Searching for Solutions

154 3 0
                                    

McCoy poured over the newest scans of Jim's body. He compared them to the previous ones, searching for any change, any clue.

In comparing the scans, it looked like there might be a minute drop in temporal energy weaving around and through Jim's body. Maybe. It was so small that McCoy couldn't really be sure it was there at all and not just his wishful thinking.

McCoy rubbed his eyes and laid his head on his desk. He had a splitting headache. There was no point in trying to push through right now. It would only serve to exasperate his headache. He would get some new scans and some new blood from Jim when they came for lunch.

He had to admit it was cute how attached to Spock little Jim was. McCoy had often thought that there might be some feelings of the nonplatonic varity going on there. And while there had never been any conclusive evidence, Jim evidently trusted Spock more than anyone else on board, including him.

He'd be slightly annoyed if it wasn't so damn cute! Jim was an adorable child. McCoy had had to restrain himself from cooing at him when Jim threatened him over his "insult" to Spock.

His train of thought led to Spock. Spock seemed more emotional than usual. McCoy found this concerning. Meditation was essential to Vulcans. He suspected that Spock had not been able to properly meditate since Jim became young. It would be difficult to do with Jim always connected to him.

He groaned, thumping his head on the desk. He really needed to figure out a solution fast. He needed to fix this before Spock lost his shit, or whatever it was that happened to Vulcans when they didn't meditate. He stood up and began running different tests on the blood samples he already had. He had to find a way to fix this. They were all depending on him.

**************

Spock worked on his padd for the next few hours while Jim played quietly on the bed with his new toys. Spock listened with half an ear to the child's mumbling and soft giggles. The sounds brought a surge of protectiveness up in him.

How could anyone, much less his own mother, treat him the way she had? And from what Jim had said, he wouldn't be surprised if things were actually worse at home than he was aware of.

A growl escaped Spock before he could stop himself. He needed to meditate badly. His emotional control was starting to slip.

Jim's head shot up. "Spock?" He whimpered. "I'm sorry! Was I being too loud? I'll be quieter! I promise! I'll be quiet! Please!"

He clutched the stuffed bear to his chest as if he were afraid it would be taken from him. His blue eyes began to fill with tears. Spock cursed himself internally. He immediately dropped the padd and rushed to the child's to reassure him.

"No, Jim. I am not unhappy with you. You were not being too loud, and I promise I will never take your toys away from you. They were a gift. They are your property and, therefore, not mine to take. They belong to you. Do you understand?"

Jim nodded timidly, desperately trying to hold his tears back. Spock continued.

"That being said, I am angry. However, I am not angry with you. I am simply angered that you have been treated in an unkind manner. It was not right. You deserve to be protected. I wish you had never had to experience such unkindness at the hands of those who were supposed to protect you."

He couldn't hold back anymore, and the tears in Jim's eyes spilled over. They rolled down his cheeks as his chest heaved with heavy sobs.

"Do you really mean it?" He gasped out. He struggled to catch his breath between sobs, trying, in vain, to stop crying.

"Yes. I do. With all my heart."

And with that, Spock gathered the crying boy into his arms. What little control the child had left dissolved at the comforting contact. He wailed loudly, dropping the stuffed bear in favor of clutching at Spock.

Tiny Hands, Sad EyesWhere stories live. Discover now