David walked in the front door and dropped his messenger bag on the stairs. He could hear Linkin Park playing rather loudly in the living room and he went back cautiously. He thought perhaps his stepfather, Captain Spock, was listening to his music for some reason or another. But he wouldn't have had it this loud. Would he? Finally, when he was almost to the room a voice began singing along, and David realized it wasn't his stepfather but his father in the back living area.

David stuck his head in to the dim room. "Dad?" he called.

"For what I've done, I start again, and whatever pain may come, today this ends. I'm forgiving what I've done," Captain James T. Kirk was lying on the floor, beer in hand, singing up at the ceiling. David inched around the sofa.

"Dad? Are you okay?" David looked at the empty bottles lined up with a small amount of fright. Jim hadn't gotten drunk since he married Spock twelve years ago, and had been rather proud of that fact. Something horrible must have been going on for him to resort to this behavior.

David picked up two bottles and gestured to the kitchen. "I'll just, uh, put these in recycling," he stammered. He walked back and forth at his task until there was just the bottle Jim was clutching left. "Dad, do you need to talk to someone? Is something wrong?"

"David?" Jim seemed to just register his son's presence. "Go to your room, buddy. You can get on the comm or the computer or whatever, just stay up there, okay?"

"Yes, sir," David answered quietly. He returned to the stairs and carried his schoolwork up to his room, but when he shut the door he went to the comm and dialed a number he never thought he'd have to call.

"Enter code at command."

David entered his comm code with trembling hands. When it signaled success, he sat back and waited. His tension continued to build until the comm station rang six minutes later. He answered anxiously.

"David? Are you well?" Spock looked at the screen.

"Father, something's wrong with Dad. He's … he's … well, he's kinda … drunk."

Spock blinked at the screen. "I … do not know how to respond. I know you would not fabricate a tale of this magnitude; I will alert my TA to a family emergency and return home at once. I want you to stay in your room. Thank you for calling, David." Spock hung up without another word.

David was a very bright boy scholastically, but sometimes simple commands slipped his grasp. His father had told him to stay in his room; his stepfather had told him to stay in his room. However, his next action was to return to the living room to check on his intoxicated parent.

Jim was still lying on the floor, but now he was looking under the sofa for something. David retrieved the flashlight and climbed down beside him.

"Want some help?" David asked gently.

Jim's eyes focused for a second and his face darkened. "Did you not hear me, boy? Get in your room! Don't come out! Go on, get outta here! Go!" He continued yelling as David scrambled back to his feet, dropping the flashlight and dashing back up the stairs. David sat on his bed and tried to calm his heart down. He was becoming more and more afraid.

Spock took a cab home; he had expected Jim to pick him up in another hour but apparently that wasn't happening. What could be happening to Jim? Why on Earth would he do this, knowing his son could find him in this condition? The whole reason they arranged their schedules the way they did was so one of them would be home for David before he left the house and when he returned from school. This semester was Spock's turn for morning duty and Jim was to be home in the evenings. For the first time, Spock found himself actually hoping his stepson had exaggerated, or even outright lied.

The driver let Spock off at the path to the door and he paid quickly and walked up to the house. His first thought was to investigate the aircar for damage. There was none; apparently whatever happened had started at home. Spock breathed a small sigh of relief.

He walked in the house and was greeted with the sound of Simon and Garfunkel blasting from the downstairs computer. He stalked in the living room and yanked open the blinds, flooding the room with sunlight. The room's occupant cursed and covered his eyes.

"What the fuck, man?"

Spock reached down and hoisted Jim up to his feet. "Would you care to repeat that statement to my face?" he growled. Jim clammed up and Spock dropped him on the sofa. "Is there a sufficient reason why my stepson returned home to find his parent intoxicated to the point of frightening him?" He waited for a beat, and then knelt down in front of Jim and switched tactics.

"Please speak with me, James. What has occurred to produce this behavior in you? I am understandably alarmed."

Jim had enough trouble dealing with Spock's good cop/bad cop routine sober. With eight beers in him, it was a lost cause. "I love you?" he answered hopefully.

Spock raised Jim's face toward the light and checked his pupils. They had almost swallowed the blue that normally surrounded them. Spock frowned. "How much have you consumed?"

Jim pushed him away suddenly and burped. Then he shook his head. "Nope, just a burp. Um, I don't know. I had them all lined up but somebody took them."

Spock went in the kitchen and counted the empty bottles, which is when he found the other four bottles and poured them out. Then he got a large glass of water and brought it back to his mate.

"I need you to drink this, Jim."

Jim eyed the glass. "I'm really not that thirsty anymore."

"Please, t'hy'la? For me? It is merely water. It will prevent the worst of the dehydration you will suffer later. I have no access to hyposprays for this condition, not anymore."

"Too bad," Jim sighed. He took the glass and sipped at it. "You seemed miffed about something."

Spock felt his jaw twitch where he was clinching his teeth and he methodically relaxed the muscles. "James, a fourteen year old boy emergency-paged me forty eight minutes ago because the one parent who was responsible for him was lying incapacitated on the living room floor. I had to inform my TA that I had a family emergency and left my class mid-lecture to return home to find you in this condition. Are you so impaired that you cannot see where I would be angered?"

Jim made a strange face and Spock felt the nausea through the bond only in time to step away from his mate before Jim was violently ill. The full glass of water hit the floor and soaked in the carpet. Spock sighed and stepped over the mess to the linen closet, where he got a small towel and brought it back to his husband.

"Are you able to ascend the stairs to the bathroom, or shall I carry you?" Spock asked in resignation.

Jim held his head. "Uh, how many stairs again?"

Spock shook his head and scooped Jim up in a fireman's carry, taking him from the living room to the stairs and up to their bedroom. He deposited Jim on the bed and began undressing him.

"Hey hey, frisky are we?" Jim purred.

Spock stopped and stared at his partner. "James, please believe me, right now you are the farthest from enticing you can possibly be. You are intoxicated and covered in vomit. I am attempting to prepare you for the shower."

"Oh." Jim tried to help and after several failed attempts to get his shirt off he lay back and exhaled. "Why are you mad at me again?" he finally uttered.

Spock ignored him and when Jim was naked he guided him in the bathroom and into the shower stall. He turned on the water and shut the door. Jim stood there, bewildered.

"Clean yourself, James."

Jim looked down at his body as if it were a new creation. "I'm clean!" he protested.

Spock undressed hastily and climbed in the shower with Jim. He raised the temperature and got the soap. Trying to push down the disappointment he felt, he helped a 38-year old man to wash himself. When they were done, Spock grabbed their towels and roughly dried them both off.

Jim leaned against the wall. "I'm sleepy," he began.

"I will place you to bed, Jim. Here," Spock led him to the left side of the bed and pulled down the covers, and then covered him up again. "I will be here, should you need me. Sleep now." He didn't have to say it twice – Jim was out.