Epilogue

'Are you happy, Spock?' Amanda asked her son quietly, as they sat together in the cooling evening.

Kirk had called Spock less than half an hour ago to tell him that leave had been approved for both him and Chapel. They were intending to beam back to the ship later in order to organise those things they would need for their prolonged stay. Spock had hardly expected his few weeks of leave on Vulcan to become such an extended and convoluted affair. For now, however, while Christine was embroiled in a discussion with the Vulcans about the recent events at the Academy, he had come to spend a few quiet minutes with his mother in the peace of her rose garden.

Spock exhaled at his mother's question, turning his cane in his hands. She had not spoken until now, but he had been able to sense her desire to speak for some minutes.

'Is that a question to ask a Vulcan, mother?' he replied.

'It's a question to ask my son. It's a question to ask *you*, Spock,' she said, touching a hand to his. 'As you sit here, with a woman that you cherish just inside the house, with your relationship with your father better than it's been in twenty years.'

'And with the certainty of blindness weighing upon me,' Spock reminded her. 'I ask you again – is that a question to ask me?'

'Yes,' she insisted. 'It is. I've seen you over the past few weeks. You're proven to me that you can be happy despite your blindness. You've been shaken by this news – but I think you *can* be happy.'

Spock placed the cane carefully on the seat beside him, and gave his mother a hint of smile.

'I think perhaps I can,' he nodded. 'Hence my double resolve, to address my – emotional inconsistencies – here on Vulcan, and to renew my efforts to discover a solution to my blindness. But the former *must* be done before I can dedicate myself to the latter. I must reconcile myself to my blindness while I have no certainty of regaining my sight. I have to know that, should my search fail, I will be able to live my life with equanimity.'

There was a moment of silence, and then his mother leaned across and swiftly kissed the tip of his ear. Spock turned his head, startled at the sudden, seemingly motiveless demonstration of affection.

'Mother – ' he began.

'I have that right,' she told him, smiling. 'I'm your mother. And I can see through all of that so-Vulcan façade, and all of your logic and duty, and tell when you need a little human reassurance. I hope Christine can do that too.'

Spock inclined his head.

'I believe that she can,' he said. 'I believe that I can, too,' he added. 'Are *you* happy, mother?'

There was a brief hesitation, before she said, 'Of course I am, Spock. I'm getting my little boy back home for a little longer.'

'I am hardly a little boy,' Spock corrected her.

She laughed softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. 'I look at you sometimes and wonder where my baby went,' she said musingly. 'That little baby who used to cling to me for protection against the wide world. Then I wonder where my little boy went, and my troubled teenager. But other times I look at you, and I see all of them, all in you.'

'And are you happy?' Spock persisted. It made him unaccountably uncomfortable to have her talk of him in such a way. He had tried very hard to distance himself from the child he once was.

'Yes, Spock, I'm happy,' she told him honestly. 'I won't pretend I can think of your blindness without regret. I hate to think of anything that hurts you or holds you back. But I am happy. I'm content with my life, with my husband, and with my son.'

Spock nodded. He was momentarily struck with a curiosity to know what his life would have been like if his parents hadn't decided that the birth of one successful child was the logical place to stop. What would his siblings have been like…?

'Come on,' his mother said, touching his arm. 'It's time we went back inside. I think T'Mir's taken Christine under her wing, but it doesn't seem fair to leave her alone in a room full of Vulcans for too long.'

'She is not averse to Vulcan company,' Spock pointed out.

'Perhaps not,' Amanda conceded, 'but I have supper to prepare for eight people, plus Captain Kirk and Dr McCoy. I was hoping you and Christine could give me some help in the kitchen.'

'Of course,' Spock nodded. 'You're certain you're happy for Miss Chapel to stay on here with me after the ship leaves?' he asked as he stood. He took her arm despite barely needing to do so. 'It will only be until we find alternative accommodation.'

'You know you don't need to find somewhere else to stay,' his mother protested, putting her free hand on his as they began to make their way back through the garden, brushing against scented blossoms as they moved.

'Yes, I know that,' Spock nodded. 'But you understand my reasons.'

'Yes, I do,' she smiled. 'And we're quite happy for you both to stay until you find a house. When our guests have gone I'll put you in one of the guest rooms, if you don't mind an unfamiliar room? We could move a double into yours, of course…'

'That is not necessary,' Spock reassured her. 'You've noticed over the past weeks, have you not, that I am quite capable of managing despite my blindness?'

'Yes, I have noticed that,' she nodded. 'I'm very proud of you, Spock. Sarek is too, even if he won't say it.'

'I have done what is necessary to maintain a certain standard of living. And an unfamiliar room will be no problem,' Spock said, glossing over her emotional statement.

'Yes, I suppose if you can defeat interplanetary terrorists and set the progress of world-wide discussions back on track practically single-handed you can adjust to a new set of bearings,' his mother admitted with a hint of mischief. 'Sarek tells me that we're pretty much assured of a vote for alien admission. I think the shock of all of this violence has actually helped to cement a unity against the terrorists' objectives.'

'There is a certain pleasing irony in that,' Spock replied. 'Although you can hardly use the phrase 'single-handed', mother. A very large amount of Starfleet force was instrumental in sealing the terrorists' defeat, not to mention help from native Vulcans such as T'Pring.'

'T'Pring! I meant to tell you. We had a call from T'Pring earlier,' his mother said, glancing sideways at her son as she spoke. 'She wanted to take her leave of you.'

Spock nodded. Discussing T'Pring with his mother was a little like discussing the other protagonist in a difficult break-up. By the inflection his mother put on T'Pring's name it was obvious that Amanda would not easily forgive her for rejecting her son and endangering his life.

'A curiously human desire,' Spock said. 'No matter. I will return her call later.'

'Well, I told her you were staying on,' his mother said, almost apologetically. 'She – er – announced her intention of paying you a visit. She said she was interested to meet Christine properly after her introduction at VanAhr.'

Spock's eyebrow rose. T'Pring was, indeed, a fascinating character. Her desire was not, he was certain, to take leave of him, but to satiate a curiosity over his chosen human partner.

'In that case, perhaps I would be best cancelling my leave,' Spock said, with the kind of perfectly straight face that only a Vulcan could achieve.

'Oh, Spock – ' Amanda began, then slapped him lightly on the hand when she realised that he was joking. 'Well, I don't envy Christine the meeting, anyway,' she said with feeling.

'Miss Chapel is quite capable of holding her own,' Spock told her. 'You seem to believe she requires special protection from encounters with Vulcans, mother. I hope you don't include me in that bracket?'

'I don't bracket you with anyone, Spock,' his mother said affectionately. 'You're my son. You're quite unique. You're perfect, walking, living proof that people like the Hornerians shouldn't triumph – and won't triumph. Isolation stagnates, while you – '

'Continue,' Spock murmured. 'I – continue. It is only logical.'

'Beautifully, blessedly logical,' his mother smiled, impulsively kissing him again as they went in through the door. 'And I wouldn't have it any other way.'