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Chapter Text

Spock had received a summons to Admiral Pike’s office and was curious as to what it was for. He could think of no reason whatsoever that the Admiral would need to speak to him. The Enterprise had been docked since it’s second mission with Captain Kirk at the helm, for two weeks, and he had made sure that his Captain had followed nearly all the rules. It had been hard, and he had almost lost his temper a time or two, but they had come back from their voyage in one piece and he thought that everything had gone according to plan.

Perhaps he had been mistaken.

He adjusted his uniform in the reflection of the mirrored doors of the transport to make sure he looked as immaculate as possible and then when they opened he stepped out onto the floor that held Admiral Pike’s office. He made his way to the office at a steady pace and knocked on the door with three efficient knocks. “Enter,” Admiral Pike said.

Spock opened the door and saw Admiral Pike at his desk, looking over a small stack of paperwork. “You wished to speak with me, Admiral?” he asked, tucking his cover under his arm.

Admiral Pike looked up and nodded, gesturing to the seat across from him on the other side of his desk. “Take a seat, Commander Spock,” he said before going back to the paperwork for a moment. Spock moved to the seat he had been motioned to and sat down. He had the feeling that if he were in trouble, Admiral Pike would want him to stand, so perhaps the reason for this visit was not an administrative one. That left a myriad of other reasons, all of which were a mystery. After another moment of Admiral Pike going through the paperwork, he stopped and rested his arms on his desk and laced his hands together. “Have you ever heard of a group home called Emiliani House?”

Spock slowly shook his head. “I have not,” he said.

“It’s a home for children who are considered unadoptable, named after the Catholic patron saint of abandoned children, St. Jerome Emiliani,” Admiral Pike said. “Until twenty years ago they were strictly humans only, but the church who funded the house went bankrupt, and then a private organization took over and opened it up to children of any species who were considered unadoptable. When they did that, the organization reached out to Starfleet to start a mentorship program to see if they could get some of the older children with potential to come into the Academy. It’s actually done pretty well.”

Spock nodded slowly, not sure what this had to do with him. “Admiral, this is an admirable program, but I do not see why I have been brought here today for you to tell me about it.”

“They’ve never had a Vulcan at the house, until a few weeks ago,” Admiral Pike said. “And he’s like you. Half-Vulcan, half-human.”

Spock felt surprised at that. As far as he had known, he was the only half-human, half-Vulcan in the universe. No other Vulcan would dare sully themselves by mating with a human. His father had been looked down upon by his kind in many respects for daring to fall in love with a human, much less procreating with her and allowing the spawn to be raised among purebred Vulcans. To know there was another such as he was extraordinary. “Have you reached out to my father or Spock Prime?” he asked.

Admiral Pike nodded. “There is interest in bringing him to New Vulcan, but no Vulcan family on the planet is willing to take custody of the child, and the administrators at Emiliani House are leery of giving him to the custody of Spock Prime or Sarek, though both have expressed interest in raising the child to ensure he is with his own kind. As this is a unique situation, with the near decimation of your race, they are willing to make concessions, but it will take time. In the meantime, they have asked if you would be interested in being a mentor to the young boy so that he may be around a Vulcan to learn more about your culture. And, also, so that he may talk to someone who is not entirely Vulcan.”

Spock was silent for a long moment. He was not quite sure what to do or say, or even what to think. He knew, logically, that he should guide this boy in things. It was what would be done for him in this situation. But the fact the boy was of a like kind, that he was not fully Vulcan like him...it was peculiar and strange and at the moment logic was escaping him. “May I have time to consider things, Admiral?” he asked.

“Of course,” Admiral Pike said with a nod. “I know this is all kind of a shock, and I probably dumped it on you. I could have phrased it better or eased you into it more. I’m sorry about that.”

“No, you did your best,” Spock said. He reached for the cover he had set on the chair beside him and tucked it under his arm again and then stood. He began to head towards the door and then paused with his hand hovering above the handle. “Admiral?”

“Yes, Commander?” Admiral Pike asked.

“If you were in my position, what course of action would you be inclined to take?” he asked, turning to look at the Admiral.

Admiral Pike leaned back in his seat. “No kid should be in a place like that without a friendly ear or a person who cares,” he said after a moment. “And someone who’s different, and especially someone who’s different from everyone else of his race, could definitely use the friendly ear of someone else like him. If I was you, I’d take the mentor position and help him however you can Maybe it won’t be much, but every little bit helps.”

Spock nodded, then turned and let himself out. The Admiral had a point. If he had had someone who had taken the time to show an interest in him, his life as a child may have been easier. It was not the way Vulcans were, but perhaps the half-human part of him could make a difference for this child. Perhaps that would be the logical thing to do in this situation.

Chapter Text

He made his way back to the apartment he shared with Nyota. He had not been sure that they should be open about their relationship at first, but after everything that had happened with Nero and the fact that their Captain was aware and it had been recorded in the logs and no one had reprimanded him formally had convinced him that they could be open. He was not sure why they had not been penalized, but he was sure that with the decimation of the Academy after Nero’s attack his liaison with Nyota was considered of little consequence compared to other punishable offenses. He was thankful for that because his relationship with her grounded him in a way that many other things in his life did not, and being able to be open about it was quite welcome.

He let himself in and saw that she was already home, busy making them dinner. While they had the replicator she preferred to cook and he found her preferred that himself. It reminded him of his mother and home, and those were pleasing memories of his childhood that he liked to keep close. He liked to think that his mother would have liked Nyota more had she known she was his girlfriend instead of simply his student when she had been introduced to Nyota on a rare visit to Starfleet Academy. But he supposed he would never know now.

“I am home,” he said, watching her turn and give him a grin.

“I’m glad,” she replied, moving away from the stove and giving him a soft kiss. He held her close for longer than she had expected, and she looked up at him with some confusion. “Are you alright, Spock?”

He nodded. “Yes. Admiral Pike did not have any problems with me personally. He had a request for me. It is not particularly troubling, but I find myself...conflicted.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Let me get back to the food and then we can talk,” she said. “I know you don’t like very spicy things, so it’s chicken substitute and dumplings. I want it to taste like chicken and biscuits, but more on the bland side.”

Spock nodded. Uhura had a vast culinary expertise, knowing how to make dishes not only from all over Earth but from other planets as well, and she was extremely good at cooking dishes that were well suited to his palate. Nothing too spicy but things that reminded him of the dishes his mother had made that had the Southern flair to them and still suited to his vegetarian tastes. He appreciated that. He moved to the stools that they had nearby the kitchen area when he let her go and she returned to her cooking. “Admiral Pike told me that there is a half-human, half-Vulcan boy at the orphanage that is associated with Starfleet Academy that they are trying to have taken to New Vulcan,” he said. “The process is slow going, but they would like me to interact with him until such time as e can be transferred into the custody of my father or Spock Prime.”

Uhura turned her body so she could keep an eye on the food but also look at Spock. “I see,” she said. “Is it something you want to do?”

“It would be beneficial to him,” Spock said.

“Yes, but do you want to do it?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment. “I...do not know,” he replied quietly. “I still struggle with accepting the duality of my heritage at times. I do not know if I can give the correct guidance to another such as myself. But at the same time, I know what it is like to struggle, and I do not think he should have to feel alone.”

“Do you know how old he is?” she asked.

Spock shook his head. “No. It was implied that he was young, however.”

She was quiet for a moment. “It’s your decision, in the end, Spock, but I think it could be a good thing. You’ve always thought you were the only one like yourself, and now there’s another half-human half-Vulcan out there? Maybe meeting him just once will be enough for a start. If you can’t see him again, you’ll at least have met him. And if you go back, then maybe you’ll get a good mentorship out of it, and he’ll get something, too.”

“Perhaps,” he said with a nod. He was quiet for a few moments. “Is it wrong that I am upset that he was abandoned without first having met him?”

“No,” she said vehemently. “Absolutely not. You know how Vulcans are and you know how lucky you are that your mother and father were different.”

“Yes,” he said. “I was luckier than this child.” He knew then, that he would go see the child, spend time with him at least once. Since he had been as lucky as he was with his mother and father being there for him as long as they had, giving him their love and guidance for as long as they had in his life, he would try his best to do something similar for this child if he could. He deserved that in his life as well. He got up and moved behind Uhura, leaning over and kissing the top of her head. “Thank you, Nyota. As always, your insight has been immeasurably helpful.”

“I do what I can,” she said, leaning back into him slightly. “Dinner should be ready shortly. “Are you very hungry?”

“Not very, but I will eat as much as I can,” he said. “I know you have worked hard to make tonight’s meal.”

“Good,” she said, turning to look up at him with a smile. He gave her a soft smile back, and then leaned in and kissed her softly. He was glad that he had found her, had found what his father had found in his mother and would cherish it for as long as he could. And if he was lucky, he would help make sure this child that he was being asked to mentor might have the chance to find happiness in his life in the future. Maybe not in this way, but he would show the child that it was possible to find happiness even if right now he didn’t think that there was any hope. He wasn’t sure what the boy’s situation was, but he hoped whatever it was, he could bring something to it to improve it and help make it better.

Chapter Text

Spock had debated for some time whether to wear his Starfleet uniform or his casual clothing to meet the child in the orphanage, but at the advice of Nyota, he went with the casual clothing in the end. She had said that the Starfleet uniform might be too foreboding and cold, and if he was around people who were normally in casual clothes, if that was how the orphanage staff and volunteers dressed, then it might be less of a shock to see him in those type of clothes. As he entered the orphanage and saw the staff dressed in clothing that was of a much more casual nature than uniforms, he had felt that he had made the right choice.

He approached the front desk and was directed to the head of the orphanage, and after a brief chat, he was directed to a room where there was a solitary bed with a young boy sitting upon it. Even though the boy was not facing him, he could see the familiar shape of the ears and the close-cropped black hair. They were left alone, with the head of the orphanage shutting the door behind them, and Spock stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He had been told the boy had no proper Vulcan name, as he had been abandoned at birth and lived in the foster care system ever since, and was called Paul, as it sounded close to a Vulcan name. “Paul?” he asked quietly.

The boy did not turn around. “Commander Spock?” he asked. His voice sounded different than Spock’s own. It still had that sense of detachment, that cool tone, but there was a sense of curiosity behind it as well that sounded foreign to his ears. It seemed as though Paul had more human qualities in him than Spock had ever had, though having grown up around humans primarily, he supposed that should have been expected.

“Yes,” Spock said. “I am Commander Spock.” That got the boy to turn around and Spock felt he was almost looking into a mirror. There were physical differences, of course, but there were also more similarities than he could catalog at first glance. “I had never thought that I would meet someone else like myself.”

“I had heard about you, but I never thought I would get to meet you,” Paul said. He began to fidget a bit with his hands. Spock was surprised; Vulcans were usually calm and stoic and Paul did not seem to have those traits. He wondered what this child had been through in his short life. He appeared to be only ten or eleven years old, older than Spock had expected but not yet a teenager. Still, he was old enough to have been through enough to have it have affected him, Spock realized. Even though neither of them were typical Vulcans, he was even less Vulcan than Spock was and infinitely more human.

“How did you hear of me?” Spock asked curiously, gesturing to the spot next to him on the bed. Paul nodded and he sat down.

“There are not many like us,” Paul said. “And no one in Starfleet other than you. And you were instrumental in stopping Nero and you worked with James T. Kirk. You are amazing.” There was a sense of awe in his voice and Spock felt a hint of a smile tugging on his face. He was not used to being the object of someone’s admiration, usually used to seeing that place of dubious honor going to Captain Kirk.

“I am no hero,” Spock said. “I merely did what needed to be done to save the lives of many. But it does not hurt to look up to people who are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice if needed.”

Paul nodded. “And if they are like me, that’s better.” He looked down at his hand. “You grew up on Vulcan?”

“Yes, I did,” Spock said with a nod. “Before it was destroyed.”

“What was it like?” Paul asked.

Spock thought for a moment. He had not really thought about Vulcan in some time, focusing more on the present and the future than the past. There were bits of the past that were painful, and he decided not to share them with Paul, but slowly he began to speak, describing the planet and the people, the culture and the type of life he had lived. He watched Paul and saw that he slowly began to relax and even began to ask questions as he seemed to grow more comfortable with him. And he too found himself growing more comfortable with Paul, finding himself showing some emotion he normally did not show.

When he was finishing up there was a knock on the door, and the head of the orphanage stuck his head in, letting Spock know it was almost time for Paul to have lunch. Spock saw Paul make a face as he nodded and when the door shut he turned to him. “The food is not to your liking?” Spock asked.

“It never tastes right,” Paul said with a nod.

“Vulcans have a sensitive palette,” Spock said. “Perhaps I can talk to someone about foods that they could make for you that would be more acceptable for you.”

Paul’s eyes brightened at that. “I would like that,” he said.

“Are there other things you need?” Spock asked.

“I am often too cold,” Paul said after some thought. “And my clothing feels too...light.”

Spock nodded. He knew exactly the problems that Paul spoke of. He preferred heavier clothing and garments that kept heat in; the cool temperatures of San Francisco were very unlike the warmth of Vulcan, and even though Paul had been acclimated to it his physiology would want him to be in warmer temperatures because his body would crave warmth. “I will see what I can do to get you warmer and heavier clothing. If you have other concerns, we can go over them the next time I visit. Perhaps next week?”

Paul nodded, a bit more emphatically than Spock ever had, even when he was excited as a child. “I look forward to it,” he said.

“Then I will return next week,” Spock said. He stood and then nodded to Paul. “Rom-halan. That means ‘farewell’ in Vulcan.”

“How do you say hello?” Paul asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Tonk’peh,” Spock said.

“Tonk’peh,” Paul said, running it over his tongue. “Could you teach me Vulcan?”

“I can try,” Spock said. “I will see you next week, Paul.”

“Rom-halan, Commander Spock,” Paul said as Spock made his way to the door. He smiled faintly as he opened the door, glad he had decided to come and already mentally beginning to make lists of where to go to get the things he needed to help make Paul’s life easier at the orphanage. He would do whatever it took to help him, and that was a promise he would keep no matter what.

Chapter Text

He could not quite describe the sensation he felt when he returned home that evening after the visit. He had attempted to busy himself with duties he had while they were docked in San Francisco, but he could not focus entirely on them, a situation he was not used to. His mind would wander to the situation with Paul, and ways to help make his experience in the human orphanage better. It was not a situation he himself had had to endure, so there were things he had no idea about, but the food and clothing he was sure he could change. He had thought about running some ideas by Doctor McCoy but he was unavailable to him that afternoon, so that would have to wait.

However, he knew Nyota would be a good listener, and she would, of course, have questions about the visit over their regular dinner.

He arrived home early, as not having the ability to concentrate had been more of a nuisance than he had expected, and he caught her making their meal, humming along to a classical singer’s music he idly recognized as being performed by Beyonce. He took a few moments to stay back and watch her dance around the kitchen, her hips swaying in time with the music, and admittedly he wondered if perhaps there may be other things he could be hungry for and whether the conversation could be put off until later.

“I know when I’m being ogled, Spock,” she said, breaking him out of his daze, and she looked over her shoulder with a smile on her face. She went to the device playing the music and turned the volume down as he came into the kitchen, then came over to him and gave him a soft kiss. “So? How was it?”

“Interesting,” he said. “Not as hard as I had thought.”

“Good,” she said, giving him a smile. “You’re going back?”

Spock nodded. “Hopefully with things that will make his stay at the orphanage easier. He is having a hard time adapting.”

“How so?” she asked, moving away from him and turning her attention back towards the food. It looked as though she was browning cubes of tofu to be used in something. Judging by the vegetables on the cutting board, most likely a stir fry of some sort. Food like this might appeal to Paul, he imagined.

“He is having a hard time with the diet there,” Spock said. “I imagine it is not vegetarian-friendly, and the spice level is not to his liking. Also, he has not acclimated well to the climate, which is understandable. It took time for me to become accustomed and there are still days I am not used to it.”

She looked at him. “If I start gathering recipes of the food I make for you, do you think they’ll make them for him?” Nyota asked. “And I can send over some of the spices your father gives us. I mean, it isn’t hard to get more, is it?”

Spock was quiet for a moment. He had not thought to ask his father for help in this situation, but perhaps he could. Making the food more palatable would be a start, especially if the thought was to have someone like his father or Ambassador Spock end up adopting the boy. Both had experience with half-human/half-Vulcan children, either by raising or being one, and they could offer some other additional help. But for some reason he was reluctant. He was asked to mentor Paul, and he wanted the chance to do it on his own. “We can send some of our stores and, should we need more, we can ask my father for some,” he said finally.

She nodded. “Alright. Then I’ll get around to writing down some of the recipes tonight. Is there anything he is particularly fond of?”

“I hadn’t thought to ask,” Spock said, a bit of a sheepish tone in his voice.

She waved her free hand at that. “Then I’ll just go with your basic dietary habits. Figure that tofu should be a staple, plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables, avoid chocolate if they don’t want him drunk...that sort of thing.”

“A wise decision,” Spock said with a nod.

“And if you’re looking for clothing, I know Scotty was telling me about this new line of clothing that was developed by some Starfleet Academy students that is supposed to adjust to the temperatures of the people wearing it. He was going on about it in scientific terms, but supposedly for people like you, from desert planets, if you have to stay in climates like this, you would feel like you’re at home on Vulcan without having to wear a million layers. Programmable clothes. And he said it was fashionable. For a teenager, that might be better than what you would pick out.” She paused. "Is he a teenager?"

"No, though not considerably younger."

"Good. Kids are really picky and you, Spock, dress too much like a grown-up."

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you saying there is something wrong with my taste in clothing, Nyota?”

“No, dear. You dress perfectly well for a grown man. But for a pre-teen, it would be boring.” She turned and gave him a grin. “Get me Paul’s sizes and I’ll talk to Scotty and we’ll see what we can do. I’m sure I can get it for a discount if I tell them it’s for a good cause. Oh! Make sure you find out what colors he likes, too.”

Spock was quiet for a moment and then moved behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and bending his head to press a kiss into her hair. “There are times you astound me, Nyota.”

“Well, I love you, Spock,” she said, pressing back into him slightly. “And if you care about something, I want to care about it too.”

He smiled slightly at that. “I love you too,” he said simply, squeezing her shoulders for a moment before letting go. He knew he was lucky, far luckier than he thought he deserved sometimes, and it was days like this that it showed. Perhaps there was a reason they had met and fate had played out as it had. All he knew was that he was grateful it had because he wanted no one but her by his side.

Chapter Text

The clothing that Nyota had procured for Paul was ready after Spock had had two more visits with Paul at the orphanage. He had yet to see the special accommodations that he had suggested put into place, and he was concerned. They had asked for his help, specifically because he was a Vulcan/human hybrid, so why were they not instituting the changes that he had recommended? It was peculiar.

There was some time between his third visit and his fourth, as he had needed to run a diplomatic errand to New Vulcan. He had avoided both his father and his alternate self because he did not want questions about Paul. For some reason, he was keeping this involvement with the child to a few people, mostly what Nyota referred to as his “found family,” various members of the Enterprise crew. Scotty had been involved in procuring the clothing and he and Nyota had spent weeks deciding what was “cool” enough for a pre-teenager. He carried the clothing in a bag now and hoped Paul found it suitable.

He went into Paul’s room and saw him curled into a ball on his side, moaning slightly. Spock was alarmed and set the bag on the floor before moving more quickly than usual to his bedside. “Paul? What has happened?”

“Something I ate made me feel ill,” he said, and Spock could see he was sweating at his brow. “Too spicy.”

It might not have been too spicy, per se, as it was simply the wrong spices, Spock surmised. He knew what needed to be done and felt...anger. Not the overwhelming anger that had been brought about at the loss of his mother and Jim’s needling, but anger that this boy was being put into discomfort needlessly. He deserved better.

“I will return with competent medical help,” he said. The orphanage was not far away from where Dr. McCoy lived, and he left the orphanage and made his way there quickly, banging on the door with an urgency he had not realized he truly felt. The door swung open and normally he would enjoy the shocked look on Dr. McCoy’s face, but he did not have time to be petty. “My ward needs you.”

McCoy frowned. “The kid in the orphanage?”

Spock nodded. “You have the most experience with my type of physiology. He is ill and in pain. I think certain spices have poisoned him.”

McCoy’s eyes widened and he nodded. He understood the seriousness of the situation as well and went back into his apartment to grab a travel-sized medical bag, then stopped and went to a closet to grab a different bag as well. “Do you have any idea what he ate?”

Spock shook his head. “None, Doctor.”

“Damn,” he said. “As far as I know, full-blooded Vulcans can tolerate these antidotes to most of the food sensitivities they have, but we’ve never tried them on you before. You have the sense to be careful what you put in your mouth. What the hell is that orphanage thinking? He’s a hybrid alien, of which there’s only a handful in existence. You told them about his dietary needs, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Spock said.

“I swear, I’ll rip some heads off if anything permanent happens to this kid.” He stepped out of his apartment and then locked the door behind him. “Let’s go.”

They made their way back to the orphanage, traveling quickly in Spock’s personal conveyance, and when they got there McCoy let Spock lead him to Paul’s room. The green tinge on Paul’s skin had gotten darker and Spock himself knew that was not a good sign. While McCoy asked Paul a series of questions, Spock knew there was only one other person who might have more knowledge than the good Doctor.

He went to a quieter part of the room and opened his communicator. Scotty had fiddled with it so it had the ability to reach New Vulcan on its own, and that was something he was quite thankful for. His father answered after just a moment. “Spock?”

“Did I ever have adverse reactions to foods that Mother would cook?” he asked.

“Once, when she made something with poppy seed. You had a horrendous reaction. It went away with time but it was an agonizing process.”

“Doctor,” Spock said, looking at McCoy. “Ask Paul if he ingested poppy seeds.”

McCoy turned to the boy, still taking his vitals, and then nodded. “Yeah, he did.”

Spock nodded. “It will clear on its own in time, but it will be an agonizing process, according to my father.”

“This kid needs to be somewhere else while he recovers,” McCoy said. “I can take him to the Academy medical bay.”

“He simply needs rest and quite a large amount of cold water,” Sarek said from the communicator. “I’m sure you can provide that, both you and your mate, Spock.”

Spock frowned. “That is all he needs?”

“It is derived from a plant that can, in some instances, mimic hallucinogenic drugs in some species. Vulcans are one of them. As your ward is half-human, the effect is less hallucinogenic but still unpleasant. Take him into your home, S’chinn T’gai. For an extended period, if need be.”

“Do you think that is wise?” Spock asked his father, frowning.

“I think it will cause a needless incident like this from being repeated.” There was a pause. “I will send more Vulcan recipes that your mother used for you to Lieutenant Uhura. I think she will find them easy enough to make.”

“Thank you, father,” he said.

“This is a good thing you are doing,” Sarek said, his tone softening in a way Spock rarely heard. “Take care of him.” Then he ended the call.

Spock looked at the communicator and then at Paul, being tended to by McCoy. He remembered how his mother felt having Michael in their home, and how his father had always been more visibly comfortable with his fellow full-blooded Vulcans, and how he had felt he fit in with no part of his family because he was never fully human or fully Vulcan. Could he offer something better for Paul? And then he knew before his inner voice attempted to answer the question that he would try his best to because he did not want the boy to be in pain anymore. “Doctor McCoy, help me do what we must to get Paul transitioned into my home,” he said. “Find a way to convince Admiral Pike to let me take Paul home to my home. Using bullying techniques if needed. I will not allow this to stand.”

He watched McCoy give him a grin before turning back to Paul and, for a moment, felt that perhaps he had done some small measure of repair to his relationship with the good doctor. Only time would tell, as it would for Paul.

Chapter Text

“He’s sleeping,” Nyota said when she came out of the bedroom that Paul was using. It had gone all the way up to Admiral Marcus and Spock Prime simultaneously in order to get custody of Paul given to Spock immediately, but he had been settled into Spock and Nyota’s apartment within five hours of the visit. Nyota had hung the clothing up in the room while they waited for word on whether he would be allowed to care for the boy, as though she knew he would, and she had immediately started tending to Paul’s needs the minute he crossed the threshold.

To be honest, Spock had never been surer that beginning a relationship with Nyota all that time ago had been the best course of action. Once again he thanked his girlfriend’s stubbornness to get transferred onto the Enterprise with him that fateful day. He did not want to contemplate a future without her.

“How is he?” Spock asked, waiting for her to sit next to him.

“I made sure there was a pitcher of cold water and a glass next to him. I even put a straw in it to make drinking it easier. He shakes and starts and moans a little, but the medication Leonard gave him seems to have helped a bit.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “If your father’s right and he’s fine in a few days, are you sending him back?”

“No,” Spock said in a firm voice. “They would not implement his accommodations and I do not trust them to do so after this. We will foster him until a home can be found for him on New Vulcan.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding against his shoulder. She reached over for his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “Do you think it will take a while?”

Spock frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just...nice...having someone else here. A child.”

He pulled away and looked at her. “Do you want children, Nyota?”

“I do, but I didn’t think you did,” she said. “You never mentioned it before so I just assumed...”

“For us to have children of our own would be a hardship,” he said. “It is very rare a child is conceived between a Vulcan and human without medical help. For it to be a human and a Vulcan/human hybrid is unheard of.”

“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand. “But there could always be adoption when we leave the Enterprise. If we aren’t too old.”

Spock nodded. “I would be honored to raise a family with you, Nyota, however we may acquire one.”

“You never really talk about your family,” she said. “I met your mother, before...” She trailed off and then regrouped. “And your father seems to like me. But your siblings? You never talk of them.”

“Sybok is an outcast,” he said. “Fully blooded Vulcan who eschews the restraints on emotions and embraces them fully. He is...not welcome. Not even now, with the near destruction of the species. Our relationship was not as kind as it could have been. Our father did not help that.” He got a small smile on his face. “Michael, though...I am surprised you do not remember her from current history classes at the Academy.”

Nyota frowned, and then her eyes widened. “Michael Burnham? You’re related to her? I always assumed you had two brothers.”

“No, a half-brother and a human sister, adopted into our family. A brother and a sister. I never fit in with either of them fully, but I have a fondness for Michael. Without her influence, I would not have applied to Starfleet. My father was...most displeased. But they have a special bond, as she had with my mother. He has forgiven her.”

Nyota lifted her head up and glanced at Paul’s room. “You have an interesting family,” she said when she set her head back down.

“And I suppose this includes Jim, Doctor McCoy and the others?” he asked. “You say they are our found family.”

“I suppose they are.,” she said with a smile. “And Ben and Demora and Joanna, too, even though we don’t see them much.”

Spock thought a moment. “Perhaps I could ask Lieutenant Sulu for parenting advice, while we have Paul in our care.”

Nyota chuckled and lifted her head up again. “You’re better off asking Bones. Joanna isn’t that much younger than Paul, I don’t think, and he’d have more ideas.” He made a face and Nyota laughed even harder. “Oh, the look on your face!”

“He does not like me,” Spock said.

“He does,” she replied. “And now you’re both parents. With Sulu, you guys can start a club.” She framed his face in her hands and kissed him softly. “And if you let women members join, I’ll be the fourth member of the quartet.”

“You are always welcome to join me anywhere,” Spock said softly.

“If that so?” she asked. “How about our bed? We can take turns getting up to check on Paul if we go to sleep now.”

“That is an excellent suggestion,” he said before kissing her again, a tender kiss. She truly did bring out the best of his human emotions, he realized. He was better with her, and one day he would make sure she knew that in the best possible way. He just had to figure out how to tell her. That was the hard part.

Chapter Text

It was nearly two days later when Paul shuffled out of the room given to him, moving sluggishly but not in pained movements. He yawned and then looked around. “Where am I?” he asked in a sleep-tinged voice.

“A temporary home with myself and my girlfriend,” Spock said from the table where he and Nyota had been eating dinner. “Would you care to join us? We are eating our evening meal.”

“Is it...safe?” he asked hesitantly.

Spock nodded. “Nyota is nearly as proficient in cooking Vulcan foods as she is human foods. She has created many variations of recipes that taste quite good and are beneficial to a Vulcan diet.”

Nyota lifted up her hand and waved. “Hi. We’re having a beef stew made with beef substitute and a vegetable broth that’s thickened with flour. Lots of vegetables in it. Spock’s had two bowls already tonight.”

Paul’s eyes widened. “You can eat that much?”

“Of the food Nyota prepares? Yes,” he said.

“If your stomach still feels off, I can whip up something else,” Nyota said as she stood up. “Vegetable soup? A clear vegetable broth with some of the vegetables I cooked that didn’t make it into the beef stew?

“I would appreciate that,” Paul said with a nod, coming closer to the table. “May I?”

“Of course. For now, this is your home,” Spock said.

“For now?”

“I did not trust the orphanage to administer to your needs properly, but my father and my alternate self are still attempting to find a placement for you on New Vulcan.” Paul pulled out a seat and sat down as Nyota went into the kitchen. “But until a suitable placement is found, you are our guest.”

“Thank you,” Paul said.

“Do you like the clothing?” Nyota asked. “If you do, we can get you more in other styles and colors.”

“It is beyond adequate,” Paul said with a smile. “I like the dark colors with blue accents. It reminds me of a science officer’s uniform.”

Spock gave him a small smile. “I had not thought of it in that way, but it does.”

“How long do you think I will be staying here?” Paul asked.

“We don’t know,” Nyota said. “But while you’re here, if there’s anything you need, let us know. Spock teaches at the Academy during the day so it will be you and me for the most part.” Then she stopped making the soup and looked over at Paul. “Spock said you wanted to learn Vulcan. I know a great place where you can practice with someone who’s more fluent than I am when Spock isn’t around.”

“That would be good,” Paul said. “Are they Vulcan?”

Nyota nodded. “Yes. She was my instructor at the Academy. She, too, is married to a non-Vulcan. An Orion woman. Between the two of them, they could teach you any language you’d like.”

“Really?” Paul asked, sounding eager.

“Why don’t I set up a weekly lesson with them while Spock teaches you Vulcan here? Is there a language you’d like to learn?”

“Is there one you like best?” he asked.

She smiled. “Swahili. It’s a human language from Africa. My parents are of African descent and I know many African languages, but Swahili was always my favorite.”

“Do your friends know that one?”

“Not as well as I do. But we can start with those two and then when you want to practice your Vulcan with someone else we’ll ask for their help. How does that sound?”

“That sounds excellent,” Paul said.

Spock watched the conversation with a sense of pride and realized that, perhaps, having Nyota’s help would be even more invaluable than he had perhaps realized. He had not seen Paul look this happy in any of their prior visits, and it was a good thing for him to be excited about the future. He knew he was, at least, and that was something.

Chapter Text

Paul seemed to be adjusting well in the first few weeks of him staying in his temporary home, but Spock was not sure. He felt he could do better. There was no use reaching out to his sister for advice because, as a human, her needs were different, and Nyota was there for that perspective. He did not trust any advice his brother might give for this situation. And his mother was no longer with them.

Which left Spock Prime and his father, really.

He kept his distance from his alternate self, mostly because he would admit that sometimes their conversations gave him what Doctor McCoy would call “the heebie-jeebies,” knowing that he knew parts of his life intimately well but in a whole different way, knowing different versions of his friends and family. It was an unusual experience and he wasn’t overly fond of the situation when he was put in it. And it did not help that, even with altered pasts, some things remained strangely the same, such as the assemblage of the crew of the USS Enterprise that consisted of the same versions of people in both universes. That made him...uneasy.

So his father would have to suffice.

It had begun when Nyota suggested they invite Sarek from New Vulcan to San Francisco for a visit. Spock felt his eyebrow had quite possibly raised right into his hairline at the suggestion but Paul had seemed eager to meet a full-blooded Vulcan, as he had never met his parents and most families fostering him had been human. To Paul, this would seem to be a part of his heritage, and for Paul’s furthering education in the ways of the Vulcans, who would be better than his father?

Sarek agreed, surprisingly, and arrived for dinner the first night, speaking to Paul in English and teaching him various things in Vulcan that his own lessons had not gotten to. As they did not sleep much, the three of them stayed up all night talking and teaching Paul about what Vulcan was like while Sarek began to talk about New Vulcan as well. The more Spock heard, however, the more unsure he was that it would be the best environment for Paul. It sounded like Paul would be in much the same environment he had grown up in, and with there being fewer Vulcans in existence now, the addition of a half-blood would disrupt things more than it would if Paul stayed on Earth.

Their evening continued this pattern for most of the visit, but one evening Nyota claimed “foster mother rights” and said she and Paul were going with Jim and McCoy to watch a classic film at the large screen viewing centers located in downtown San Francisco. That left Spock and Sarek alone, and Spock found the flow of conversation, surprisingly, continued much as it had with Paul there.

“Your mother knew,” Sarek said after a pleasant pause in the conversation.

“Knew what?” Spock asked.

“That you and Miss Uhura were well suited for each other.”

He realized that was the first time his father had not referred to Nyota by her Starfleet rank in the entire time their relationship had been known. “Mother did not know we were in a relationship.”

“Yes, she did,” Sarek said, the ghost of a smile crossing his face. “She was wiser than I was when it came to romantic entanglements. I’m sure she would be happy with the situation as it is now.”

“It is only temporary,” Spock said.

“It does not have to be.” Sarek paused. “You know that there is still prejudice against anyone not fully of Vulcan blood. And it is already obvious Paul would prefer to follow in the footsteps of yourself and your th’ylla than the path he would be encouraged to take should he go to New Vulcan and live there. He is a child of two worlds, as you are. A life in strict confines is not what he needs. A good father would know that.” He paused again. “I...should have known that.”

“You let me go to Starfleet,” Spock said.

“Not without my disapproval shrouding the matter,” Sarek said. “You know it is not for the best for someone else to take Paul. You know it is best he remains here, with both of you.”

“Fostering a child while we are unmarried is one thing,” Spock pointed out. “Adopting is another.”

“Then perhaps it is time to follow your heart and ask her to be your bride, and together you can raise Paul. It is not a bad thing having a child if you learn from your elders' mistakes, even if they are loathed to admit them. And a wife and child might...complete you.”

“Did they complete you?” Spock asked.

“I loved your mother very much. I did not love my children enough. Sybok is beyond reach, and Michael I can have some relationship with, but it is not the one she deserves. But we are both stubborn. That is our failing, not yours. You...take more after your mother. And a grandchild and another daughter would be good. I would make an effort to enjoy their presence, so long as they make you happy.”

Spock nodded, lapsing into silence. “I will think on the matter.”

“I think I should retire for the evening and leave you to your thoughts,” Sarek said, the hint of the smile still on his face. He stood and made his way to the room he was using, leaving Spock in the ever-darkening living room.

Was a life with Nyota and Paul what he really wanted? Would he give up the Enterprise, if need be? Would he stay at the Academy and teach? Did it really matter? If it did not...would he really be happy?

That was the question he truly needed to answer.

His reverie was cut short when the door opened and Nyota’s familiar laughter floated through the room, followed by the slowly growing familiar laugh of Paul. He turned and saw them with wide smiles on their face, and saw Nyota wipe a bit of whipped cream from Paul’s lip after he had a sip of the warm beverage in his hand. Nyota turned and saw him watching. “Don’t worry, it’s warm apple cider,” she said. “I know better than to get a Vulcan hot chocolate unless I want a drunk Vulcan on my hands.” And then Paul and she launched into details about the movie and he knew, then, the answer to the question.

Yes. He wanted it all, whatever it meant for his future. That was what would make him truly happy.