The BLTS Archive - T'hy'la by Ladyhawk (lhflu@yahoo.com) --- NOTE: CANON DISPOSAL ALERT! If you do not like people messing with canon, you may not want to read further. And exactly why are you reading fanfiction anyway? --- I am gratified that you are making choices that I could not at your age, young one. But even though I believe you will do better than I in some things, it is imperative I impart this advice to you before you get much older, for it is in your best interest. I had very little to guide me. I hope to give you the help I did not have. Let me start with that which is most salient to your future. Do not lie to your bondmate. For I did, and for some time, it clouded my vision of what the connection to such a mate is and can be. I lied by omission three days after the bond formed. My captain had spent those first three days with me, having tricked me into entering a recreation room while I burned with my first pon farr. My Time had been a failure from the beginning, as she who bonded with me as a child rejected me. But my captain, my friend, did not, though the bond was forced upon him. Even then, it was as if we were two halves of a whole. Yes, sometimes those meaningless cliches are actually true. In the instinctive understanding some humans have, he surmised my situation and sought to remedy my distress. Although I had concerns about our compatibility and his safety, he did not. As it often is with Jim Kirk, he assessed the situation in an instant and plotted the moves needed to save us. He forced me into a corner, then let my instincts do the rest. It took very little for the barriers between us to break. Most of them had been crushed under the strength of his friendship over the two years prior. As one would expect, my biology overwhelmed us both. To my later amazement and pride, my t'hy'la burned as brightly as I did. Although I had apprehensions about our joining before it began, I had no regrets once it ended. Of the days after, my regrets number in the thousands. My lie began simply, as many things do. When we left that room, Jim turned to me to learn more about this relationship we had begun. As he probed for the rules of Vulcan marriage and bonding, I turned away. As he reached for me, I moved away from his touch. I even held the bond away from him, not letting him feel my presence in his mind. In those ways, I told him our marriage was for mating only. Once I had reassured him of the strength of the other connection we shared, our friendship, he accepted this as an axiom. I can see your shock. Why did I do this to he whom I hold above all others? It is a simple explanation. I feared. And that fear paralyzed me into an inaction that hurt us both. What did I fear? My own emotions, as most Vulcans do. We are taught from an early age that we could drown ourselves, as well as others, in the seas of those emotions if the waves are not stilled completely. And my feelings for my captain ran deeply. I believed my bondmate was also something to be feared. I was scared of the very things that attracted me to him: his charisma and his emotional, ability. In the days of my youth, I feared being ruled by him, of losing my identity. He overwhelmed my senses. How could he not overwhelm the rest of me? Yes, I can see you have a firm grasp of your personality. I believe this timeline created in you more of a strength, or at least more of a confidence, than I had. I learned confidence through my captain. You, it seems, had to learn it earlier, in order to tame your captain. I confess the teachings of Surak deserted me when I had to face the power of my bondmate's personality. I ignored the proof of my own strength: my rejection of the Science Academy as well as my reputation as an exemplary officer. I also ignored the consequences of my decision to treat the bond as if it did not exist. For if I had used the tenets of logic in reaching this 'truth', I would have realized that by trying so fiercely to keep my sense of self, I denied my bondmate part of himself. I did not remember my mother's teachings on human marriage. More emotionally based than Vulcans, Terrans will often identify themselves first by the one whom they've chosen as mate. By denying Jim the bond, I denied him this identification, and he suffered for it. Yes, I can see the question in your expression. Since I have brought up our mother, I shall address her place in this 'fiasco', as Dr. McCoy called it in later years. Why did Jim not question my mother on this? I do not know if he did, but I fear he did not. His lack of questioning was most likely in deference to me as his guide in this new experience. For if Mother had heard of what I had done, she would have told him the truth of Vulcan bonding. He would have learned of my deception and he would have challenged me on it. I would have had to face my fears much sooner than I did. But that was not to be. Since I would not provide the necessary emotional components of a Terran marriage, he sought other relationships, mostly with women. Though the ancient Vulcan in me railed possessively against his choice to see others, the logician in me knew it could be no other way. If he could not have me, he needed to seek another to fulfill the sexual and emotional needs that were an integral part of him. Many of those relationships ended with him in pain, as it was with his wife Miramanee. The day after her death was the first time I approached him as bondmate without the fires of pon farr. His pain called to me as strongly as any burning. For I found that in this instance, unlike most other times, my t'hy'la could not put what he had with her aside. He had been happy in his absence of memory and his simple life with her. So now, as he came back to daunting responsibility and a marriage that was not, the pain overwhelmed him. His distress drove me to his side and to his bed. He needed the physical solace I could provide. For if I did not help him, we both would be lost. He in his sorrow, and me in my worry and jealousy. Yes, jealousy. Anger flared within me at the thought of him being one with another. The emotion served me well. For it helped me see that if I did not give him something of myself, I would lose him. So I held him through the night and through the duty shift I cancelled. And though I feared his personality and the strength of his emotions, I opened the bond to him and left it open for 2.8 months. For he drew comfort from my presence within him and the change, the calmness that settled over him, kept me from closing it, even though my fear attempted to thwart my logic. But when his experience with the android Rayna overpowered my attempt to aid his resilience, I closed the bond and made him forget both her and the bond's existence. I thought it was for the best. He did not need my emotions, as he had been quite overwhelmed with his own. I truly believed the axiom that Vulcan emotions were too fierce to be let free. I had the proof in my own being. I had grown so close to Jim that many in Starfleet called me his shadow. And my emotions...My human side clamored for my mate and would not let me rest. I soon became weary of fighting myself. Though I still sought to control my emotions for Jim as we ended our assignment for Starfleet, I knew I did not have much strength left to fight. Soon I would give in to the bond and I would be lost. I looked for a logical solution, but could not find one. It was my fears that drove me to Gol, to seek the ways of the Kohlinar. I believed the Kohlinar, the way of pure logic, would both strengthen me and give Jim his mind back. Yes, I had begun to contradict myself in my illogic. I was no longer sure who would be lost by allowing our connection to continue, but I was positive that one or both of us would be. So when the Enterprise was sent to Spacedock after our five-year mission was complete, I went to Vulcan and began my studies. I spent three years attempting to completely suppress my emotions, and believed I had succeeded when I contacted my bondmate to tell him of my intentions to leave them completely behind. But when I tried to sever the bond, as is expected of the Kohlinar, I found that I was unable to do so. First, there was Jim's resistance. I knew he did not remember our connection, for I was the one who made him forget it. But when I entered his mind, he pushed at my presence so intently that he was able to stop my attempts to disconnect us. He then sought to protect the bond by erecting a shield between us. Once my incredulity at his psy skills passed, I gasped as the bond pulsed from the injury I had caused him. I could feel it through the echoes of Jim's outrage. The pain was enough to cause me to fall to the sand beneath my feet. Then my mind fully realized what I had attempted to do. My conscience yelled in horror as I realized that I had nearly mind-raped my bondmate. That realization suddenly renewed the fight with myself that had brought me to Gol. My shame lay me prostrate on that sand. How could I have wanted to be free of him? 'T'hy'la, what have I done?' I cried. My fault. I caused him pain, unbearable pain...I could barely stand under the weight of the guilt flowing through me. But I struggled to my feet, for another presence began to call to me. It was headed toward my captain. Now I will not say much of this entity, other than it was cold and mechanical. And once my time in Gol was over, I felt very much like this creature. For not only did the teachings of Gol change me, I was also suffering under the weight of my own misdeeds. However, I could not ignore the threat to my bondmate. So I walked out of Gol with only the robes on my back and hired a ship in ShiKahr. I blatantly used my father's name as assurance to the captain that he would get paid. For deep within me, I feared the ship I had once called home was in danger. I entered the refitted Enterprise with some concern. I did not know my place now, with Jim as Admiral and another as captain. But it took me little time to surmise that Jim was also in battle with himself. He could not let go of that ship or its crew. They were an integral part of him. Only later did Starfleet conclude that it had made a grave error in taking him away from the Enterprise. Although I was prepared to aid him in his mission when I boarded the ship, I was not prepared to help him resolve his conflict. For I was not yet ready to leave the ways of the Kohlinar behind. I still believed logic was the best solution to my emotional turmoil. It took a mindmeld with the coldly logical entity we faced to realize to that my fight with my bondmate and myself was not only futile, it was illogical. For I was not in danger of being overwhelmed by Jim, nor him by me. Instead, I was in danger of destroying us both if I did not allow the bond to be. But my captain had been harmed by my initial decision to sever the bond. He would not open it to me now. So, to convince Jim that I wanted this to change, as Dr. McCoy would say, I became 'stubborn'. I tapped on my bondmate's shield continuously. I could feel his fear of my presence. But I would not give up. I needed that connection. I needed to know I was not alone. I found my previous commitment to isolation and pure logic quite unsatisfying. When I saw, through the remnants of my meld with the entity, how futile it is to live without emotion, and how dangerous, I cried. My captain's sympathy and understanding of the battle within all Vulcans reinforced that lesson. So I released my pride in my heritage and pounded on Jim's shield, for I feared I would never feel his mind again in mine. But he was stronger than I, and more logical. He brought me to his cabin to resolve our impasse. He was hesitant at first, even though he was brave enough to make the first overture. However, Jim needed a sign from me that he wasn't alone in wanting our separation to end. So, I pleaded for what I needed. I showed him my remorse as he cautiously opened to me. But even with my penance, all was not well. The depths of despair controlled him for a time. For humans must purge extreme emotions in a safe way or be consumed by them. I had not before seen my captain break down so completely as he did that day in his quarters. I inadvertently caused him more pain by revealing myself to him. I showed him the motivations behind my actions, but I did not prepare him for what he saw. Before I realized it, he became too focussed on lamenting the time we had wasted and fearing that he would always lack a fundamental understanding of me. I did not expect this reaction to my revelations. Instead of the joy of discovery, I found my bondmate being crushed under the weight of despair. The despair gripped him in a way I could not counteract with logic or even emotional entreaty. So I turned to the physical touches of mating to reach his emotions and calm him. And I, a Vulcan praised most highly for my control, gloried in the joy my bondmate felt because I cared for him. So I continued those touches for as long as Jim needed. After a time, he began to return them, sensing my need for reassurance that all was not lost. It was wonderful to feel him again on all planes of existence. Once our physical needs were sated, we spoke of our future. Plans and agreements helped solidify our commitment to each other. It was long into the night before he settled and I helped his body ease him into a healing sleep. Considering the emotional quality of the experience and our agreement to face the future together, that time in his cabin became sacred to me. Another cliche may express it best: It was a night to remember. It was the start of change for us. It was the beginning of our time of contentment, of a stronger connection. But it also began the second stage of my lie. --- I am gratified that you are making choices that I could not at your age, young one. But even though I believe you will do better than I in some things, it is imperative I impart this advice to you before you get much older, for it is in your best interest. I had very little to guide me. I hope to give you the help I did not have. Let me start with that which is most salient to your future. Do not lie to your bondmate. For I did, and for some time, it clouded my vision of what the connection to such a mate is and can be. I lied by omission three days after the bond formed. My captain had spent those first three days with me, having tricked me into entering a recreation room while I burned with my first pon farr. My Time had been a failure from the beginning, as she who bonded with me as a child rejected me. But my captain, my friend, did not, though the bond was forced upon him. Even then, it was as if we were two halves of a whole. Yes, sometimes those meaningless cliches are actually true. In the instinctive understanding some humans have, he surmised my situation and sought to remedy my distress. Although I had concerns about our compatibility and his safety, he did not. As it often is with Jim Kirk, he assessed the situation in an instant and plotted the moves needed to save us. He forced me into a corner, then let my instincts do the rest. It took very little for the barriers between us to break. Most of them had been crushed under the strength of his friendship over the two years prior. As one would expect, my biology overwhelmed us both. To my later amazement and pride, my t'hy'la burned as brightly as I did. Although I had apprehensions about our joining before it began, I had no regrets once it ended. Of the days after, my regrets number in the thousands. My lie began simply, as many things do. When we left that room, Jim turned to me to learn more about this relationship we had begun. As he probed for the rules of Vulcan marriage and bonding, I turned away. As he reached for me, I moved away from his touch. I even held the bond away from him, not letting him feel my presence in his mind. In those ways, I told him our marriage was for mating only. Once I had reassured him of the strength of the other connection we shared, our friendship, he accepted this as an axiom. I can see your shock. Why did I do this to he whom I hold above all others? It is a simple explanation. I feared. And that fear paralyzed me into an inaction that hurt us both. What did I fear? My own emotions, as most Vulcans do. We are taught from an early age that we could drown ourselves, as well as others, in the seas of those emotions if the waves are not stilled completely. And my feelings for my captain ran deeply. I believed my bondmate was also something to be feared. I was scared of the very things that attracted me to him: his charisma and his emotional, ability. In the days of my youth, I feared being ruled by him, of losing my identity. He overwhelmed my senses. How could he not overwhelm the rest of me? Yes, I can see you have a firm grasp of your personality. I believe this timeline created in you more of a strength, or at least more of a confidence, than I had. I learned confidence through my captain. You, it seems, had to learn it earlier, in order to tame your captain. I confess the teachings of Surak deserted me when I had to face the power of my bondmate's personality. I ignored the proof of my own strength: my rejection of the Science Academy as well as my reputation as an exemplary officer. I also ignored the consequences of my decision to treat the bond as if it did not exist. For if I had used the tenets of logic in reaching this 'truth', I would have realized that by trying so fiercely to keep my sense of self, I denied my bondmate part of himself. I did not remember my mother's teachings on human marriage. More emotionally based than Vulcans, Terrans will often identify themselves first by the one whom they've chosen as mate. By denying Jim the bond, I denied him this identification, and he suffered for it. Yes, I can see the question in your expression. Since I have brought up our mother, I shall address her place in this 'fiasco', as Dr. McCoy called it in later years. Why did Jim not question my mother on this? I do not know if he did, but I fear he did not. His lack of questioning was most likely in deference to me as his guide in this new experience. For if Mother had heard of what I had done, she would have told him the truth of Vulcan bonding. He would have learned of my deception and he would have challenged me on it. I would have had to face my fears much sooner than I did. But that was not to be. Since I would not provide the necessary emotional components of a Terran marriage, he sought other relationships, mostly with women. Though the ancient Vulcan in me railed possessively against his choice to see others, the logician in me knew it could be no other way. If he could not have me, he needed to seek another to fulfill the sexual and emotional needs that were an integral part of him. Many of those relationships ended with him in pain, as it was with his wife Miramanee. The day after her death was the first time I approached him as bondmate without the fires of pon farr. His pain called to me as strongly as any burning. For I found that in this instance, unlike most other times, my t'hy'la could not put what he had with her aside. He had been happy in his absence of memory and his simple life with her. So now, as he came back to daunting responsibility and a marriage that was not, the pain overwhelmed him. His distress drove me to his side and to his bed. He needed the physical solace I could provide. For if I did not help him, we both would be lost. He in his sorrow, and me in my worry and jealousy. Yes, jealousy. Anger flared within me at the thought of him being one with another. The emotion served me well. For it helped me see that if I did not give him something of myself, I would lose him. So I held him through the night and through the duty shift I cancelled. And though I feared his personality and the strength of his emotions, I opened the bond to him and left it open for 2.8 months. For he drew comfort from my presence within him and the change, the calmness that settled over him, kept me from closing it, even though my fear attempted to thwart my logic. But when his experience with the android Rayna overpowered my attempt to aid his resilience, I closed the bond and made him forget both her and the bond's existence. I thought it was for the best. He did not need my emotions, as he had been quite overwhelmed with his own. I truly believed the axiom that Vulcan emotions were too fierce to be let free. I had the proof in my own being. I had grown so close to Jim that many in Starfleet called me his shadow. And my emotions...My human side clamored for my mate and would not let me rest. I soon became weary of fighting myself. Though I still sought to control my emotions for Jim as we ended our assignment for Starfleet, I knew I did not have much strength left to fight. Soon I would give in to the bond and I would be lost. I looked for a logical solution, but could not find one. It was my fears that drove me to Gol, to seek the ways of the Kohlinar. I believed the Kohlinar, the way of pure logic, would both strengthen me and give Jim his mind back. Yes, I had begun to contradict myself in my illogic. I was no longer sure who would be lost by allowing our connection to continue, but I was positive that one or both of us would be. So when the Enterprise was sent to Spacedock after our five-year mission was complete, I went to Vulcan and began my studies. I spent three years attempting to completely suppress my emotions, and believed I had succeeded when I contacted my bondmate to tell him of my intentions to leave them completely behind. But when I tried to sever the bond, as is expected of the Kohlinar, I found that I was unable to do so. First, there was Jim's resistance. I knew he did not remember our connection, for I was the one who made him forget it. But when I entered his mind, he pushed at my presence so intently that he was able to stop my attempts to disconnect us. He then sought to protect the bond by erecting a shield between us. Once my incredulity at his psy skills passed, I gasped as the bond pulsed from the injury I had caused him. I could feel it through the echoes of Jim's outrage. The pain was enough to cause me to fall to the sand beneath my feet. Then my mind fully realized what I had attempted to do. My conscience yelled in horror as I realized that I had nearly mind-raped my bondmate. That realization suddenly renewed the fight with myself that had brought me to Gol. My shame lay me prostrate on that sand. How could I have wanted to be free of him? 'T'hy'la, what have I done?' I cried. My fault. I caused him pain, unbearable pain...I could barely stand under the weight of the guilt flowing through me. But I struggled to my feet, for another presence began to call to me. It was headed toward my captain. Now I will not say much of this entity, other than it was cold and mechanical. And once my time in Gol was over, I felt very much like this creature. For not only did the teachings of Gol change me, I was also suffering under the weight of my own misdeeds. However, I could not ignore the threat to my bondmate. So I walked out of Gol with only the robes on my back and hired a ship in ShiKahr. I blatantly used my father's name as assurance to the captain that he would get paid. For deep within me, I feared the ship I had once called home was in danger. I entered the refitted Enterprise with some concern. I did not know my place now, with Jim as Admiral and another as captain. But it took me little time to surmise that Jim was also in battle with himself. He could not let go of that ship or its crew. They were an integral part of him. Only later did Starfleet conclude that it had made a grave error in taking him away from the Enterprise. Although I was prepared to aid him in his mission when I boarded the ship, I was not prepared to help him resolve his conflict. For I was not yet ready to leave the ways of the Kohlinar behind. I still believed logic was the best solution to my emotional turmoil. It took a mindmeld with the coldly logical entity we faced to realize to that my fight with my bondmate and myself was not only futile, it was illogical. For I was not in danger of being overwhelmed by Jim, nor him by me. Instead, I was in danger of destroying us both if I did not allow the bond to be. But my captain had been harmed by my initial decision to sever the bond. He would not open it to me now. So, to convince Jim that I wanted this to change, as Dr. McCoy would say, I became 'stubborn'. I tapped on my bondmate's shield continuously. I could feel his fear of my presence. But I would not give up. I needed that connection. I needed to know I was not alone. I found my previous commitment to isolation and pure logic quite unsatisfying. When I saw, through the remnants of my meld with the entity, how futile it is to live without emotion, and how dangerous, I cried. My captain's sympathy and understanding of the battle within all Vulcans reinforced that lesson. So I released my pride in my heritage and pounded on Jim's shield, for I feared I would never feel his mind again in mine. But he was stronger than I, and more logical. He brought me to his cabin to resolve our impasse. He was hesitant at first, even though he was brave enough to make the first overture. However, Jim needed a sign from me that he wasn't alone in wanting our separation to end. So, I pleaded for what I needed. I showed him my remorse as he cautiously opened to me. But even with my penance, all was not well. The depths of despair controlled him for a time. For humans must purge extreme emotions in a safe way or be consumed by them. I had not before seen my captain break down so completely as he did that day in his quarters. I inadvertently caused him more pain by revealing myself to him. I showed him the motivations behind my actions, but I did not prepare him for what he saw. Before I realized it, he became too focussed on lamenting the time we had wasted and fearing that he would always lack a fundamental understanding of me. I did not expect this reaction to my revelations. Instead of the joy of discovery, I found my bondmate being crushed under the weight of despair. The despair gripped him in a way I could not counteract with logic or even emotional entreaty. So I turned to the physical touches of mating to reach his emotions and calm him. And I, a Vulcan praised most highly for my control, gloried in the joy my bondmate felt because I cared for him. So I continued those touches for as long as Jim needed. After a time, he began to return them, sensing my need for reassurance that all was not lost. It was wonderful to feel him again on all planes of existence. Once our physical needs were sated, we spoke of our future. Plans and agreements helped solidify our commitment to each other. It was long into the night before he settled and I helped his body ease him into a healing sleep. Considering the emotional quality of the experience and our agreement to face the future together, that time in his cabin became sacred to me. Another cliche may express it best: It was a night to remember. It was the start of change for us. It was the beginning of our time of contentment, of a stronger connection. But it also began the second stage of my lie. --- The time after our reunion was one of growth. After leaving the Enterprise, Jim sought to learn of Starfleet's inner workings. I sought to instruct young minds. With that in mind, I brought a young Vulcan into our home. She needed guidance and had few people prepared to give it to her. So I provided what I could and led her to Starfleet to find other mentors. Let me give you this warning: Jim Kirk is not a suitable mentor for a Vulcan out side of the structure of command. I had to reprimand my friend for sending my charge on a 'wild goose chase.' He had ordered her to find a snipe, an aquatic bird, by clucking while holding a paper bag. The young lady, well-versed in the ways of Surak but not in human illogic, did not understand the levity of the situation. I almost lost control of my emotions when I found her in that undignified position. After his 'initiation into the family', I sent my charge to sleep in the Academy barracks so Jim would not attempt any other tricks. But despite his tendency towards fun, my bondmate seriously devoted himself to the growth of our bond. We learned much of how our minds fit together, and what it was like to share in the emotional experience of the other. I was gratified to see my bondmate participate so equally in the bond. Unfortunately, that made it easier to justify to myself that he did not need me physically. I let him believe that Vulcans do not need physical release outside of pon farr. My only defense for this lie is again fear. For my fear evolved as our relationship did. This time, however, my fear was much more salient to the situation, because it was based on what I knew about James Kirk. I denied Jim my body to keep him with me. His past behavior has demonstrated that he often lost interest in those he was physical with. I did not want to be 'thrown aside' and believed that my restriction would keep him from becoming bored. But I paid a high price for my deception. I was forced to watch my bondmate turn to others yet again. For I had not anticipated his strong need for the physical. I treated him as if he were Vulcan. I believed if I gave him access to my mind, he would not need my body. I seriously miscalculated the needs of my human. The evidence was there, but because of my trepidations, I disregarded it. Jim Kirk is a man who communicates by touch. Over the years, I have watched him grip the hands of Admirals to show respect and pat the shoulders of ensigns to communicate camaraderie. Of course, I also have been on the receiving end of his messages. One does not have to have psy abilities to read the intent of his touches. They speak a language of basic human emotions, often very strongly. Ah, yes, I can see from your face that you already know of this language. He has already started with you. Good. You will need it, to keep your connection with him and with the crew. I used it thus during our missions. But when we were on Earth, those touches became less, for he found comfort more in others than in me. I am ashamed to say that I actually thought this would help our relationship. I was intrigued by my reputation as a 'mysterious' figure and sought to use it with the last person I should have hidden from, my mate. I remained aloof physically in an attempt to heighten my allure. But I suffered. I often had to close the bond when Jim was away because his mind would call to me. His unconscious wished to know why it wasn't me in his arms. It questioned the need for this separation. I believe he was not aware he was doing this, for he never mentioned his dissatisfaction to me. Or, perhaps, he felt it would be a burden on our relationship, and hid his feelings. But when he was in the arms of others, he could not hide. So I did. Of course, not even Vulcans can live without giving into physical needs. So I satisfied some of them the nights we were together, but it was not enough. Although sleeping with my Jim soothed my soul, it did very little for the fire within me. It took my death for me to realize I could not go on that way indefinitely. Yes, I stand before you whole, not a ghost or decaying flesh. My death, by coincidence or fate, was not permanent. I have my friends to thank for that. But before I comment on their tenacity, I shall speak of my loyalty and love for the entire crew of the Enterprise. By the time of my death, the crew had been informed of our relationship. Most of them heard through the rumor mill that all humans seem to perpetuate. The rest found out because it became a matter of public record. Once we started sharing living arrangements, it was logical to be seen as a couple. So there was no surprise on the crew's faces when, during a training exercise on the Enterprise, I turned the ship over to my bondmate because an old lover asked for his help. No, I did not fear difficulties with this woman. Their relationship was long over. And the crew was most receptive to his leadership. All was as it should be. But what should have been a simple bureaucratic manipulation became a war of revenge. As we met up with Jim's former partner, we also encountered an old enemy who blamed us for his current pain and struggle. We were surprised by his attack on us and he was able to compromise the ship. When we lost some of the younger ones to this man, I could see my captain do his best to hide his pain. To this day, I regret that I had to cause him more, but it was necessary for him and the others to live. Only I could do what was necessary to save them. To give the ship the power it needed to escape the trap set by our enemy, I had to manually move components in the radiation chamber of the engine room. Because of the damage to the ship, they could not be moved remotely, and no human would have survived long enough in the radiation to do what was needed. So I sacrificed myself for the good of the many. My only regret was that my captain had to suffer. I couldn't see his tears as he rushed to be by my side in my last moments, but I could feel his emotions even as the bond was fading. The strength of those emotions did not worry me. I believed he would survive my death, and be stronger because of it. I did my best to insure this by preserving my katra so he and others could reference it when needed. No, I could not give it to Jim. I placed it in Dr. McCoy before entering the chamber. Yes, I understand your incredulity. Be aware that the animosity you think you see from the good doctor is anything but. It is a challenge, like waving a cloth at a bull. If you 'play his game', you will find much to like behind that mask of his. But the main reasons I chose him were because he was close to me and once he had my katra, he would easily accept his task. So before I was lost to my bondmate, I told him to keep the doctor with him. I expected my father would instruct them of the required actions. Though the radiation had taken my sight, I could feel Jim's presence and hear his grief. So I spoke of my friendship for him. Certainly not a lie, but definitely an omission. I wanted to speak of the cries in the depths of my soul, but I could not. My respect for the others surrounding us would not allow me an emotional display. Then the bond granted me what I thought was its last gift: the shadow of my t'hy'la's form in my mind, a substitute for what my eyes could not see. I used the dying bond to preserve Jim's image in my mind. And I was rewarded. The last I remember of that time was Jim's hand reaching towards mine, as it always had. Of the beginning of my second life, I remember very little. I can only recollect the vague affection for the young lady I had taken in earlier. For she was the one who found me when I was whole in body but not in soul. At that time, Dr. McCoy still had my katra. Since I knew next to nothing, I could not know my friends were racing to my side. They did not know I lived, but still they risked themselves for my memory. They risked even more when they found me breathing. Jim's son laid down his life for mine. I do not know his motivation, but as he was a Kirk, I imagine his reasons reflected a great moral character. Looking back, I believe it was because I could not save myself. My friends told me later of the rescue and of the hours it took to re-fuse my katra to my body. But the first that I remember is a familiar face with bright eyes and a smile that stirred emotions in me that I could not as of yet recognize. The first clear memory I have of my new life, of course, was Jim. --- I regret I caused Jim much heartache at the beginning of my rebirth. He felt lost for a time because the bond did not re-form on its own. I did not realize anything was missing at first, and Jim later told me that the biases our people had held against Mother kept him from speaking of it to the healers. But something troubled me when I began meeting with my friends to heal my memory. Most of them were comfortable with me, although I had reverted to strict Vulcan politeness. They told the tales of our deeds and adventures with great feeling and great respect for me. Even the good doctor set aside his games to allow my memory to return without the illusion of animosity between us. But Jim...Looking back, I can see how he suffered. His time with me was uncomfortable for both of us. He had trouble speaking and often would lapse into silence. Most unlike the man I knew before. I am grateful to Commander Uhura for coming to our aid. Yes, she played a significant role in our lives. Her position in yours was something I did not expect, however. As you make your choices concerning her and your captain, remember that human emotions can sometimes come forth when you least expect them. Hers are often fierce. Yes, she is a very intuitive person as well. She quickly surmised that Jim needed help relating to me and therefore stayed with us during our discussions. She also found us a chess set. You have not played chess with your captain? I advise you to do so as soon as possible. There are times humans think best under distraction and a chess game is a more than adequate one. In my case, it also was an excellent memory cue. As I remembered how to play the game, I remembered many of the discussions we had over the board. It was a satisfying way to reintegrate my memories concerning Jim and the Enterprise. Three months into their stay on Vulcan, my friends were ordered back to Earth. To rescue me, they had defied Starfleet numerous times. It was time for them to face the consequences of their actions. Do not scoff at the possibility. Your Jim rescued more Vulcans than one could expect, given the circumstances. He defied orders to do it. For the ones he calls friend, he will 'go to the depths of hell and back.' You have seen no evidence of this? Then pay attention to his choice of personnel in life-threatening situations. Yes, he will risk his own life before all others. As my Jim did when we went to Earth. For the planet appeared to be under attack by an unknown entity. I had gone with them primarily to help them justify their actions to the tribunal. I was not quite prepared to step back into my expected role aboard a ship. But when we found Earth in need of our aid, I could not stand idle. Though my refusion was incomplete, I had to help. I became the first officer again, there to aid my captain. I cannot tell you what it took to effect the rescue of Earth, but let it suffice that my skills, as well as the unique talents of the other crew members, were well-tested. The trials we were put through confused me at times. Sometimes my confusion tried Jim's patience. Perhaps that is why he became angry with me, but I suspect not. I believe his anger was due to my continued aloofness towards him and the others. It was not normal in their eyes. Before my death, I had learned to bend the Vulcan rules of politeness when I believed it was best for the cohesion of the crew, or when I was facing Jim. So for my friends, it was frustrating to see me like that: aloof, overly polite, too Vulcan. Especially for my captain. That, I believe, is why he snapped at me. His anger was directed at my feelings about our mission and the people we were trying to save. I know now he feared my death had left me without any. It was a reasonable fear, given my state at the time. What I did not expect was my response to his query. I initially was confused. His question seemed irrelevant to our mission. Then my emotions surfaced. First, there was anger. I resented that he questioned my loyalty to Starfleet. Then, my own frustration. Part of me knew something was not right, but I knew not what. I also became frustrated at Jim for not giving me enough information to resolve this impasse. Then my affection for him finally came to my consciousness. It was as if a wave crashed through a dam. I was flooded with all the feelings I've had for him over the years. The friendship, the love, anger, pain. All of it flashed through me within seconds. My mind took a short time to process all of the emotions. But once it did, I finally noticed the remnant of the bond. Suddenly, Jim's reaction to me became much less confusing. Realizing that this was what had been missing, I fixed the connection. Although I was touching him when I initially connected our mind together, this time I was able to reconnect us while in separate rooms. I was comfortable with the space between us because I was uncertain of my next move. From my limited memory, I surmised that humans were illogical and volatile. Also, it was obvious even to me that circumstances had left their marks on Jim. I did not want to add to his discomfort. So I left the bond open and 'listened'. He poked and prodded our connection, wanting to feel my presence. But I believed it best to leave my side of the bond dormant. I waited for some sign of a true welcome rather than just curiosity. That sign did not come until our task was almost complete. We had returned to Earth with the required cargo, but we had to land in San Francisco Bay with our commandeered ship. I do not believe it is pertinent to explain the reason why we commandeered a ship at this juncture. You will find out in time, or if you are truly lucky, you will never need to understand. As we had to deposit our cargo into the sea, our landing in the water was reasonable, if not comfortable. However, we had more dire problems as the ship settled in the bay. The force of impact had jammed the doors to the cargo bay. So, of course our captain risked himself to free our cargo. He used his time swimming alone for contemplation about our relationship. Doubts about the bond between us began to surface in his mind. As the bond was open, I could read these concerns easily but I could not discuss them with him at that moment. Neither of us could afford to be too distracted. So I succinctly relayed my opinions of his illogical doubts through the bond with a huff of impatience. I was gratified to feel the humor my response produced in Jim. He understood my wordless statement. He then was content to wait to discuss our bond until we were safe. While we waited for Starfleet's rescue team, I explained my absence within the bond. I am glad my bondmate understood me so well, for we were able to recover from my death rather swiftly. And afterwards, I learned of Jim's physical want of me. When I allowed my t'hy'la to seek others for physical comfort, I mistakenly believed, or convinced myself would be more proper, that I was not to his liking physically. I was male, thin, and tall. How ever, many of the women Jim chose for his outings were small and curvaceous. The difference worried me. I ignored the evidence of Jim's attraction to me, especially his unconscious pleas through the bond when he was in the arms of others. I was convinced by this time that he simply regretted he did not have a mental connection with the women. My proof was his 'willingness' to bow to my terms. I never considered the possibility that he believed he had no choice. So when I found myself in need of my bondmate's physical touch after our return to Earth, I was at a loss. Logic would dictate that my need was due to the incomplete pon farrs I experienced during my recovery. My human side was of a different opinion, however. It knew this was simply a desire to be with my bondmate in all ways. So I again found myself pleading with my t'hy'la. But then Jim showed me that we were of like mind. 'You could have just asked,' he said. My pleading had convinced him that he had erred. He believed that I felt rejected by him. The bond pulsed with his anger towards himself. You have not seen signs of remorse in your captain? Then, young one, you have not looked. I could see his remorse concerning your mother as clearly as if I were bonded to him. As for my Jim, yes, I reconnected to him both physically and mentally. I will not burden you with the details, for your discoveries in that area will explain more than I ever can. Our missions for Starfleet continued to take their own toll on our relationship and ourselves. Like Jim, I had to go 'where angels fear to tread' in pursuit of my bondmate's safety. It led me at one point to bully a Klingon into rescuing Jim from a powerful threat. There was also a time when Jim and Leonard were taken to prison. My concern for their safety in such a place had me acting in my own Kobayashi Maru test. Yes, I changed the rules of the 'game' in order to win. I disobeyed Starfleet and tore the Enterprise apart to find evidence of their innocence. Yes, I won, but it was a time fraught with such anxiety and worry that I would not wish to repeat it. I must caution you again about the man you call friend. He needs physical touch. If you take him as bondmate. do not deny him this, for you both will suffer as I did. My death did not remove my fears of my bondmate, nor did Jim's acquiescence to me. I still denied him the completeness of being one with me in both body and mind. My only concession was that I touched him before sleep. No, it is true. I was foolish. I have no defense for my actions, only my fears as explanation. Though I did make one attempt at correcting my error. After our retirement from the Fleet, I took him to Vulcan. I gave him one day to express himself to me physically, to prove that I was what he wanted. As a single event, it was most successful. I felt his love and desire for me, and for a short time I believed we were truly one. But I did not tell my bondmate that time was a test. He did not know I was planning to change our relationship. So I lost him to the very thing I feared: a woman. Jim fell in love with this woman during his time spent away from me. While I was training in the diplomatic corps, he chose to spend time with family on Earth. There, he met her. She was everything I was not. Perhaps the most important thing was that she was available when I was not. For in my fear, I rationed Jim's access to me. That, perhaps, was my downfall. For I did not get a chance to correct that mistake. Not long after he left me, he left the physical universe. --- No, he did not die. For a time he was trapped in a temporal nexus. I will explain what I can, but the little I know of the nexus is from what Jim sent through the bond. I had kept the bond essentially closed during his time with his woman. I could not allow him to feel my pain at his choice of companions. I did feel Jim requesting entry to my side of the bond periodically, but I could not let him in. His betrayal of our marriage had left me wary of him. But when I heard through the Enterprise 'grapevine' that Jim would be joining the Enterprise-B on its maiden voyage, I opened the bond slightly. If he was going into space, I wanted him to have what protection and guidance I might need to provide. No, I didn't realize how contradictory I was being at the time. I simply felt that I should be available if he needed me. It was, as humans say, a mixed blessing. I was comforted by his presence for a brief time, but I also felt the nexus take him. It engulfed his side of the bond, cutting off communication between us. It was as if there was a titanium wall between us. I was only allowed a second before it swept him away. I had time to destroy the light shield I had up and call to him, but I could do no more. No, the bond did not break when he was taken. But since some bodies of victims from the other ships were found in the area, I assumed if he did not die when he was taken, he would within a short time. The newly-appointed captain of the third Enterprise confirmed that going after the nexus would accomplish nothing other than my own death. So I mourned him. In deference to my human bondmate, I gave him a wake on Earth. His nephew helped me organize it and opened his house to me and our guests. Even though I was well aware of Jim's reputation, I was not prepared for the thousands of people who came to Iowa to express their condolences. One of them, of course, was Dr. McCoy. 'I grieve with thee, Spock.' The good doctor said to me that day, his sorrow apparent on his face. 'And I with thee.' I bowed to him, as was proper. For he, too, had lost his best friend. We walked in the pasture, each of us lost in thought until Leonard sat on a bench placed next to the stables. 'Tell me, Spock. What was going on between the two of you? I mean, I know Jim hadn't seen you for years when he died. Did you two get divorced?' I sat next to him, suddenly weighed down by my turmoil concerning my relationship with Jim. 'Vulcans do not divorce, Doctor.' 'Well, separated then. I saw that girl he was living with here. What is her name, Amanda?' 'Antonia.' Leonard gave me a piercing look when he heard my tone of voice. My facade of calm had many cracks at that time. 'And you just *let* him go with her?' 'His initial...liaison with her was per our arrangement.' I revealed quietly. The need to discuss our relationship with someone had come forth. The human part of me was reaching to the one other I readily called friend. But he was not sympathetic. 'Your *what*?' 'I had arranged with Jim to allow him liaisons with others, in deference to his biology. I...led him to believe that I could not provide for his physical needs.' 'For God's sake, Spock, why? You're not impotent!' The doctor stood and towered over me to the best of his ability. 'I did not wish for him to leave me. The captain's past history indicated a tendency to lose interest in those he had chosen for physical liasons.' I whispered this, now knowing that Leonard would have a differing view of my earlier dilemma. 'You...green-blooded, pointed-eared IDIOT!' Dr. McCoy yelled. 'You set him up to leave you!' He took a deep breath to calm himself. 'Did you ever have sex with him?' 'Four times.' 'Four times over thirty years? Damn, Spock. You are a bastard.' Leonard glared at me. 'He loved you! He mooned over you for all those years. I didn't see any signs of him 'losing interest'.' 'Perhaps I was mistaken.' I acknowledged, letting Bones see the sadness on my face. I could not apologize to my bondmate. So, at the very least, I would apologize to his other life-friend. 'Damn right you were mistaken. How the hell could you do that to him?' His arm was raised as if he would hit me, then he took another deep breath and stepped back. I hung my head in shame. The illogic of what I had done finally sank into me. 'I can no longer justify my actions. I was wrong.' I squeezed my hands tightly together, part of me hoping that Leonard would rage once more and mete out the penalty for my crime. But instead he gave me comfort. Laying a hand on my shoulder, he sighed. 'What's done is done. There's no sense fretting about it now. He's gone.' For a moment, Leonard laid his hand on my hair. 'Thank you.' I said simply as we both composed ourselves. 'For what? You have to live with the guilt...' 'For being his friend...and mine.' I stood and bowed to him once again. Leonard snorted. 'It's just like you to choose to call me friend right after I call you a jerk.' 'That is what friends are for, is it not?' I let a corner of my mouth rise as we headed back to Peter's house. Leonard laughed. A wondrous sound in our time of mourning. It filled me with hope for the future. We could...would carry on Jim's legacy. After the wake, I took on various jobs in the Federation diplomatic corps. I spent time helping Sarek in his many tasks as primary Vulcan diplomat to Earth. But I also watched the Klingon and Romulan empires as closely as I could. Thanks to overtures Jim and our crew made earlier, the Klingons were settling in slowly as Federation allies. However, I knew it would take more overtures before they truly stood by our sides. I aided the efforts towards this where I could. But it was with Romulus that my interests primarily lied. I worked slowly and methodically to gain the trust of an underground movement on the planet. Yes, I had a conflict with Federation Intelligence when they learned of what I was doing. But they are our brethren. It was the right thing to do. Over time, the Romulan government became aware of my presence. At first, they had difficulty accepting me, but as the Federation and Romulan governments both aged and matured, I slowly was accepted as the Federation ambassador to Romulus. In all, 78 years passed. My crewmates, one by one, had passed into the oblivion of death. My father had also died. And finally, the last true friend I had in the universe, Leonard McCoy, joined them. But I carried on. I was determined to help Romulus become a Federation ally. It was on a scheduled trip from Romulus to an outpost of Starfleet Intelligence that my life changed once again. I was travelling in a small ship within the vicinity of the Veridian system when I felt it. The bond suddenly and violently reopened. I gasped and nearly stumbled as I made by way to my bunk. Jim! I stopped breathing as I processed this change, then rushed over to the ship's controls. Without making a conscious decision, I followed the bond to its origins as quickly as my small ship could handle. I also listened to the bond intently. From Jim, I could feel excitement, purpose, and gratitude to another. I chose to not reveal myself to him as of yet, so I kept my side of the bond lightly shielded. I did not want to disturb him, nor could I be distracted as I steered the ship. I was dropping to impulse near Veridian II when the signals in the bond changed. I felt Jim gasp for breath. It made me gasp as well. And pain! Physical pain shot through my whole body. I could tell I didn't have time to go into orbit around the planet. Jim was mortally injured and fading quickly. I could feel that his death was imminent. I opened the bond completely to try to reassure him that I was on my way, but in his state, he thought I was saying goodbye. I could feel his agitation and hear his apologies. Then I heard nothing more from the bond. I vaguely heard myself cry out in instinctive horror, but still I worked quickly, using the bond as a locator and a gauge for how much time I had. I calculated Jim's rescue as precisely as I could using Captain Scott's equations for transporting while at impulse. While programming the transporter automatically, I found myself praying to the god Jim invokes at times of crisis. Then, as I took a deep breath, I slid the knobs to 'engage transport'. I found myself holding that breath in a very human expression of anxiousness. I could not release it until my bondmate materialized on the small transport pad. When I saw Jim's injured state, I hurried to his side. Rather than risk moving him, I grabbed the medkit and healed what I could, then I erected a portable stasis field around him. In an effort to engage his tenacity, I called to him through the bond. 'Hold on, my t'hy'la. Please, hold on.' He did not answer, but the bond did not fade. I ran back to the ship's navigation screen and programmed a flight path to Vulcan at Warp 8, the fastest speed the ship could handle. Then I sat at the conn and turned the chair around so I faced Jim. He was so pale, so quiet. So unlike him. I needed to help him. So I took hold of the bond with all the mental energy I had, trying to give what I could, anything, to keep him alive for the three hour trip to Vulcan. Vulcan was the place where I would find the only man I would trust with my bondmate, the great-grandson of our best friend. I could only hope his medical magic was enough to save Jim. --- Steven Spock McCoy Harrison was an expert in hybrid xenobiology. He had been given the charge by his great-grandfather of taking care of me and others like me. For it was obvious that, even in this enlightened age, those of mixed heritage were somewhat neglected. Steven took his task seriously and showed his dedication by studying on Vulcan to learn as much information as he could about Vulcan hybrids. He also attempted to 'keep tabs' on me, as I would often go back to Vulcan when I was in Federation space. For Leonard had impressed upon the young man that I was family, as important as his grandmother, mother, or brothers. Steven agreed and would track me down to check on my health as often as he could. So when I called him enroute to Vulcan and asked that he be prepared to beam up to my ship with his medical equipment in precisely 2.1 hours, he simply said 'Yes, Uncle Spock.' I knew he would be ready at that time. He took pride in being allowed to call me that honorific and would move heaven and earth before he jeopardized the privilege. So when I began the ship's orbit around Vulcan, I immediately beamed Steven to us. 'What's going on, Uncle Spock?' Steven asked breathlessly. He had to hurry to be able to stop his work and prepare for our arrival. I simply pointed to where my bondmate was on the transporter pad. 'Oh my...' Steven hurried over to him and began his scans. 'Who is he? What happened?' I stood near them, watching Steven work. 'His name is Jim Kirk. His chest was crushed as he attempted to help the Enterprise-D save a planet in the Veridian system.' By this time I had intercepted the Enterprise's distress calls and reports of what had happened. I had also sent a message of my own to the captain, to thank him for the return of my bondmate and to apologize for his rather hasty retrieval. Yes, the ship was severely damaged, but the entire crew survived, including, if I'm not mistaken, the second officer's tabby cat. There is no need to apologize. I understand your need to check on the welfare of the Enterprise's crew, even if it is not your Enterprise. Now that you know all was well, I shall return to my narrative. Steven was understandably shocked when I revealed the identity of his patient. 'Jim Kirk? Didn't he die a hundred years ago?' 'He was lost to a temporal nexus 78 years ago.' I corrected. 'Huh.' Steven asked no more, as he had a more important task to accomplish. He would question me later on how Jim returned to our universe and how I found him. But at the moment, his primary concern was his patient's injuries. 'You were able to get him mostly stabilized, but I need to finish the job before I can move him.' I nodded. This was expected, given the limited medical equipment I had aboard the ship. The young doctor continued to runs scanners and menders over Jim until he finally looked up with me with a nod. 'Is it true that you two are bonded?' He asked without preamble. Many Vulcans would consider this question an invasion of privacy. However, I knew the McCoys well. Steven would not ask such a personal question unless it was important. So I answered without hesitation. 'Yes.' 'Then grab it, talk to him through it...whatever you can do to keep him calm. We have to move him. I can't get the equipment I need up here.' The urgency in his voice informed me of my bondmate's current state. Without quick action, he would die. I watched as Steven moved to the conn. 'Get him ready, Uncle Spock. I'll call my research staff.' Seeing my raised eyebrow, he rushed to reassure me. 'They are all trained MDs, and most of them have a background in trauma response. Trust me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him. Grandpa Len would return from the dead just to kick my hide if I did.' 'I will need a few minutes, but I can promise little. Jim did not respond during the trip here.' I looked down at my bondmate with trepidation. The worry must have shown on my face, or like his great-grandfather, Steven could decipher even the smallest of emotional signs. He put a hand on my arm. 'Do whatever you can.' I nodded and sat on the floor next to Jim. I channelled my concentration into the bond and called to him. At first, there was no reply. Then, I felt something brush against my mind. Jim carefully felt his way through the bond as if blinded, or as if afraid that the mind he would find on the other side of the link was not mine. I created an image in my mind: two hands reaching towards him, palms up. Pleading. I felt the bond shudder slightly at this, then a tentative reaching, grasping motion towards me. Slowly, so I did not startle him, I reached towards Jim's presence and cradled it, surrounding him with myself. He allowed this, and even leaned into me. But still I worried. I could feel how very weak he still was. 'Oh, t'hy'la.' I sighed, then opened my eyes. 'You found him?' Steven asked hopefully as he helped me up. 'I did. But he is weak, both mentally and physically. Please take every precaution.' 'That's what I'm doing. Grandpa Len told me he could actually tell when your bond was open. He said the captain got brighter, like someone turned a light on inside him. And that he was more relaxed. That's what I'm hoping for now.' 'Logical.' I praised my godson. Yes, I followed the Earth traditions with Leonard's family, and swore allegiance to his progeny. I had a debt to repay to him. Of course, I feigned reluctance at every birth. To do otherwise would have upset the balance of our relationship. Steven smiled, as he understood the emotions implied in that single word. 'I want to beam you down together so the bond isn't disrupted. I gave the team explicit instructions, and pulled up the captain's medical records. Thank goodness Grandpa Len was thorough.' When I gave him my permission, he commed his staff. 'Two to beam down, and treat them like royalty, or all of you are fired.' I nodded my thanks to Steven before we were beamed directly to his hospital's trauma unit. He would join us as soon as the ship was docked at Vulcan's orbiting station. The young doctor's staff was exceedingly competent at the task given to them. They quickly moved my bondmate to an operating room and myself to a meditation chamber nearby. As they repaired his body, they requested that I continue to give him what comfort I could to his mind. Precisely 2.65 hours later, Steven came to me. 'The surgery is finished. He's healing but the Vulcans on my team are worried. When I told them he was bonded, they checked him and told me the bond looked very weak.' I bowed my head worriedly. 'We were not speaking when he was taken by the nexus. I allowed the bond to weaken.' Steven's use of colorful metaphors rivalled that of his great-grandfather. 'That's going to make this more difficult. At this point, with most patients, I'd be rallying friends and family. He needs support, caring, someone to bitch at. I have seen people in his state die, often because they believed they had nothing to live for.' He leaned against a chair wearily. 'You're all the family he has now.' 'I am aware of the role I need to play, but it will be difficult because I concealed much of my true nature from him. I find myself reluctant to confess my lie. It will mean I must face his anger, though it is justified in this case.' Steven raised his eyebrow at this. I had taught him well. 'What exactly did you lie about?' He asked curiously. This was not the time for further concealment. Jim's life took precedence over my fears. 'My sexual propensities. I led him to believe I did not need outside of pon farr.' My godson shook his head. 'Vulcans...' He paused, then gave me a glare worthy of the man he was descended from. 'As his doctor, I suggest you rectify this problem as soon as possible. He needs you.' I bowed to him, knowing this moment would come from the minute I rescued Jim. 'I would have you at his side when I tell him. My honesty may cause him pain.' 'You need to be there too. Telling him while you're in here and he's out there...That's just another form of hiding.' Steven grabbed my sleeve. 'Come on. The sooner you do this, the sooner he'll recover.' 'You appear confident in your assessment.' I raised an eyebrow. 'Never doubt the restorative properties of anger. He might recover just so he can do something to piss you off.' With those words of wisdom, I went to greet my bondmate for the first time in 80 years. --- Jim's recovery was swift, as he was well motivated to get his health back. Steven forbid us to engage in any 'strenuous activity' until the scans showed Jim sufficiently healed. I smiled as my bondmate complained about 'interfering McCoys' after he received that piece of news. It was difficult, but I did get him to comply with my godson's order. To do so, I had to begin changing the ways I acted toward Jim, for he would not allow me to be idle in this. 'I want to know all of you, Spock,' he said. 'I missed half of your life. I have a lot to catch up on.' He requested that I leave the bond completely open. This I did, as it was logical now that we wanted complete honesty between us. He also requested that I stay physically near him as much as possible. At first, I was puzzled by this demand, but I complied. Given our circumstances, I owed my t'hy'la this favor. The reason for his request soon became apparent. He touched me at every opportunity: a hand on my arm as I discussed the parts of my life he had missed; his shoulder against my chest as he talked with Steven about his prognosis; his hand in mine as we played chess or just rested. He even would sit within touching distance while I meditated. As he was respectful of Vulcan traditions, he did not touch me then. But I confess, I reached to touch him when dark thoughts entered my mind during my time of contemplation. His presence eased my difficulties. After his mandatory two days of bedrest, we also began talking long walks on the hospital grounds. This was a comfort to both of us, as it resembled the rounds we would take around the Enterprise to both monitor the ship and exchange the news of the day. On these walks, however, we monitored ourselves. I confessed all of my fears in detail. My bondmate considered each carefully, but would often arrive at the same conclusion as to how each should have been solved. He summed it up this way: 'If you would've told me, I would have been able to reassure you. Hell, if you would have rather gone to Bones, Scotty, Nyota...even Pavel, they would have pointed out how obsessed I've been with you. Please, if you have any other worries, don't handle them alone. We need to be comfortable with each other.' In the end, I agreed that I had erred in a most fundamental way: I had not trusted my friends. I had not trusted that they would have done their best to understand my dilemma and to advise me. Now, I would not get a second chance to allow them to care for me, so I was obliged to follow the one piece of advice I knew each of them would give me: listen to my bondmate. Jim was not perfect, no human is. But he had more experience with romantic and marital relationships than I did , and I needed the wisdom that came from it. One piece of wisdom he imparted to me early in our reunion was this: resolve the conflicts you have before attempting to assuage any needs. For otherwise, you may end up being distracted by your anger and worry, and forget that you are with your chosen one to become closer to him. So by the time Steven declared Jim healthy, we had dealt with each of my fears and a few of Jim's. Yes, he feared as well. Most of his were for the future. I had a place in the 24th century, but he did not. So after some discussion, we decided that our past roles would simply reverse. I would continue as the rather visible ambassador to Romulus. He would now become my shadow. His main duties would be advisor, researcher, and the one to inform the Federation in case I ran into difficulties. It was a relief to have our problems finally resolved. We then could concentrate on strengthening our bond. With Jim once again healthy, I decided that a trip to Earth would be beneficial to us both. I could officially register his reappearance and his role as my 'right hand' with the Federation, and he would have a chance to spend time adjusting to the 24th century in a familiar place. For I had kept our old apartment in San Francisco, and although the city had changed around it, I had kept its interior essentially the same as the last time he was in it. I could see that I made the correct choice when Jim sat on the living room couch with a sigh of relief. 'Things have changed so much. It's enough to give me a headache.' He rubbed his temples. 'That is why we are here. I believed a familiar place would be soothing for you.' 'Yeah. it is. Thank you.' Jim smiled as he looked around. 'You kept everything...even my holos.' 'I did. I found the images of our friends comforting, especially after their deaths.' Jim sighed and stared at the holos for a moment, then nodded. 'It must have been awfully lonely for you.' 'Although I mourned each of them with sincerity, I do not believe I understood true loneliness until Leonard died five years ago.' 'Five years ago?!' Jim looked at me in astonishment. I nodded. 'He was determined to outlive me. I was quite saddened when his body would not allow him that victory.' I took Jim's hand and squeezed as the bond registered the sense of loss we both felt. 'I'm glad you stayed in contact all those years. And when we join Bones, wherever that is, I will have to thank him for taking care of you.' 'As will I, for if he had not pressed the 'importance' of my care into Steven, I am not sure we would both be alive.' Jim brought my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. 'You would have found a way.' I let that hand caress his cheek. 'Even with Steven's expertise, there were times I feared our efforts would be in vain. You were very close to death when I found you.' 'But you opened the bond. You held onto me. How could I not survive, knowing that you needed me?' At that, I let Jim know exactly how much I needed him through the bond. Yes, young one, although our times together are personal and sacred to me, I will do what I can to convey the emotional depths of this time, for I believe you should be fully informed of what a bond with the right person can give you. No, I am not stating that your captain is definitely the right one for you, only that you should seriously consider him. I am aware of the state of your relationship at this point. You said that the two of you have made progress, and are friends, if not easy ones. Listen to what I have to say, then you must evaluate for yourself if you could have the same with your captain. If I may continue? Thank you. Jim felt my need in the bond easily, for I let it flow freely, without restraining any part of it. 'Damn, Spock. Did you have any release while I was gone?' He asked as he took my hand and guided me to the bedroom. 'Only when necessary. The bond would allow no other to take your place.' Jim stopped his steps at my words. "Oh my...Spock, I'm sorry.' 'It is not your fault, Jim. I did not tell you of this consequence. Nor could you stop the nexus from taking you.' I pulled him the rest of the way into the bedroom. 'Still...I wish it had been easier for you.' Jim's face was full of remorse as we undressed. 'It is best not to linger on the past, t'hy'la. The present and future will make up for what I could not have while you were gone.' 'I'll have to make sure of it.' Jim pulled me into bed with a contented sigh. I too was glad to finally have the chance to join with him, but I communicated this through the bond. For a few moments, we lay there on our sides watching each other. Then he smiled at me. 'You know, young people think that they have exclusive rights to sex. They think that people our ages should find a 'safer' way to express our affections.' I raised my eyebrow questioningly. 'Oh, it's true.' Jim chuckled. 'Your godson's not of that mindset, but one or two members of his staff are. I could hear them discussing the wisdom of his 'prescription' outside the door a few days ago.' 'I surmise that you do not agree, however.' 'Of course not, my love.' Jim moved closer until our bodies were touching. 'In fact, I think we have an advantage that those kids don't.' 'And that is?' 'The patience to do it right.' Jim kissed me as humans do, on the lips. Then he did something I had not considered in the few times we had been together physically. He asked me to reciprocate by doing something that felt good to me. So I ran my hand down his chest. We exchanged caresses in tandem, both physical and mental, until the bond hummed. It was satisfied even before we achieved physical release, for, as Jim had said, we used patience. We worked together, we pleasured each other, and the bond rewarded us. Jim described it best, so I will use his words. We flowed into each other. For a time, we understood what it was like to truly be a part of each other. It was truly, finally, the beginning of *us*. That experience is what sustains me now. For the bond is still within me, although I am a universe away from him. To him, it must seem like I was taken by a nexus. I fear the separation will be harder on Jim than it is on me, for I have spent many years burying my needs under the pressures of a logical mind. He has no such defense. But let me end my narrative before I comment further on this. After our time on Earth, we went to Romulus together. I found Jim to be as good an advisor as he was a leader. We worked steadily towards a time where Romulus and the Federation might become allies. We had made an adequate amount of progress when the existence of Romulus was threatened by its own sun. And our time together...it is sufficient to say we were truly together. I am honored to have the memories of our five years together. Five years neither of us expected to have. Jim was instrumental in preparing the defense against the catastrophe that took the planet. He helped the Science Academy prepare the ship by sharing the practical knowledge he had gathered by being a Starfleet captain for thirty years. Even 83 years beyond his last day as captain, his experience was just as useful to them as the calculations I made for engine speed and red matter containment. Yes, I know he still lives. For when I flew the ship towards Romulus' sun, I had taken off from Vulcan, not Romulus. Jim decided to stay on Vulcan so he could monitor my progress on computer as well as through the bond. Romulus did not have adequate equipment to filter out a sun's interference from a subspace communication, but Vulcan did. He was speaking to me through the bond up until the time I went through the blackhole. As I went through it, however, as with the nexus, we were abruptly separated. A wall divided us. He lives and he knows I live, but I cannot communicate with him any longer. Apparently, the multiversal divide will not allow it. But I will continue to try to find a way to reach my bondmate. For Jim had taught me a great deal about hope and love. He also taught me his own axiom of life. I know you have heard it from your own captain, but I will repeat it, for I now ascribe to it. I do not believe in the no-win scenario. --- The End --- Thank you for reading T'hy'la, the second in a four story series. The next story will be Never and Always, which will be a Abrams movie/TOS crossover.