He moved, painfully, to sit on the floor at Christopher's feet and looked up at his mate.
Christopher, do you not know?
It hardly seems possible to Spock that this would have remained hidden for so many years.
Christopher, there is no logic to t'hy'la. My logic and reason could no more keep me from you than I could reverse the tides without utterly destroying them.
It is why the concept is so closely guarded - it renders Spock vulnerable. Not to outside attack - he is just as he has ever been. But, with this acknowledged and named, he is bare and open to Christopher in ways he had not been when they had named nothing, spoken of nothing even to themselves.
Did you know? I felt you collapse. It felt as though my heart would explode out of my side and, at the same time, it felt as though it had ceased to beat, that my blood pounded with only the power of our bond and my heart was a useless, dead thing.
But that was a small cut compared to finding him, hungry and yearning, in your mind, your own longing responding to him as though he were me.
Had I been later, had James T. Kirk's Spock not set himself between you, he would have stolen our bond away from me.
It had been such a near thing, such a terrible thing to contemplate that Spock had not allowed himself to gnaw on the memory for fear he would lose control of himself.
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Date: 2009-10-11 09:08 pm (UTC)Christopher, do you not know?
It hardly seems possible to Spock that this would have remained hidden for so many years.
Christopher, there is no logic to t'hy'la. My logic and reason could no more keep me from you than I could reverse the tides without utterly destroying them.
It is why the concept is so closely guarded - it renders Spock vulnerable. Not to outside attack - he is just as he has ever been. But, with this acknowledged and named, he is bare and open to Christopher in ways he had not been when they had named nothing, spoken of nothing even to themselves.
Did you know? I felt you collapse. It felt as though my heart would explode out of my side and, at the same time, it felt as though it had ceased to beat, that my blood pounded with only the power of our bond and my heart was a useless, dead thing.
But that was a small cut compared to finding him, hungry and yearning, in your mind, your own longing responding to him as though he were me.
Had I been later, had James T. Kirk's Spock not set himself between you, he would have stolen our bond away from me.
It had been such a near thing, such a terrible thing to contemplate that Spock had not allowed himself to gnaw on the memory for fear he would lose control of himself.
I do not doubt you.
It is a small painful admission.
I doubt myself.