Crewmen and officers alike dispersed for him when he moved along the corridor. He heard censure in their silence. Even Nyota was not spared their reticence. Or their ill-hidden pitying glances.

"You're choosing this over us?"

Although it failed to take into account all of the facts, Nyota's accusation was not without merit. That much Spock could not deny. No matter the reasons behind it, this was his choice. He had known - and accepted - that it would bring her a pain both of them might prove unable to move beyond.

He had not expected her to beg. Or for her pleas to hurt. Or for her eventual acceptance of her fate to cause him so much additional anguish.

Spock didn't need to look back to know that she followed. The bond was still there - another unexpected... complication. But his son shifted in his arms and he knew the child watched every step she took. As if his gaze alone could keep her from changing further. Or from disappearing altogether.

He wanted to offer Sanek reassurance: Your mother follows. She will not allow you to be parted. But what would that say about his father?

"You're choosing this over us?"

"This" meant his duty to Starfleet, their mission on the Enterprise and its crew. She had spoken truly. He could not take comfort in denying her words. Only...

"Even parted, you and I cannot be parted. Two years, and then I shall come for you and Sanek."

"What makes you think you'll have a family to come back for?"

Her words struck a cold line of fear through his center. Because he knew - through their bond - that she spoke without anger or malice, but rather with fear of what might one day be truth.

Unlike his colleagues, Spock came to find their new reality less unsettling when Nyota spoke and behaved as child she appeared to be. Her behavior was more acceptable during the few instances he managed to convince himself she reacted as she did solely due to the new-found immaturity. During those rare occurrences where he did not fear she reacted to a justifiable sense of betrayal.

If she was fatigued or frustrated - in anyway thwarted in her efforts to perform in the efficient manner she had been known for before the disaster - she became difficult. In the privacy of their quarters, there was much to debilitate and distress his young wife. Nyota's comprehension of her own emotions was too tenuous for her to adequately articulate. Sanek was too young to understand how his confusion pained her.

"Want my real mama!"

Spock did not say, "I need to have a wife again," but he could not avoid her awareness of the fact.

Work, denied to her immediately after the change, appeared to be a solution, though not an ideal one.

The same tenacity that had been admirable in the student and in the officer translated to an obdurate mulishness in the girl. Upon learning that fingers which had once been able to utilize - and when need be, repair - delicate communications equipment now lacked the dexterity for tasks as simple as properly fastening her uniforms, she had been intractable and petulant. Preparing her to leave their quarters was a trial until the quartermaster redesigned her clothing to suit her changed needs.

Kirk had been reluctant to restore her to her duty station; he'd had little choice in the face of Doctor McCoy's certification.

"She may look like a kid, Jim," Leonard advised on more than one occasion. "But inside that head of hers, she's still mostly Lieutenant Uhura, Chief Communications Officer. There might be a few issues with how she processes her emotions, and with impulse control, but doing nothing all day is probably making things worse."

Leonard turned to Spock to endorse his analysis of her situation. Spock did not argue because he knew the doctor's conclusion was correct, even if the man failed to discern the true cause of the evident result.

"She's married to a Vulcan, Jim! The bond's still in place, right Spock? He'll keep her in check."

Nyota's first weeks back on the bridge was surprisingly successful. With a very few modifications to her station and schedule, she performed as well as their captain had come to expect. Her smiles came more easily. Mister Sulu even ventured to joke about her altered state without fear of repercussions.

Only she and Spock knew what the effort cost her.

The tears and tantrums that ended her only source of comfort didn't come until the fourth week after... until her third week back at her station.

Only Spock believed her suffering was entirely his fault.

That she did not blame him for the disaster only served to enhance his guilt. And his grief.

Nyota reached his side and reached for his hand. He could not rebuff her offer of a return to amicability.

But her whispered "I'm sorry," accompanied by a blooming of genuine regret, was nearly his undoing.

_______________________________________________

Bond and Free, Robert Frost

Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about-
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turn, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world's embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius' disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.