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Amalgamation (4/9)
Always shall be
annenburg
Title: Amalgamation
Chapter: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Spock/Kirk
Warnings: Sexual content, language, AU, hermaphrodism, general blasphemy, etc.
Summary: As a half-Vulcan, Spock never expects to imprint. It's rare enough for a full-blooded Vulcan to imprint, so why should he have it easy? But he does imprint – on the delinquent who sabotaged his Kobayashi Maru. And everything he once knew is about to change.

 

He is compromised.

 

Spock does not know how Kirk managed to return to the ship, and to be honest he no longer cares. He is emotionally compromised, has given the man command – and yet he is somehow more relieved than he could have imagined. Kirk is with him again. All should be right in the world.

 

But it simply can’t be. He can’t be.

 

He finds himself at the transport pad. His mother did not make it here. This is where he lost her.

 

Could she have approved of his imprint, even when he does not? What advice would she have given him, even unasked? What confidences would she have held?

 

“Speak your mind, Spock.”

 

He will never know.

 

“That would be unwise,” he replies, not looking at his father. His eyes stay on the pad. She must’ve been terrified. Having felt human terror now, he understands it. He knows he cannot change what happened, but he still wonders. He should have held her.

 

“What is necessary is never unwise.”

 

He still cannot face the man who sired him. “I am as conflicted as I once was as a child,” he says, looking for a moment longer at the pad.

 

“You will always be a child of two worlds,” he hears his father say, his voice deep and calm. Always calm. “I am grateful for this. And for you.”

 

And now, Spock cannot help but turn to his father. The man stands straight, looking him straight in the eye. “I feel anger for the one who took Mother’s life,” he says lowly, gathering his thoughts as a wave of nervousness flows through his bond with Kirk. “An anger I cannot control.”

 

His father approaches. “I believe…that she would say, ‘do not try to’,” he informs him, standing face to face at last. There is a strange look in his eyes. “You asked me once why I married your mother. I married her because I loved her.”

 

Shock permeates his mind, and it takes him a moment to realize it did not come from the bond – it is his own. Genuine, powerful shock. He breathes deeply, knowing now is the only chance he may ever have to know.

 

“Did you imprint on her?”

 

The older Vulcan is still for a long moment, silent – and he nods. “It was unprecedented,” he says gently. “No Vulcan had ever imprinted upon one of another species. To this day, I remain the only one. Though it took some time for the council to believe what had occurred, the bond was accepted and I was permitted to marry her. Your birth and development have proven the capacity of our species mixed, and should another bond be made between a human and a Vulcan, there should be no complications.”

 

Spock closes his eyes, letting Kirk’s idle thoughts and feelings fill him. This should not be right. This should not be at all.

 

“I have imprinted,” he manages, a wave of relief leaving him with the words. It is done. He has admitted it. He opens his eyes again. His father is unreadable. “I have imprinted on a human. A human male.”

 

There is a long moment of silence, and then his father nods. “Thus you asked me about your reproductive capabilities,” he says quietly. “Have you mated with him?”

 

Spock shakes his head. “He is not yet aware of the bond,” he replies, trying to be every bit as confident as he should be. His father cocks his head at the slightest angle, and Spock breathes again. “I have yet to find an opportunity to inform him of what has happened.”

 

His father nods. “The opportunity will come,” he states, his eyes traveling to the transport pad. For a moment, he is completely silent. His expression is as blank as Spock has ever seen it, and yet something has changed. His shoulders, perhaps, or the tension around his eyes. His father somehow looks aged, exhausted – for a moment, he even looks human.

 

“If I may, I would like to have this room to myself,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on the pad. Spock stares. “I wish to say goodbye to your mother.”

 

Spock feels his breath catch in his throat. A week ago, either of them would have pointed out the irrationality of such a statement, of such an action. Now Spock understands – as does his father, evidently. He nods, bowing out of the room as quietly as he can, vowing to himself to do the same later.  For now, he moves to the turbolift, keying in the bridge.

 

<><><><><><><><><><> 

 

There is no time to discuss anything with Jim before they prepare to beam onto Nero’s ship. Nyota moves to kiss him, and he allows it, aware that everyone is staring. He can feel her adoration, and he cannot let it continue.

 

“I am sorry,” he murmurs against her lips, so softly that he knows only her trained ears will pick it up. She does not pull back. “I have someone else, Nyota.”

 

He feels the revelation hit her, the disappointment and fear, and then she pulls back out of the kiss. For all the discomfort and aggravation she has caused him, she is still a friend. She recognizes it herself, and he leans into her again, desperate for some sort of comfort again.  “I will be back, Nyota.”

 

She is calm, determined. Comforting. “You’d better be,” she says quietly, her brown eyes meeting his. There is a shimmer there, but she seems able to control herself. “I will be monitoring your frequency.”

 

He and Jim are well matched; Spock is nearly surprised with how well their mission is proceeding. They do not speak much, and honestly Spock cannot think of much to say. Considering they are likely about to die, he supposes this might be for the best. What little conversation they have is stilted and about altogether the wrong things.

 

He hopes there will be time to truly talk later.

 

<><><><><><><><><><> 

 

Their trip home will be long. Spock calculates it will take approximately three weeks at full impulse to reach the nearest base to restock their dilithium reserves, and once warp is reestablished the rest of their voyage should be completed within three more days. It is dangerous, particularly with the ship so damaged and undersupplied, but there is nothing to be done.

 

Nyota seeks him out two days into the voyage, entering his quarters without so much as a request. He raises an eyebrow at her boldness, but permits her to enter, gesturing for her to take a seat on the bed as he finishes his third debriefing for the admiralty. She is patient, but not stupid; he knows he cannot keep her waiting for too long, and as soon as he’s managed to sign his name, he turns to face her, straightening his shoulders.

 

“Nyota,” he greets her evenly. He has not spoken to her since before he beamed upon the Narada, and he knows she has been seeking him out since. “I suppose I do owe you some explanation.”

 

“Yeah,” she says firmly. Her hands clench in her lap, legs crossed at the ankles. She is angry, he recognizes, and she has every right to be. “How long have you been seeing this other person?”

 

Spock breathes once to maintain his control. “I have not been ‘seeing’ anyone, Nyota,” he explains, watching her blink with confusion. “It is something of greater significance than a developing romantic interlude.”

 

Her eyes widen, and he waits for her reaction. “You imprinted,” she whispers, and now it is Spock’s turn to be surprised. Imprinting is not discussed with outsiders – it is on the level of Pon Farr, kept secret from even visiting physicians to Vulcan. She swallows noisily. “Oh. Of course you did. When?”

 

She is handling this remarkably well, all things considered. Spock clears his throat. “A few days before we left earth,” he says vaguely. She is and remains, for all her naivety, his best student, and she is brilliant. With even the smallest amount of information, he knows she could likely determine the identity of his imprint. Until he has had the opportunity to speak with Jim, he cannot permit this. “You are familiar with imprinting?”

 

Nyota’s face reddens tellingly. “I researched Vulcan courtship rituals a little after I became your student,” she explains. “I had thought we might become something more than just student and teacher. I know it was stupid, but I thought there was some chemistry between us.”

 

A telling chime informs Spock that a message has arrived for him on his PADD; he ignores it, instead leaning forward to look Nyota in the eye.

 

“You are an attractive woman,” he admits, and her eyes flick to her lap and back. He knows to choose his words carefully with her – there is much awkwardness already between them, and he does not wish to lose her companionship. “You are quite intelligent, and beyond all that you understand the subtleties of cultural differences and language. I paid you more attention than many of my students due to these things. It was perfectly reasonable to extrapolate, given the input you had received, that I would seek and pursue a romantic involvement with you.”

 

“But erroneous,” she says. Her eyes shine for a moment with unshed tears, but a moment later, she blinks them away. Her lips twitch once – a motion between a smile and a frown, and he raises an eyebrow. “Does Kirk know that you two are soul mates yet?”

 

Spock feels his shoulders tense as he processes her words. “Nyota—”

 

She laughs lightly, airily, and he sees for a moment how he could have loved her. She swipes a hand across her eyes, and he realizes she might not be as adjusted to her position in his life as he thought. “Trust me, Spock. It is not obvious,” she manages, giving him a small smile. “Not to anyone else, at least. But I know Kirk’s the only one it could be. He can make you emotional – something I do not think anyone else could do. He riles you up and calms you down, and you’ve only known him for a matter of days. I can’t imagine anyone else it could be.”

 

The half Vulcan shifts in his seat. “Your deduction is correct,” he confirms, looking her in the eye. “However, I have not had the opportunity to speak with him about this. I trust everything pertaining to this discussion will not leave this room, Nyota.”

 

“Of course,” she agrees. She’s quiet, but only for a moment. “You know, of all the people you could’ve imprinted on, Kirk would be the last one I would expect.”

 

Spock nods. “I find myself thinking the same thing,” he confesses. “I certainly would not have chosen him of my own will.”

 

She uncrosses her ankles and smoothes her skirt. “Maybe it is for the best,” she says, standing and looking down at him. Spock feels oddly like a child for a moment, but disregards it. “You make something of him, Commander. You might be the only one who can.”

 

Spock raises an eyebrow at her humor. “I will endeavor to do precisely that, though I doubt that his personality permits anything of the sort,” he agrees. He stays seated, returning his attention to his PADD once more. “Thank you for the conversation, Nyota.”

 

“Anytime,” she says. Then he hears the door swish open, then closed. He does not need to look up to know that he is alone once more, and perhaps it is for the best.

 

He opens the message that had reached his PADD during their discussion. It is a request from Starfleet for an explanation of his actions in jettisoning an escape pod onto Delta Vega. A pang strikes him behind his sternum, and he realizes it is precisely where a human’s heart would be.

 

He is wrong. He should not be alone.

 

Gathering his courage, he stands, shuts off his PADD, and breathes deeply. “Computer. Locate crewman Kirk.”

NEXT CHAPTER


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Oh, man. I'm glad you don't go into too much detail about the things that happened in the movie. You used just the perfect amount of canon in your story to make me really visualize each scene.

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