That’s now what I meant. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me these past few weeks. Is there something wrong?”
Spock stayed silent for a long moment, clearly in thought, and Jim wondered if he maybe should have found a different way to approach the topic. Whatever it was, Spock didn’t seem too comfortable sharing.
“If you don’t want to-”
“Your definition of love, for the Companion, do you remember it?” Spock spoke up, suddenly, accidentally cutting Jim off. “Excuse me.” He added quickly when he realised what he’s done.
“It's all right, I wasn’t saying anything important." Jim assured him. Spock’s question was an odd one however, especially because this was the second time he’s brought this topic up. “And, to answer your question, no, I don’t.”
”’Is he important to you? As if he were a part of you’.” Spock repeated Jim’s words perfectly. How he remembered them after almost two weeks was a mystery. “Would you find this definition sufficient?”
“I don’t know Spock, it was a random definition I made up on the spot. What’s that got to do with anything?"
Spock suddenly straightened out, as if preparing for something. Then, his eyes moved away from Jim’s and towards the floor right next to him. Even with all this warning, however, Jim could never be prepared for the words that left Spock’s mouth next.
”Because I, Captain, am the companion. And you are the man.”
“Pardon?” Jim must have misheard. Or maybe he just really had no idea what Spock was talking about.
”You have met my parents today.” Spock said, refusing to explain the sudden topic shift. “My mother is human, she, much like you, suffers from the constant emotionalism which most Vulcans find themselves rejecting. My father, the Vulcan ambassador to Earth, is no exception to this rule, allowing no emotion into his life.”
“But he married your mother.” Jim argued.
”Precisely. It is the only source of emotion he has ever tolerated in his life. Through her he received her love, and she his. Despite the illogic of the emotion, they both share in it. The companion, too, does love mister Cochrane. She loved him long before she became human, long before the nature of her feelings became solidified by your definition.”
Spock took a breath, as if steadying himself, then continued. “Your definition is unique, it disregards the need for emotion, it equates love to importance, to need for protection and the experience of belonging. Those are universal concepts which I am capable of understanding and yet it is that very definition that you used to discourage the emotions I feel.”
The switch from the impersonal ‘she’ referring to the Companion to the personal ‘I’ happened seemingly by accident. As if Spock had not quite realised he was suddenly speaking on his own experiences rather than those of the alien, until he was done with his sentence.
Jim blinked. His mind raced to comprehend what just happened. And then he did.
oh.
“Oh.”
The exclamation left his lips on its own, the weight of it spilling into the room.
Spock fell silent in the aftermath of his proclamation. Jim could not blame him.
… Jim needed to say something. Oh he was such an idiot. Spock tried to have his conversation right after they returned to the Enterprise. That night Jim couldn’t sleep, feeling as if something was wrong and yet he wasn’t able to figure out what, despite the answer staring him in the face hours earlier.
“I called you a moral dilemma.” Jim realised out loud.
Spock didn’t respond, though Jim could see him move his head in a miniscule nod.
“You tried to tell me about this back then and I dismissed it as an ethical query."
“Indeed you did.” Spock said, his voice not betraying any of the emotion he was nonetheless definitely feeling.
Jim wanted to kick his past self. “When I told the Companion that she can’t know what love is, I was wrong. I was trying to get us off of the planet, not help her. And I might have ruined her life by forcing her to turn human, which is something I will have to live with. But it’s not how I want to have that conversation with you.”
Spock didn’t respond to that.
“Can I try again?” It was a dumb question. Life didn’t give a chance at a re-do. The companion was now a human, mortal, woman and there was nothing Jim could do about that. But maybe, just maybe, he could fix this with Spock. Maybe at least Spock could get the necessary apology.
Still, his first officer stayed silent. Though with his hand he motioned for Jim to continue.
It was a chance. It was a second chance despite the fact that Jim really didn’t deserve one and a chance he would take anyways. He would try to fix this the best he could.
”The Companion’s experiences mattered. No matter what I said, no matter how I defined it, she did love him, long before Cochrane ever knew about it. And that didn’t start mattering more just because she is a human now. I never should have told her that… I never should have told you that.”
Spock refused to meet Jim’s eyes, but his own eyes (Jim could see the corner of them) radiated a profound sense of sadness that Jim had never seen on his first officer before. As if something inside him had snapped some time ago and was now desperately attempting to bind itself back together, but the strings were too short now.
“As a captain I’m supposed to set up a precedent of how things should be, not only in the universe but on my ship. I failed to do that. I failed to do that today and I failed to do that two weeks ago, but I still need you to know that you don’t have to be just Human or just Vulcan, because the world is better and more diverse because you- the way you are now- are in it. I mean, I always thought I would reprimand anyone who ever made you feel less-than, but that someone became me, and I have to apologize for that. If you’ll let me, of course.”
“Your definition, captain. Does it hold?” Spock asked, adamant to get an answer.
“I don’t know. It does and it doesn’t. Love is supposed to be whatever you make it to be. There’s not supposed to be one definition for it. It’s supposed to be whatever you make it out to be and if that’s the sense of belonging and safety for you, then that’s all that matters.”
“Love is a concept I am yet to find a satisfying definition for. That is why I ask.” Spock explained.
“Is there someone you’d like to apply the concept to?”
“You already know this, captain.” Spock replied quickly, as if expecting the question.
The initial confusion didn’t even get to make it all the way to Jim’s facial expression before it got replaced by yet another wave of understanding.
‘I am the companion, you are the man.’ Spock’s words echoed through him like an earthquake through the ground.
“I-” Jim’s words were slow to reach him. “If you want this. I- I don’t need a definition, we don’t need to put it into words…”
“Given a lack of definition, Jim, I can not find the correct explanation for my feelings. At the current moment all I know is that I do feel, strongly.”
“The companion didn’t need one.” Jim tried. He desperately didn’t want to have to come up with another definition. That was the problem with them, they were too restrictive. Besides, Jim already gave one too many faulty ones on this particular topic. Love always came easy to him, he always just… knew, which made him particularly unhelpful in explaining it. “Her feelings for Cochrane were always there. She didn’t need me to come by and explain it to her.”
“And yet Cochrane never realised it until you did give it a definition.”
“That’s his fault.” Jim shrugged. “And, in our case, I suppose it is my fault. That’s what happens with fluid definitions, but, at least to me, that’s still so much better than restricting someone’s feelings by the rigidity of a definition. I don’t care if you don’t really know if what you feel is love or something else. I really don’t. If you would like it, we can just try to figure it out together. Not put any labels on it and see where it goes.”
“I believe I would quite like that, Jim.”