Chapter Text
Spock entered the healing room, spotting the elder Vulcan right away. She was seated at a small table, pouring tea out of an aged pot the same red color as the clay of the Vulcan desert. “Healer T’Mun, I have a concern that I wish to bring to your attention.”
The healer gazed placidly at Spock. “Speak, then.” She took a sip of tea.
Spock was slightly surprised when his body moved into parade rest, as he might when addressing a superior officer. He had memories of taking this stance while on duty aboard the Enterprise, but had not done so in his new body. It felt slightly odd. His efforts were hindered by the voluminous robe he wore, so he brought his hands back around to the front and tucked them into the sleeves.
“I have been experiencing a sensation in the back of my cortex, the origin of which I cannot be sure. I have a hypothesis, but no frame of reference. I believe it may be a bond. Not a familial bond, as I have already detected the one with my parents. This one is different. I would almost say it is a bondmate, but that is a conclusion that the facts do not support. Logically, I would have been informed by now if I had a bondmate.”
T’Mun’s brow slightly wrinkled in concentration. “I have not been informed of one, either. There is no record on Vulcan of you having chosen another bondmate after you were denied by your betrothed, T’Pring.”
Spock felt an un-Vulcan-like flash of irritation at the name of his former intended. It has been three months since his katra has been restored, yet there were many memories that continued to remain hidden. T’Pring was unfortunately one of the first to emerge.
T’Mun’s expression turned slightly sour. “It is possible you formed a bond not sanctioned by the High Council. You are around humans almost exclusively. Perhaps one of those that came here with you? Any bond would feel stronger with proximity.”
A face sprang into Spock’s mind immediately. He felt a strong instinct that there could be no other but this one. Fascinating. Studying his reaction, T’Mun raised one eyebrow and then her hand. “I will have your thoughts.”
Spock went over to the bench which was used for initiating melds and reclined against the pillow. “Proceed.”
T’Mun placed her fingers expertly onto his psi points, and closed her eyes as she murmured. He could feel her presence in his mind, softly skimming his thoughts before delving deeper to where a bond would be if it existed. Where Spock knew one existed. After a few moments, he heard the sharp intake of breath and then her fingers were abruptly gone.
Spock opened his eyes and he was startled to see that her gaze held something close to envy. “T’hy’la,” she whispered. Spock stilled, the word sending a thrill up his spine. “You do indeed have a bond, Spock. One of the most ancient and revered bonds that it is possible for a Vulcan to have. And yes, it is with him. The one who occupies your thoughts.”
Admiral Kirk, his mind supplied. Jim. “I do not understand why he has not told me. The admiral is, as the humans would say, an open book.”
T’Mun’s lips pressed tightly for a brief moment. “Kirk took very seriously the warnings that I gave to him and your other colleagues about speaking of the things of the past.” It was true enough. They had been told to censor much of what they say to him so as not to influence his perception of his memories as they return. T’Mun had been firm that the process would take at least 100 days.
“Surely this would have been too important to keep to himself. It is wrong to deny one’s bondmate, no matter what the circumstance.”
T’Mun put her finger to her lips, thoughtfully. “Humans have very illogical notions about bondmates in their culture. Romance and physical attraction is very important to them. Perhaps he is concerned you will only come to him out of obligation, even if you no longer felt a personal desire for him.”
There was no chance of that, thought Spock. Even without all his memories, he was well aware of his attraction to his superior officer.
“There is another possible reason,” T’Mun continued. “The two of you may not in fact be bondmates. Your link to Kirk could be entirely platonic, a friendship bond. He may not even be aware that it exists.”
Spock frowned. “There is no such thing as a friendship bond for Vulcans, as we do not seek out such relationships. I am aware that the crew of the Enterprise are my friends, but then I am also only half-Vulcan.” One of the memories he recalled was coming to terms with the fact that he had friends and appreciated them. At least, he remembered appreciating them, even though at the moment he believed such appreciation was illogical.
T’Mun raised her eyebrows. “You contradict yourself, Spock. You say there is no such thing as a friendship bond, and yet acknowledge that you have friends.”
Spock shook his head. “I was speaking of the bond, which can only come from my Vulcan half. There could be no bond with Kirk if I were fully human.”
The healer’s expression was almost a smirk. “And there would be no friendship if you were fully Vulcan. Which is why I proposed the possibility of a bond unique to your heritage. Perhaps that is why this is the first time a Vulcan has experienced the t’hy’la bond in many generations. It has been theorized that only a Vulcan who has embraced his emotions is capable of it. The term has always been interpreted in several ways. Friend, brother, lover. It is not known whether it could mean any of the three or all together. My interpretation has always been that the three together were what gave it vigor to endure through the war and strife of that period in our history. But these are different times, so perhaps only two of the characteristics were necessary to give it strength – friendship and brotherhood.”
Spock frowned again. “Perhaps,” he murmured. He found that he did not like this possibility. In the brief time since their discussion began, he had begun to feel sensations in his heart and in his stomach that were not based in illness. He found that, illogically, he wanted the bond to mean something more. “Perhaps I should speak to Admiral Kirk about this.”
T’Mun shook her head. “I would advise against it. If he is your bondmate and has been holding back in deference to your current condition, it may make him eager to fully reestablish the bond. You absolutely must not mind meld with him until your 100 days has passed. There is too much of a risk that his memories will bleed into yours. If he is not your bondmate and it is merely friendship, he will want to talk about how the bond formed, and that too may complicate your recovery. For now, I believe you should wait and observe. You are about to leave Vulcan to go to the Terra system, correct?” Spock nodded. “Good, you will be in closer proximity to your friends than you have been these three months. Observe. Mark the way Kirk behaves with you. Let your memories continue to come back to you naturally.”
Spock nodded again. After saying his farewell, he left T’Mun’s abode and began to make his way back to the home of his parents. He found himself taking a detour, heading up one of the slanting rock formations that jutted out over the landing pad where the Klingon ship was docked. He paused and watched as the Enterprise crew stood lined up next to the ship, perhaps discussing their imminent departure. After a moment, Jim looked up at him, his eyes finding him unerringly. Even at such a distance, Jim clearly knew it was him. T’hy’la.
It was difficult to believe that Jim was unaware of a bond between them, even if it was merely one of friendship. He was a keenly intelligent and perceptive man. He would know on a deeper level that there was something profoundly different about his friendship with Spock than any other of his friendships, including Doctor McCoy. How much he knew, or understood, Spock could not hypothesize without more data. He would follow T’Mun’s instructions, and observe. In less than 24 hours, he would have plenty of opportunity for this. He had not seen much of his friends in the past three months, immersed as he was in relearning the knowledge critical to being a functional adult and to continuing in Starfleet.
Spock decided that it would be useful to sort through the memories that he had already recovered, for any clues that would confirm or deny that he and Jim were mates. As he turned and made his way back down the promontory, he supposed that the best place to start would be to mentally review any non-platonic interactions between himself and others. As he ran through his memories of Leila and Zarabeth and T’Pring, it seemed as if in every case that he could recall, he did not truly want to be with any of these people, and was in fact adversely influenced biologically to pursue them. The only person other than Jim that he recalled being attracted to was the Romulan commander. He had not needed to pretend interest in her during his mission, only his motivations. Unfortunately, Spock’s internal chronology was not functioning, so he was not able to pinpoint when any of these occurrences took place.
The exception was his first pon farr and T’Pring – that was a matter of Vulcan record. T’Mun had advised him against reading any records of his past until his 100 days were up, but the memory of the pon farr was so intense and confusing that he had been unable to resist, and he looked it up. It took place 2 years after Jim assumed command of the Enterprise. They had known each other a relatively short time at that point, but they were apparently close enough that Spock asked him to stand with him at the ka-lif-fee. Close enough that Spock’s blood fever had evaporated at the sight of Jim’s lifeless body. Close enough that when Spock saw that he was alive after all, he felt overwhelming joy. Abashed at his own weakness in searching his records, Spock had refrained from looking up any of his other experiences while on Vulcan, so he did not know with whom he shared his subsequent pon farrs.
As Spock approached his parents’ dwelling, he mentally moved on to Jim’s romantic entanglements, which were quite numerous. He filtered out the occasions when it was obvious that Jim was flirting for strategic reasons. There were only a small number of times when Spock remembered Jim genuinely falling in love with someone. He debated whether to exclude Miramanee, because Jim had no memory of his true life when he married her. But if he and Spock were bondmates during that time, Jim should have sensed him. The bond would have vehemently objected to intimacy with anyone else. So either that had happened because they were not bondmates, or it happened before they were bondmates. Here is where his lack of chronology failed him again. How was he able to use his memories to prove or disprove anything without knowing when they took place?
Spock had a memory of travelling back in time to New York City. Of sharing a bed with Jim out of mission necessity. Feeling frustration because he wanted something to happen in that bed, but Jim fell in love with Edith Keeler instead. Obviously this could only have happened before there was a relationship between them. And yet he also had a memory, one he felt certain happened before New York, of a moment on the bridge when an attractive yeoman was giving the captain a back massage and Jim made the assumption that it was Spock. When Jim realized the truth, he looked embarrassed and told the yeoman to cease immediately. Surely such an incident would not have taken place unless they were intimate and Jim only desired Spock’s touch?
The touching. So much touching between them. As well as other behavior - the way they would look at each other, the sheer number of times they mind melded – all things that would be shockingly inappropriate for a Vulcan to engage in with anyone other than a bondmate.
But then there was the kolinahr. He felt sure that happened after their first 5 year mission together. He could remember that he wanted to banish the feeling of loneliness and regret, but did not remember what it was he regretted. He felt strongly that he would not have undergone kolinahr if Jim was his bondmate. It would have been illogical to purge his emotions when he had a partner that valued them so much. Unless bonding with Jim had proven to be too overwhelming? Perhaps the regret was because he was unable to sustain a bond with a human and still hold true to his principles.
Spock entered the dwelling and proceeded to the room where his learning center was set up. The computer was still paused from where he had left off earlier, when the sensation at the back of his head had distracted him enough to falter in his answers and led him to seek the healer. He had planned to access Vulcan’s records once again to find out more about his kolinahr, but found that he preferred to go back to his training exercises. The puzzle of Jim was proving to be taxing to his mind. “Computer, resume testing.”
He could feel the tension leave his shoulders as he immersed himself in facts and figures, in that which is knowable and logical. Then the computer surprised him. “How do you feel?” He found the question both baffling and painful. Why was it asking him this? Why was he illogically feeling resentment that it was asking him this?
His mother came in, drawn by the shrill sound of the computer repeating its query. When he told her his confusion over the question, she reminded him that he is half-human and has friends that are human. Even as he acquiesced to his mother’s words, he wondered if his hypothesis about why he went to Gol was correct. “Mother, I know that you have been told by T’Mun not to share any memories with me. But I also know your propensity to, as you might say, bend the rules. There are memories that have surfaced which are confusing to me, and I very much wish to have clarification.”
Amanda clasped her hands together. “I will do what I can.”
“It is about Admiral Kirk.”
Something in her face shifted, and he was not able to interpret it. “James T. Kirk. The man who brought my son back to life.”
“Mother, what are he and I to each other?”
She blinked several times rapidly, and then shook her head. “I am sorry, Spock. I cannot help you with this. Maybe if you were asking about I-Chaya or that time your father and I were guests aboard the Enterprise.” Spock did remember that occasion, and a memory of Jim and his mother chatting amiably came to mind. His mother put a hand on his arm. “But this…this is too important. If you don’t remember what you are to each other, I refuse to taint your memories with information that is entirely second-hand.”
“But you can at least tell me if we are…”
She held up her hand. “No! Don’t even tell me your hypothesis. I can’t guarantee that my expression wouldn’t give away the truth. Please, my son. You and James must work this out between the two of you.”
Spock huffed out a breath that he would never admit to being a sigh. “As you wish, Mother.”
*
Spock reluctantly submitted to an examination at Starfleet Medical, the doctors wanting to treat any injuries he may have sustained from the ordeal of crashing into the San Francisco Bay. Afterward, he was given a room for the night so they may continue to observe him. Spock took the opportunity to meditate and then ruminate.
Spock had anticipated being able to observe Jim during an uneventful trip back to Earth. Instead, he had been forced to make his observations during one of the most harrowing adventures of their experience. In hindsight, perhaps it had been better this way. He’d learned much more about Jim’s state of mind than he would have otherwise.
The circumstances had also triggered the return of a number of memories. From the moment Spock boarded the Klingon ship, Jim had been frustrated by Spock’s use of the word Admiral instead of his given name. Spock later recalled that even back in their first five year mission, he would occasionally call him Jim - even on duty. It was also clear that Jim was the only one for whom he had ever relaxed his standards.
Spock had been watchful when he saw Jim start to turn on the charm with Gillian Taylor. He was unsure of Jim’s intentions, so he tested the situation. When Jim suggested dinner, Spock attempted to withdraw from participation by claiming that he did not like Italian food. Jim kept insisting that he did, with a look in his eyes which said two things to Spock – one, that he knew Spock was trying to back out and did not want him to. And two, that Jim was very familiar with Spock’s meal preferences.
Later, Spock was finally able to extract himself from the dinner (he truly had no wish to join now that he felt assured that Jim’s interest in Gillian was strategic and ultimately platonic) and went back to the ship to meditate. Once his mind was calm, another memory surfaced. It was a time they went to an Italian restaurant on Earth. Based on the warm reception by the staff, it was one they went to frequently. As they were eating their meal, Jim commented about how much he loved food prepared by chefs and not replicators, and made what he considered to be a humorous reference to his figure and how being stuck planetside was doing him no favors. Spock had replied that it was illogical to keep referencing his body, which was just as pleasing as it had always been, when it was really his magnificent intellect, brilliant tactical skills and unparalleled leadership that were being done “no favors” by denying himself another starship commission. Jim had stared at him dumbfounded for a full five minutes. Spock had expected Jim to chastise him for giving such an unvarnished opinion about his career, but instead he had stuttered, “Pleasing as it’s always been?” Spock filed this away as one of the memories that argued in favor of them being bondmates.
Probably one of the most telling incidents that had happened during their voyage was when they suffered a setback in obtaining the whales. Jim had objected to Spock obliquely referring to it as their ‘mission.’ “Spock, you’re talking about the end of every life on Earth! You’re half-human. Haven’t you got any goddamn feelings about that?”
Even knowing how much stress Jim was under, it had been wholly unexpected that he would say such a thing to Spock. It was the sort of outburst that Doctor McCoy might have made, even long after he stopped believing that Spock was a machine. But for Jim to say it…Spock had felt deeply unsettled. After Jim stormed from the cargo room, Spock had looked at Mr. Scott and all he could think to say was that Jim was a man of deep feeling. Mr. Scott gave him an unreadable look before he agreed.
Spock surmised that the only logical reason Jim reacted in such a way was because they were bondmates and Jim was feeling the strain of pretending otherwise. From what Spock understood of bondmates, they did not deny each other anything, not their minds nor bodies. Any forced separation adversely affected their mental health, especially for a very affectionate and tactile man as Jim was.
It was not conclusive proof they were bondmates, but Spock was realizing that he would have to make the determination without all the facts. Make the best guess that he can, as it were. He could not wait until all his memories returned, because it was entirely possible he would never recover them all. He would at some point have to rely on second-hand information - what Jim has to tell him when they finally discuss the matter.
Spock’s best guess, which he told himself was not biased by what he wants to be true, was that he and Jim were indeed bondmates. Based on the evidence, he believes that the t’hy’la bond formed at some point during their first five year mission, and it affected their behavior and created a deeper intimacy. For some reason they did not take it beyond that, though not from a lack of desire on his part. Spock deduced that this was the reason he went to Gol when the mission concluded – unrequited feelings of love that he was concerned would interfere with his professionalism as a Starfleet officer.
He could not be sure at what point they did finally formalize their bond, but he was convinced that they had. He remembered the moment of his death. The intense pain he’d felt, physically. But seeing the grief on his t’hy’la’s face had been even more painful. He’d attempted to make him understand why he did it, that saving the lives of the crew had been worth it. He’d also felt regret that the glass was between them, and that he’d lost the chance to touch his t’hy’la, to share the ozh’esta. “I have been, and always shall be, yours.”
Now that he has come to this conclusion, what should be his next step? Clearly Jim was waiting until the 100 days were up, 5.2 days from now, to say something. Should Spock bring it up first? Do it as soon as possible or wait? Spock closed his eyes. He could feel the bond pulsing through him, drawing him to Jim. It had gotten stronger as soon as they commenced their flight to Earth. He would meditate on it. The hearing was tomorrow morning, and he knew that Jim would be feeling anxiety about the outcome of it, so it was wiser to wait until afterward. He chose not to dwell on what he would do if Jim was sentenced to prison.