Fic: Life of Syvek, Pt. 2

Part 1

Two years, four months, seventeen days old

“Give it!” Syvek demanded, stomping his foot and holding out an expectant hand.

“I’m sorry, honey, but I can’t do that,” Uhura answered sweetly. She held Spock’s lyre close to her chest, higher than the toddler could reach.

“I wannit back!” he whined.

From where he was sitting across the rec room, Kirk felt the beginnings of a tantrum coiling within the parental bond. He’d been watching his son and the communications officer since Syvek had wandered over to listen to her play. When Uhura had set down the lyre to rest for a moment, Syvek’s sticky hands had pulled the instrument off the table faster than a womp rat chasing a profogg. Naturally, Uhura had snatched it back before Syvek could wreak his indelible havoc on the unsuspecting lyre. Just as naturally, Syvek was pissed.

“Please excuse me for a moment, Mr. Scott,” Kirk said, rising. He crossed the room as quickly as he could without drawing anyone’s attention to the potential scene.

“I know you want it, and I understand that you’re upset,” Uhura replied. Kirk mentally congratulated her for helping Syvek realize that his feelings were a normal reaction. She continued. “But your father let me borrow this, trusting that I would take good care of it, and I don’t want you to break it.”

Oh, not good, he thought. He knew Syvek hated having his weaknesses, in this case his age, pointed out, and insinuating that he would not be careful with a fragile item was not a strategy that the child accepted. Kirk quickened his pace, but his effort was wasted.

With a growl, Syvek lunged at Uhura with his teeth bared. He grabbed her left arm and sank his teeth into her wrist. A pained cry from Uhura was nearly drowned out when Kirk yelled out Syvek’s name. Releasing Uhura’s arm, Syvek shied away from his daddy and crouched under a nearby table, looking the epitome of contrite fear.

Assured that Syvek would stay under the table for the time being, Kirk gently took Uhura’s arm into his hands, looking at her bruising flesh. Syvek had actually broken the skin in two places, the result of his newest, and sharpest, teeth.

Flashing an apologetic smile at her, Kirk said, “You’d better let McCoy take a look at that, Lieutenant. I can tell you that I’m sure the little demon doesn’t have rabies, but I’d hate for anything to get infected.”

“Aye, sir,” she agreed before turning to leave.

Kirk kneeled in front of the table where Syvek had taken refuge and fixed him with a hard glare. “That was not acceptable, young man.” He pulled the toddler out from under the table by his ankle gently but firmly. Holding onto Syvek’s hand, he strode toward the door, nearly dragging Syvek behind him. “You have assaulted one of my officers.”

“Where are we going?” Syvek’s voice was fearful, borderline tearful.

Mindful of the hush that had fallen on the room and the seemingly averted eyes that were somehow still watching them, Kirk lowered his volume. “We’re going to the brig, young man, where you will have five minutes of time-out.”

Syvek’s small gasp was the last thing the present crew members heard before the doors slid shut.

Spock was heading to one of the labs to check on the progress of an experiment when he overheard his name being spoken in hushed tones. He lingered around the corner, curious about topic of discussion.

“I don’t know, but I bet he won’t be happy. I hope I’m not around when he finds out,” someone was saying.

“It would be interesting, though, to hear what he says to the captain when he finds out how Kirk punished their kid, don’t you think?”

“Maybe…,” the first voice replied doubtfully. “But I imagine it would be more frightening than interesting. That Vulcan is damn scary when he wants to be.”

A murmur of assent followed as the two crew members continued down the hall.

Intrigued, Spock decided to investigate this curious conversation. The experiment he’d been about to check was not expected to be complete until late that evening. Turning around, he retraced his steps until he ended up at sickbay. Perhaps McCoy would have some insight.

“So what happened after I left, Scotty?” Uhura’s tone was just as quiet and conspiratorial as that of the crew members Spock had just heard.

“Now see here,” McCoy interrupted, “I don’t want to have a bunch of gossip about Jim polluting my sickbay.” There was a pause during which Spock was reassured that McCoy was acting, for once, as a professional. “So make sure your story is completely accurate.”

“Aye,” Mr. Scott agreed. “The cap’n pulled Syvek oot from under the table, told ‘im ee’d assaulted an officer. Basically dragged ‘im oot o’ the room sayin’ ee was goin’ to time oot in the brig!”

Uhura gasped, McCoy tsked, and Scott said, “Aye.” Spock seethed. He rounded the corner to join the others. Judging from their expressions, he had not tamed the lividness in his eyes sufficiently.

“What preempted this action on the captain’s part?” he asked evenly.

Scott’s eyes widened. By way of explanation, he gestured to Uhura’s wrist, which had just been cleaned. McCoy was about to continue the healing process with a hypospray that was presumably loaded with a cocktail of coagulants, antibiotics, and local anesthetics. Spock was able to recognize the teeth marks that were now raised on the Lieutenant’s skin.

“I see.” Spock took a deep breath. “When did this take place?”

“Just a few minutes ago, sir,” Uhura answered, “in rec room four.”

Spock nodded. “I regret that my son’s outburst resulted in an injury, Lieutenant Uhura,” he murmured. “If you will excuse me, I must find Jim.” He pivoted on his heel and left without another word.

Spock was a firm believer in the adage that the punishment for a transgression should fit the crime that was committed, and as he made his way down the corridor, he contemplated his philosophy on the current matter. He understood that Kirk was attempting to address Syvek’s unexpected behavior by “nipping it in the bud,” as he had explained his actions in the past. However, putting a two-year-old child in a jail cell was, in Spock’s opinion, an extreme step that had surely affected their child deeply.

Carefully unshielding the parental link, Spock’s consciousness was flooded with a deep sense of fear, and Spock reasoned that he would find his husband and child in or near the brig.

Kirk knew he was in trouble the second he saw Spock round the corner. He turned to look into the holding cell where Syvek was sitting, legs drawn up against his chest and head resting on his knees. Shuddering gasps shook his thin shoulders every few breaths, but no cries were apparent. The force field deactivated just before Spock reached him; the five minutes Kirk had programmed had apparently concluded. Though the hum of the electrostatic generators had ceased, Syvek made no move to rise.

“Jim,” Spock intoned quietly.

“Spock,” he replied cordially, hoping to delay the conversation Spock would want to have. In his mind, parents should present a united front and disagreements should be discussed at a later time when the child was not present. For Spock, though, issues should be addressed immediately so that the involved parties could reason through their logic together. “I see you’ve heard about Syvek’s little… incident.”

“Syvek’s incident?” Spock repeated. “From what I understood, you made quite the scene.”

Kirk bristled at the accusation. “Excuse me?” he questioned incredulously. “Surely you’re not implying that I was out of line!”

“Jim,” Spock started patiently, no doubt prepared to frame a logical argument against Kirk’s actions that overlooked Syvek’s fault in the scene, but he was interrupted when Syvek dashed out of the holding cell and into his legs.

“Sa-mekh,” he whined piteously, tugging on Spock’s tunic to request an embrace. Spock, of course, did not decline, bending slightly to pick up the toddler, who wound his arms tightly around his father’s neck and whimpered.

Eyes narrowing, Kirk took in the scene and fumed. “Spock,” he said shortly, “please do not coddle him. He bit Uhura.”

“Yes, I am aware of his actions. And though I find violence reprehensible,” at this point, to his credit, he at least pulled back enough to bestow a disappointed look on Syvek before turning back to Kirk, “I find myself unhappy with your punishment. The boy is two years old.”

“We can’t allow that kind of behavior, not if we expect him to be civilized. He bit her!”

“True, he did bite her. I saw the wound myself. However, you put him in jail. I believe your action to be just as unacceptable as his.”

“Just as…” Kirk trailed off, disbelieving. At that point, he could feel his blood pressure rising, his temper boiling with rage. He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths just as McCoy had instructed after his last argument with Spock. When he opened them, he turned and walked away without a word.

“Can you believe that… that bastard!? Arguing with me in front of Syvek not ten minutes after the kid bit Uhura!?” Kirk paced the length of McCoy’s quarters, did a 180, and paced the other way.

“Jim, would you sit down? I’m going to strain my neck watching you run around in circles,” McCoy complained from his seat.

“Come on, Bones,” he pressed, taking the offered seat. “You’re a parent. Can you honestly tell me I’m wrong? That it’s okay to argue with your spouse in front of your kid?”

McCoy sighed. “No, I can’t argue with your point, and I do appreciate how difficult it must have been for you to walk away when you did, knowing that Spock has probably gone back to your quarters and encouraged Syvek that you were in the wrong. But now it’s time to let go of your anger and have an adult discussion with the man.” Another sigh. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but… Why don’t you two come in for a counseling session? You can get the bad feelings off your chests in a neutral environment. Have Sulu or someone take the kid to the gym and work off his aggression.”

Kirk laughed. “That’s a good one, Bones. Then maybe we can get Sarek to come, and Spock can talk through his daddy issues with you two.”

“I’m telling you this as your friend, not as your doctor. Both of you have come to me at some point over the past couple of years to discuss your differing views on parenting. It’s no big secret on the ship that you two have some philosophical issues regarding the kid. I’m not saying you have to do it, but it’s worth considering, even one session.”

McCoy’s confession and reasoning gave Kirk pause. “Spock has come to you before? To talk about me?” He let the idea percolate, wondered if Spock would be willing, and realized that it was indeed worth a try. “All right, I’ll talk to him. Syvek should be asleep by now, anyway.”

Their cabin was dim when Kirk entered, which came as somewhat of a surprise. He didn’t think Spock would have gone to bed already, especially considering their argument. Upon entering the sleeping area, he saw why the lights had been lowered.

Spock was dozing on his back, spread out across the whole bed, while Syvek slept at his side. Syvek was curled into a little ball of Vulcan and sucking his thumb, which was a habit they had been trying to break.

Most of the fight had left Kirk after his talk with McCoy, and the rest had been burned off by his brisk walk to his quarters. The sight of his two favorite Vulcans cuddling together provoked an internal feeling of warmth that permeated his whole being. He sauntered to Spock’s side of the bed and gently kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Spock’s eyes shot open, and he seemed to be embarrassed about his unplanned nap.

“Hey, lover,” Kirk muttered softly. “What’s with the kid?”

Spock blinked a few times, frowning for a moment as he considered Kirk’s words. He looked to his left and carefully shook the boy to awareness. “Syvek, Daddy is home,” he whispered.

Syvek-waking-up-from-a-deep-sleep was one of Kirk’s favorite Syveks. Pissed-off-about-bath-time-Syvek and sugar-high-Syvek were also particularly adorable, but when Syvek was attempting to orient himself to a state of consciousness, he was both cute and sweet. It took nearly two full minutes for him to wake up, during which time Kirk had sat on the other side of Spock and smiled. Then he seemed to remember why he was in his parents’ bed and scrambled across Spock to sit in Kirk’s lap.

He hugged Kirk tightly, tighter than a two-year-old human could have, and said, “I’m sowwy, Daddy.”

Kirk’s eyes met Spock’s, and he saw an apology in those brown depths as well. “For what?” he coaxed. No time like the present to reinforce the lesson he’d learned.

Syvek pulled back. “Umm…” His eyes darted around as he considered the question. “For biting Lootennit Ohuwa.”

“And?” Spock prompted.

“For thwowing a tantwum. And for bein’ bad.” His gaze settled on his lap, where his fingers fidgeted nervously.

“Hey,” Kirk said, getting Syvek’s attention, “you are not ‘bad.’ You just made a bad choice. That doesn’t make you a bad kid.”

“’kay…,” he whispered.

“Who else should you apologize to?”

“Lootennit Ohuwa… And Fahver.”

Spock looked up, surprised. “Why are you apologizing to me, son?”

“’cause I dinnit be a good Vulcan. I had lotsa ‘motions.” The shame in the boy’s voice and posture cut deep into Kirk’s soul, and he could feel Spock’s despair as well.

“Syvek, look at me,” Spock commanded. He reached out to cup Syvek’s chubby cheek in the palm of his hand. “I love you. Love is an emotion, and I am not ashamed to feel it or acknowledge it. Show it,” he amended in response to the boy’s confused look. “Emotions are… unsettling at times, and many Vulcans are uncomfortable with showing them. You must not forget that you are part human, and to hide your emotions is to hide part of yourself. Never let the expectations of others affect the person you are.”

“God, Spock, I love you,” Kirk mumbled, leaning in for a kiss.

“Yuck!” the toddler exclaimed, squirming out of Kirk’s hold.

Kirk laughed. “It’s time for bed, Mister. You can apologize to Lieutenant Uhura in the morning.”

After Syvek was tucked into his crib for the night, Spock and Kirk climbed into their own bed together. Kirk was the first to speak.

“It bothers me when you argue with me in front of Syvek. We need to show him that we support each other’s decisions, especially in terms of discipline. He’s too young to understand that there are different views that can be considered acceptable. The world is black and white for him.”

Spock considered Kirk’s words for a moment before replying. “I agree. When Syvek and I returned to our quarters, we discussed his behavior and the consequences he experienced. I explained to him that violence is not a logical or practical method for obtaining an object or attaining a goal. He told me that he bit the Lieutenant because he ‘didn’t have any words’ to describe his feelings at the time. He also claimed that he would not repeat his actions, for he found the punishment quite distasteful.” A muffled snort from Kirk’s side of the bed drew Spock’s attention to his husband. “Jim?”

“Sorry. It’s just that ‘distasteful’ is a funny adjective to use considering that he was biting.”

“Jim,” Spock continued, frowning infinitesimally, “I wish to address your decision to leave our son in the brig.”

“God, Spock, it was five minutes! You make it sound like I sentenced him to life imprisonment!”

“While time is a universal invariant, I feel constrained to point out that many two-year-olds would consider five minutes to be a lifetime.”

Kirk looked away and sighed. “I know. I just needed to get him out of the rec room and into some place where we could both calm down. When I saw him bite her, I was so embarrassed! I felt like a failure as a father, and at least twenty crew members were there to see it.”

“You are no failure, Jim,” Spock assured him, rolling to lie on his side facing Kirk. He reached out a hand and ran his fingers through Kirk’s hair, eliciting a contented hum from his husband.

“Okay,” Kirk yawned, ready to conclude the discussion for the night. “Sounds like we need to teach him some words he can use to describe and communicate how he’s feeling when he’s upset. That way he can talk instead of bite. Sound good?”

“The fault is mine,” Spock replied. “I seem to have ingrained in our son a reluctance to verbalize and express feelings. His shame at becoming emotional was quite a surprise to me this evening. I had previously thought that we were allowing him to embrace his emotional side, but it seems that I have hindered our progress with subconscious cues.”

Kirk scoffed. “How? By limiting his vocabulary? The kid is two. No two-year-old knows how to describe his feelings properly. The fact that he recognized the reason he bit Uhura is pretty amazing. Stop blaming yourself. We do need to talk about some things, but I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.”

“Very well,” whispered Spock, pulling Kirk against his front. “I love you,” he said softly, taking Kirk’s ear lobe between his teeth and worrying it gently.

“Great,” he murmured sleepily, “now I have two Vulcans with biting problems…”

Part 3