Spock, and therefore his family, halted just inside the room. He was unable to explain his reluctance to continue over to the transporter pads. For many reasons - perhaps even for some he had not yet considered - sending his wife away for the remaining two years of their mission was the most reasonable option.

Away from the stresses of a starship, Nyota would be able to fulfill her duties to Starfleet in a capacity more suitable to her current manifestation. The situation was not ideal, but being able to work again would relieve some of her frustration. Evidence-driven conjecture suggested that leaving Enterprise would also increase the probability of her remaining unharmed over the next two years and nineteen days.

While no place in the galaxy could be considered truly free from danger - history had borne that out in the a most devastating fashion - members of Starfleet were statistically more likely to incur injury while serving on extra-planetary assignments.

It was also logical for Sanek to leave. More so, in fact. The child had no duties on the ship and had only spent almost the entirety of his life within its confines because of Jim Kirk's reluctance to lose two of his senior officers. Even if Nyota had not declared "I won't let you make me leave my son!" Spock would have insisted the two go together.

The two persons most significant to him would be leaving him behind in a matter of hours. Under the circumstances, it was wholly logical, and even preferable, that they should do so. Spock could not deny, at least to himself, that he preferred not to be separated from them.

Several factors hindered the adjustment, and even impeded most of Doctor McCoy's recommendations for easing Nyota's adaptation to her new state.

In spite of her affronted silences and, later, sharp rebukes, the most of the crew - only the chief medical officer, in a reversal of what was the norm, could be said to consistently succeed in following his own counsel - often had to be reminded to address her as "Lieutenant Uhura." Even Spock was hard-pressed not to refer to his wife by her given name when not in their quarters.

He blamed his own difficulties with adhering meticulously to protocol to his difficulties in achieving a truly beneficial meditative state. He surmised the majority of the ship's residents addressed her as "Sweetie," "Honey" or other, equally patronizing terms simply because they were overly-influenced by her external appearance.

Much to Spock's dismay, and to Nyota's distress, their son was among that majority. In spite of the familial bond that allowed him to recognize her immediately, when Sanek called her anything at all, the word he invariably chose was "Girl."

Spock had borne witness to Nyota's pain when, during their first meeting after the regression, Sanek had violently retreated from her attempt to embrace him, shoving her away and yelling, "No!"

Although the depth of her reaction had been nearly disabling, he had not muted the bond or shielded his own emotions from her. At the time, he had still believed in his ability to bring her comfort. Only after the... disagreements became a daily event - twenty days after she was excluded from the bridge - did he seek refuge in solitude.

It was, Spock reasoned, a choice that benefited his wife as much as him.

An incident that could easily have ended in tragedy occurred before he realized his mistake.

The night Sanek went missing, he and Nyota disagreed again. Rather, then repeated the same disagreement they had been having, whenever she felt particularly emotionally vulnerable - although he did not become of aware that this was the cause until later - since their return to the ship after completing the mission.

She wanted to sleep in their bed. Spock explained, again, why she must take her rest in the small bed next to Sanek's cot in the nursery. He did not realize that her apparent capitulation was in reality something quite different.

Because he had subdued the bond, because he rarely allowed any physical contact that could result in an empathic link, Spock didn't know that, instead of retiring to her bed, having seen the logic of his argument, Nyota had retreated to the nursery to cry herself to sleep.

He did not know that their son had sensed her distress.

Given Sanek's recent interactions with Nyota, Spock could not have guessed that the child would attempt to alleviate her anguish.

Both parents had been pleased to learn that Nyota's affliction did not interfere with her maternal bond with Sanek. However much the toddler rejected her, she remained acutely aware of his location and attuned to his welfare at all times. Although she was atypically psi-sensitive for a human, she seemed to lack the ability to ignore that aspect of the connection. As he knew she drew a measure of comfort from the knowledge drawn from it, Spock had never endeavored to learn why that was the case.

It never occurred to him that she might experience emotional upheaval sufficient to hinder that awareness.

Spock left that night, content in the knowledge that if anything pertaining to their son went amiss, Nyota would interrupt his meeting with the captain.

It never occurred to him that she would not know when Sanek tried to leave their quarters.

The memory of her face - dominated by wild, frantic eyes during the first forty-nine minutes of Sanek's absence, followed by sixteen minutes of tears and finally, ending with seventy minutes of a calm he knew owed nothing to tranquility - haunted Spock through hours of meditation over the following week.

Even the sight of Sanek, sleeping in Lieutenant Sulu's arms, wilted flowers clutched in his tiny hand, had failed to rouse her.

Only after Sanek awoke and issued a fearful "Girl?" when his unresponsive mother did not accept his offering did she seem to become aware of her surroundings again.

McCoy diagnosed her behavior as a mild post-traumatic stress- and separation-anxiety-related reaction.

"She doesn't really have an outlet for the things she's feeling, Spock," the doctor explained. "She's got this adult-level intelligence, and all the memories of what she as like before. Think about it! She's constantly surrounded by reminders of what she should be able to do, what she should be able to handle, but can't. And she doesn't have the equipment to process her emotions.

"To have to be a mother on top of that? I don't understand how she's doing as well as she is. I never thought I'd be the one to admit this to you, but it's a good thing she's married to a Vulcan. That hoo-doo you two have going on is probably the only thing holding her together."

Spock did not mention the cloaked bond. He did not admit that he was the reason his wife was, as humans said, "falling apart."

__________

He resumed his forward momentum, moving his family towards the transporter pads, and towards a life none of them truly wanted.

Knowing that she would likely discern the truth, eventually - once she was able to see beyond her chaotic emotions: guilt, fear, confusion, pain - Spock had used Nyota's love for their son to secure her initial agreement to the temporary separation.

"These past months have been difficult enough for you and me. Sanek is too young to fully understand what has happened to you, and he will continue to react in ways we cannot predict. He will be safer somewhere else."

He'd decided it best that his wife and son send the two years on Earth with her parents.

"They raised three offspring to adulthood," he had reasoned. "Your mother's work for the Diplomatic Corps exposed them to many unusual circumstances. Moreover, as the Federation's most renown Xenopsychiatrist, your father would undoubtedly be able to discover a method to help you both adapt.'

"Sanek is more Vulcan than any of us thought he would be," Nyota had countered in spite of her reluctance to leave at all. "He needs a Vulcan to guide him. Baba might be the best, but he's not Vulcan. We'd be better off with your his father."

As gratifying as it was to know that their son's welfare remained first priority, Spock had not been willing to completely dismiss his wife's security and happiness.

"Sarek has no experience meeting the emotional needs of a human child. Sanek is not at an age where his needs are exceedingly different from-"

She'd cut him off, outrage and fear nearly obliterating the despair in her eyes. "You don't know that for certain! I will not risk my son's health on an unsubstantiated supposition."

Tears had been flowing down her cheeks by the time she'd stammered out the final two words, lisping over the sibilant consonants.

"I won't!" she'd repeated, folding stick-like arms over her narrow chest. And in the defiance emanating from her stance and her glare, he recognized the futility of further argument.

In the end, they had agreed that his t'dahsu was uniquely equipped to serve both Sanek's needs and her own. There would be some small comfort in knowing that his wife and child were in the care of another Spock, and that the Federation's foremost human xenopsychiatrist was monitoring all of them.

But as the transporter beam prepared to disassemble their molecules, his only thought was that in less than forty-eight hours, he would return to the Enterprise alone.

_______________________________________________

Two yeas should be negligible for a being who could reasonably expect to live more than two hundred. For a being with a nearly eidetic memory, however, two years spent away from those who presence was most important was... nearly unbearable.

Occasional live subspace contact did not make up for holding his son in his arms. Letters about Sanek's physical, mental and telepathic progress were a poor substitute for observing it, himself.

Of his wife, he knew little beyond what his older counterpart and father-in-law shared in almost clinical accounts detailing her own adjustment.

Still, though the passage of the time was not easily endured, Spock knew the decision had been necessary.

__________

"She has declined to speak with me?"

Spock kept his expression neutral as he faced the viewscreen. His t'dahsu did not. The look his older self gave him was plainly calculating. He wondered if the ambassador emeritus found him wanting. Such an assessment could not be ascribed to faulty logic. Spock was fully acquainted with many of his own deficiencies.

But after a moment, the older Spock gave a thoughtful nod. The younger couldn't determine whether the accompanying conclusion was positive, negative or neutral.

"The separation was... very painful for her at first. You are aware that I began my intervention almost immediately, but you do not know that before her father was able to come and offer his assistance, I had little success. She endured a great deal of hurt before she even approached Mastery."

Spock Tela'at looked away from the screen, his expression softening a he focused on something outside the younger Spock's field of vision. Or perhaps, he thought, someone.

"I do not believe she will remain detached. I do not think she can. Give her time, t'dahsu," the elder said, facing forward again.

Spock was noncommittal. "I find the human maxim 'time heals all wounds'- especially as it relates to the female of the species - to be fallacious."

"The statement is not factual," his counterpart conceded. "However, I believe Menander never intended for it to be taken as a factual statement. He was one of Athens's New Comedians, and therefore prone to creating characters who spouted aphorisms without necessarily living up to their wisdom. Perhaps the true value of the saying is as a goal to strive for."

"If that is the case, then I have failed in still another endeavor."

His t'dahsu made no attempt to hide the rebuke in his next sharp look. "You and your Nyota are still alive," he chided. "Time still has... time for you both."

_____

Sanek was more accommodating than his mother.

"How soon, Baba?"

"The Enterprise will reach T'Khasian orbit in forty-seven standard hours. That is nearly two standard days. I will join you there soon after that."

"How soon?" Sanek demanded.

"I do not know, sa-fu," Spock replied. Honestly remained a Vulcan's first choice.

His son's smile - so like his wife's - did not falter.

"I'm happy, Sa-mekh!"

__________

Benjamin Uhura was not an unpleasant companion. He did not attempt to make "small talk." Nor did he offer Spock assurances that could not be guaranteed. The xenopsychiatrist merely added to the intelligence he had been in the habit of supplying since Nyota and Sanek had gone to live on T'Khasi Vokaya.

"I don't need to tell you how stubborn my daughter can be," Dr. Uhura said as the walked through the transport terminal. "But perhaps a reconfirmation of her facility for forbearance is warranted."

Spock only nodded slightly. Up ahead, three distinctive figures stood waiting.

__________

In spite of the warm weight of his son in his lap, Spock felt bemused and somewhat excluded. Before the group entered the relative seclusion of the hovercar, Sanek had been as reserved and solemnly respectful as any well-trained fully-Vulcan child his age. But he had watched Spock's every move, as if he was afraid his father might disappear at any moment.

Everything about his son's demeanor had changed once the vehicle's doors were sealed. Spock had settled Sanek sideways in his lap so that they could continue their reciprocal surveillance as the child recounted two years worth of activities and accomplishments. Though he spoke in an unpredictable mix of Vulcan and Kiswahili, none of his fellow passengers appeared to have any trouble following his narrative. Spock Tela'at and Dr. Uhura occasionally clarified a point at the little boy's request. When the two older men offered differing perspective on an outing six months before, Sanek twisted around to consult his mother's opinion.

He took advantage of his son's distraction to watch his wife. A small smile lifted the corners of her lips as she disputed her father's version of the event. And yet her expression held all of the serenity he'd thought lost when Eshu had changed so much of her. It occurred to him that perhaps he had not erred irreparably and he nearly gave in to an impulse to smile back.

Hope, he realized. I am hopeful.

"Wait!" Sanek's exclamation stole Spock's attention. "Why do you say 'Baba' when you mean 'Babu,' Mama?"

Nyota's smile grew even though her lips were pressed firmly together. Spock recognized the signs of suppressed laughter.

"Your babu is Mama's father," he explained. "Just as your sa-mekh'al is my father."

Sanek frowned in concentration. "But Mama calls Sa-mekh'al 'Sa-mekh,'" he pointed out. "And Sa-mekh-siyah does, too. But Sa-mekh'al calls him 'Spock' and he calls you 'Spock' and Mama-"

"Perhaps a meld would of benefit?" suggested the elder half-Vulcan.

Spock suspected his counterpart and Dr. Uhura found his son's behavior as funny Nyota appeared to.

"Surely he's too young?" Spock was too surprised at the proposal to join in the general amusement.

"He is," his t'dahsu said, "nearly a Terran year older we were when our father first melded with us."

The reminder of how much of his son's life he had missed was sharp, and Spock found himself looking to the young girl who was nevertheless his wife for comfort or reassurance or possibly encouragement. He wasn't certain which was required. She gave a small nod, her eyes soft as they fell to the boy in his lap.

It was the work of moments to untangle his son's confusion. Sanek's mind was supple and eager for knowledge. At the conclusion of the meld he simply said, "Oh" and then settled back against his father's chest to observe their fellow passengers.

Above the boy's head, Spock met Nyota's approving gaze. All at once it seemed unnecessary to continue shrouding the bond. The girl before him was different from the child who had been unable to move beyond her fears and frustrations on the Enterprise.

He set about dismantling the walls he had constructed more than two years before, to protect himself as much as to safeguard her. It was difficult not to hurry in anticipation of sensing her presence after such a prolonged absence, but he did not wish to startle her with what she might perceive as an abrupt intrusion.

The last of the shields fell away, and Spock opened himself up, ready to welcome his wife back to her place in his mind.

Five minutes filled with solitude, each one feeling like an eternity, passed before he accepted that she had learned to shut him away from herself.

_______________________________________________

Title comes from: "Time is healer of all necessary ills. And even you he now will heal." - Menander, from one of the unidentified fragments.