All Else Confusion: Chapter Two of Eight.
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Sanek's hand was warm in hers as she led him from their quarters. She felt his fear, but also his love and trust flowing through the familial bond. The irony of the last wasn't lost on Uhura.
Her son had known her the moment he saw her again. The bond, at least, hadn't been broken. But it hadn't been enough to make him accept her.
"Want my real mama!"
Even the memory of his words sent a knife of pain slicing through her. Tears she refused to shed threatened again. She tried to be grateful that she'd relearned to shield her emotions from him.
Not fast enough.
Her little boy aimed a sharp look her way instead of watching where he was going. He stumbled. Her free hand shot out to keep him from falling.
Instinct. Protect what you love. Keep him safe. If only...
"Easy, baby," she whispered while he tried to find his feet. The urge to hug him to her was nearly overwhelming.
Eyes like his father's bore into hers.
Could he still feel her fear? Her shame? Her guilt? Uhura turned away.
Can't even meet a toddler's gaze. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
"Mama?" Sanek's voice was a tiny shadow of Spock's rich tenor. He had not called her that in two months.
Would he still call her that after today? Did he even understand what was happening.
"Spock," she gasped, hating the sound of her own diminished voice. Hating that she couldn't be what Sanek needed her to be. What Spock needed her to be.
Silently, her husband gathered their son in his arms.
Saying more was unnecessary. The bond was still there. The memories remained.
Uhura didn't know what to do with any of it. A million words and more at her disposal, and she hadn't been able to find the ones to tell Spock why she needed him. She couldn't begin to imagine how she would relearn to be his wife.
He started walking down the corridor again, away from the life they'd shared, without looking back to see if she followed.
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Chapter title comes from the Fifth Canto of
The Princes, A Medley, Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
"When the man wants weight, the woman takes it up,
And topples down the scales; but this is fixt
As are the roots of earth and base of all;
Man for the field and woman for the hearth:
Man for the sword and for the needle she:
Man with the head and woman with the heart:
Man to command and woman to obey;
All else confusion."
Know the poem... know my feelings on its subject.