Title: Opportunities Lost, Opportunities Gained
Author: Ster Julie
Codes: TOS; Spock, McCoy; angst, h/c (?); written for Spiced Peaches
Rating: PG
Contact: sterjulie@yahoo.com
Summary: Spock’s world has changed
dramatically since his trip to koon-ut kali-fee and the
visit of his parents. McCoy comes to the rescue. Not exactly part of the After the Credits series.
A/N: All Vulcan words come from that wonderful resource, the Vulcan Language
Dictionary.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, least of all Trek.
--ooOoo--
Like a kite with a broken string
Like a snapped string of beads
Like a sprung harp string
Like an interrupted call
Like an unmoored dinghy on rough waters
Disconnected
3472.7
It
had been roughly a month since the fiasco that should have been Spock’s marriage.
His broken bond made him feel adrift, anchorless. There was no one with
whom Spock could discuss his situation.
Spock
discovered that his parents would be among the dignitaries being shuttled to the conference on Babel. Because of the constraints his father imposed on Spock when he left home, he could
not anticipate their reunion with any sort of emotion, save one – extreme apprehension.
No one aboard knew the identity of his parents nor the animosity between father and son. When Spock left home, he was forbidden to cause his mother any sort of distress, so he could not unburden
himself to her either. In deference to his promise to Sarek, Spock kept contact with his mother to the barest minimum. After neither parent showed up to his failed wedding, Spock felt himself totally cut
off from those whom he cherished and who once cherished him, those he needed most.
Spock
never felt so alone.
3845.3
Spock
reclined on the sickbay bed feigning sleep. He listened to the slow, steady breathing
of his sleeping father and to the gentle snoring of his captain. The two were
the most important men in his life, and Spock nearly lost them both to the day’s events.
What would Spock do without his father? Yes, they had not spoken as father
and son for eighteen long years. It would be so unfair to lose Sarek after just
finding him again, conversing not only as parent and child but as adults. And
what of his captain? Kirk was not only his commander but more importantly, he
was Spock’s friend, no, his brother, no, more. What if his shield-mate
had been lost as well?
Spock’s
fragile control disintegrated as he continued his musings. Unable to master the
emotions which overwhelmed him, Spock rose surreptitiously from his bed and made his way to the lavatory. A folded bath towel smothered the sobs that besieged him.
Spock
never felt so alone.
3855.8
Spock
called himself all kinds of fool.
His
father had sufficiently healed from his emergency heart surgery. Both Sarek and
Amanda were planet side at the Babel Conference.
Kirk
was sufficiently recovered to move back to his quarters to continue his recuperation.
Only
Spock remained in Sickbay; his altered blood chemistry still needed careful monitoring.
Spock had to commend Doctor McCoy and his staff. They had given the brooding,
moody Vulcan a wide berth as well as all the quiet and solitude they could provide in a place as lively as Sickbay by moving
him to an isolation room.
Spock
also called himself a coward.
There
had been many opportunities and ample time to speak to Sarek about all that troubled Spock – about his desire to follow
the Vulcan way despite his bond-mate’s rejection, to follow c’thia
even in an organization as challenging as Starfleet, about his lack of links to family, peers and friends. But he took no advantage of any of these. Spock wondered. Did he really fear being rejected again by his father, or was it the unknown that
a reconciliation would bring that he dreaded more?
Spock
also passed up opportunities to converse with his mother. He had wanted to ask
his mother to indulge him with one of the many stories she’d compose for him, tailored right to his needs, perhaps to
even cook for him some comfort food, but he feared being judged as weak.
Spock
wanted the simpler time of his early childhood before he had begun formal schooling.
He had enjoyed a physical closeness with his father as Sarek sat his small son on his knee and gave Spock his first
lessons in computers, science, math and music. He had wanted Amanda’s stories
and piano lessons, those stolen hugs and kisses exchanged when Sarek was not looking.
Spock
realized with some surprise that what he wanted most was to be held!
Yes,
Spock was afraid of his father’s response to his needs. He had passed up
opportunities to discuss with Sarek the events at koon-ut kali-fee, his abject
terror at the being without a mate at his next ponn farr, the difficulties he continued
to endure as a lone Vulcan among so many humans who want nothing more than to change him into one of them, at the terrible
loneliness of being so very far from home and the family he cherished.
Spock
never felt so alone.
He
sat back from his musings and self-recrimination. He recognized that he was musings
were circling back on themselves. Spock dared to think that he was homesick. Oh, how very cliché! he thought.
The
doors to Spock’s private cubicle opened. He looked up from the corner in
which he sat as he brooded.
McCoy
didn’t hesitate to lower his slim frame next to the Vulcan. Spock expected
him to mumble something derogatory about a “damn-fool Vulcan hiding in the dark,” or about how uncomfortable the
hard decking was “when a perfectly good bed was nearby.” Instead
McCoy made his way directly to Spock’s side, plunked himself down and waited for the Vulcan to make the first move.
It
didn’t take long. Spock turned on his side and rested his head in the doctor’s
lap. McCoy curled protectively over Spock and wrapped his arms around the Vulcan.
“Tell
me how I can help,” McCoy said gently.
“I’m
a coward,” Spock moaned.
“What?”
McCoy said in surprise. “Spock, you’re the bravest person I know!”
“So
why can I not find the courage to talk to my father?” he asked with disgust.
McCoy
thought of all the items Spock could have on his agenda with his father, from Starfleet to ponn farr to T’Pring to any number of things. “I suppose it depends on what you wanted to discuss
with him,” the doctor said quietly. He paused again, and then he repeated,
“Tell me how I can help.”
Spock
was so still and silent in McCoy’s embrace that the doctor thought he might have gone to sleep. Then Spock snuggled – snuggled! – closer and murmured,
“Remember how, after losing a tooth, your tongue would keep returning to the hole left behind, how you could not keep
your tongue from exploring the alien void there?”
McCoy
dared to draw a soothing circle on Spock’s back. “Yes, I remember,”
he answered.
“I
was used to having a bond with T’Pring,” Spock continued. “No
matter how faint it was, or how far away I was from her, I always felt it there in my mind.
Now it’s gone, and I am terrified of the void that is left. She
said she challenged because I was a legend.” Spock snorted derisively.
“I
take it that ‘legend’ is a derogatory term on Vulcan,” McCoy deduced.
“Yes,”
Spock said bitterly. “Yet, how could I discuss this with my parents? They were the ones who chose her for me. They
were the ones who dared to have me.”
“And
sharing this pain with your parents would only seem like you were blaming them, right?” McCoy continued.
“Exactly,”
Spock concurred. “Not only that, if I was to complain of my single state
to them they would feel obliged to find me a new mate.”
McCoy
continued the gentle circles on Spock’s back. “Don’t you want
them to find someone else for you?”
“No!”
Spock answered quickly.
McCoy
was a patient man – at times. He gave Spock time to think before he asked,
“So, what kind of spouse do you envision, Spock?”
The
Vulcan pondered a while. “I need someone who accepts me unreservedly,”
he said, snuggling even closer, “someone who will not try to mold me into something I am not. I need someone who will be an intellectual challenge to me, with a similar background so that we can have
an understanding of each other’s disciplines. I want someone with a beautiful
soul.” Spock sat up and looked at McCoy.
“Does that make sense?”
The
doctor smiled and nodded. “You want someone kindhearted,” McCoy observed. “Anything else?”
Spock
looked pointedly at McCoy. “I want someone I can trust to be faithful.”
The
doctor sighed. He knew what heartache infidelity brought. He knew a passel of pain thanks to Jocelyn and that jackass she took to their bed. But this session was for dealing with Spock’s problems and not his own.
“You
sound like you have someone in mind,” McCoy commented. He tried not to
sound too desperate when he asked, “Anyone I know?”
Spock
lowered his gaze.
“Is
it Jim?” McCoy ventured. “Because Jim will go to hell and back for
you, you know. For all of us.”
“I
know,” Spock said quietly.
McCoy
heard Spock’s voice echoing from moments earlier, “I want someone I can
trust to be faithful.” James Kirk could be many things, but the doctor
knew that their captain and friend needed many and varied experiences in all departments of his life. McCoy wondered if Kirk could ever survive being tied down to one person.
It
was then that McCoy noticed that Spock had used no pronouns in describing his perfect mate, nor had he protested when the
doctor had suggested their very male captain.
A
glimmer of hope was born in the heart of one lonesome ship’s doctor.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained,
McCoy thought. And I I’m tired of
having nothing, so here it goes.
“I’m
sure you’ve been very lonely since that little trip to Vulcan, eh, Spock?” McCoy asked.
Spock
nodded mutely, almost bashfully.
“Do
you have anyone in mind?” the doctor asked shyly.
Spock
dipped his head to the side noncommittally.
“Because
if you don’t,” the doctor said in a rush before his own meager courage ran out, “I’d like to keep
you company until you find someone more to your liking. I like to think I meet
at least a few of your requirements. I know what it’s like to have your
wife step out on you, so you can be sure that I also value fidelity. No one knows
more than me that you are Vulcan, but you’re gonna have to help me understand more about your culture and … mpf…”
Spock
had placed two fingers across McCoy’s lips. The doctor backed his face
away irritably. “If you had wanted me to shut up, you could have just said
so, Spock.”
The
corners of Spock‘s eyes crinkled. “You wanted to know more about
Vulcan culture,” Spock said amusedly. McCoy was unconvinced. “This is your first lesson. This is how Vulcans kiss.”
McCoy
opened his mouth to say something, but Spock merely replaced his fingers. Oh, yeah. This is nice, the doctor thought. He had wanted to ask about the two-fingered thing he observed Sarek and Amanda doing.
McCoy had supposed that that was a kiss.
“You
most certainly fit some of my requirements, Doctor,” Spock continued. “Of everyone on board, you accept me as
a Vulcan, even though at times you try to get me to be more human. You and I
already have an understanding of each other’s disciplines. And I have observed
your kind and caring nature.” Spock moved his fingers over McCoy’s
lips. “I already know that you have a beautiful soul.”
McCoy
shuddered at the feeling this simple touch caused to course through his body. He
opened his mouth and nipped gently at Spock’s fingers, which caused the Vulcan to gasp with pleasure.
McCoy
jerked back. What was he thinking?
“What’s
wrong?” Spock asked.
McCoy
gulped. This was going to be difficult. “Two things, Spock,” he began shakily.
“One, I can’t get involved with you while you are my patient.”
At the look of dismay that crossed Spock’s features, the doctor quickly added, “Your father arranged to
have another doctor assigned to help me, one that’s studied on Vulcan. Once
he arrives, I’ll hand over your care to him. Then you and I will be free
to pursue a relationship, okay?”
Spock
nodded. He accepted the logic of the situation, but he didn’t have to like
it. He steeled himself while he waited for the other shoe to drop. “What is the second thing?” he asked warily.
McCoy
smiled. “You’re gonna have to call me ‘Leonard,’ okay?”
Two lonely men
Drawn together in their lonesomeness
Recognizing in each other
the other half of their soul
END