Chapter Text
Spock stood completely still and stared at his arm. On the soft skin right below the elbow was a word in neat, even lettering.
Dvun'uh!
Logically, he knew it was impossible for the small marking to be there. He had neither consented, nor recalled to its placement. He rubbed the skin, hoping it might come off. He doubted his parents would be happy to see their 10-year-old son with a tattoo he had no recollection of getting. The thought made him scrub his skin harder.
“Spock, are you awake?”
Fear crawled through his chest. In is focus, he hadn’t realized his mother’s footsteps approach the door. He was standing in the center of his room dressed only in his undergarments and now his arm was a furious green. He attempted to quickly dress himself, more so to cover his arm than to protect his privacy.
“Spock, is everything okay? I’m coming in.”
Before Spock could object, his mother had entered. His attempt at a quick dressing proved a poor choice as his robes were now tangled over his head. He heard his mother laugh softly as she approached.
“Here, let me help you.” She lifted the robes off and Spock snatched his arm to his chest. He realized his mistake immediately and dropped it to his side. His mother’s soft gaze grew concerned. “Spock. What’s wrong with your arm?”
He contemplated lying, but if he were to do so, the time for telling a convincing lie was already gone—and he’d never been adept at deception anyway. Reluctantly, he held out his arm for his mother to see, averting his eyes to the floor. She gasped softly and took his arm to inspect the writing. Spock wished he could be anywhere but under his mother’s scrutiny.
“Well, aren’t you all grown up?” Her voice was gentle and had a hint of playfulness Spock was unprepared for. His brow furrowed in confusion before he could think to stop the display of emotion. Logically, she should be angry with him and at the very least he had been expecting an admonishment, not an amused giggle.
“I apologize, Mother, but I do not see how a tattoo of any sort, especially one I do not recall getting, plays any factor into my transition into adulthood.”
“I remember when I got mine. I was about your age and I thought I was all grown up. The adults I knew had one, so when mine appeared I felt I was finally an adult like them.”
Spock’s mind stalled, his shame snapping into curiosity. “Yours? Clarify.”
Amanda smiled warmly and pulled up her sleeve. Almost a reflection of his own, letters in simple cursive were scrawled into her skin.
Ms. Grayson, it pleases me to finally meet you in person.
“Those are the first words your father ever said to me. In person, that is.” Spock was quiet, attempting to make sense of what his mother was saying.
“I still find myself confused by the exact purpose for…”
“It is the first word or words your soulmate will say to you. It is something that most humans experience; admittedly, I was unsure if it would happen to you.” She brushed his hair with the backs of her fingers before placing a soft kiss to the crown of his head and left him to dress. He looked at his arm and furrowed his brow at the word. Dvun'uh! Move! Spock tried to imagine every scenario in which the exclamation would be an acceptable first interaction as he successfully pulled his robes over his head and followed his mother into their kitchen for their morning meal.