A/N: Hi, everyone. This is my first story in the world of Star Trek. I'm so excited to have finally written this. Please enjoy!
"I think I hurt Spock's feelings."
Jim Kirk let out a throaty snort. "Bones, listen to yourself. You've had too much of that Tennessee whiskey."
The two friends sat in the Captain's quarters. It was the middle of the night and Dr. McCoy's bottle was nearly half empty. Or as Jim might put it, half full.
"Say whatever you want, Jim, I know it sounds crazy, especially coming from me." It had been three days since their encounter with the 20th Century Roman civilization on Planet 892-IV. McCoy had been meeting with Kirk every day since their return. Although he would never admit it, the experience had been quite traumatic for Bones, who refused to see one of the ship's psychologists. He preferred his friend and longtime confidant, James T. Kirk, and his other longtime companion, a bottle of bourbon.
Captain Kirk stifled his laughter and mustered his best serious guise. "I'm listening."
Spock slid into a sitting position, hoping to find a few quiet moments of mediation. He moved his hands to steeple his fingers, but his right arm was stuck. He glanced over to find his hand handcuffed to a jail cell. There was an inscription on the handcuff that read ozhika - logic. He yanked at the chain, but it didn't budge. Turning around in desperation, he saw his mother's face. She looked younger than he remembered from her last visit aboard the Enterprise: blue eyes dazzling, grey hair now honey brown and flowing. Her lips were pressed lightly together and her gaze averted him, as if ashamed. Next to her appeared Leila Kalomi. He gasped but didn't hear anything come out. He hadn't seen or thought of her in quite some time, but she was still as beautiful as he had remembered. He wanted to smile, but stopped himself when a lone tear trickled down her puffy red cheek. Finally, a small figure appeared, accompanied by echoing, torturous screams that seemed to emanate form a long, dark tunnel.
"Spock! Help!" Although barely audible, he instantly knew the screams belonged to the voice of Captain James T. Kirk. With one vehement thrust, Spock attempted to break free of the handcuff's grasp. Snap! Someone clapped another cuff over his wrist to strengthen the first one. Spock suspected it was the coarse touch of Sarek of Vulcan. He looked up into his assailant's face. It was Dr. McCoy.
"Well, for one thing, he's not here. That oughtta tell you something," McCoy began emphatically.
"And since when has the Good First Officer ever socialized with us outside of a mission?"
"Alright, I get your point, Jim. He never has, but that's because... I never invited him."
Kirk gulped down the contents of his mouth, almost choking. He couldn't be hearing correctly. Was he stuck in some kind of alternate universe?
"You...you what?"
"That's right. A few hours ago. I invited him to this meeting. Not expecting our green blooded friend to partake in the booze, of course, but he was as much a part of the events down there as either of us, so I figured he should have the right to come, too."
Jim nodded, allowing him room to continue. He was quite enjoying playing the role of therapist, getting a chance to help a friend out like this. Not to mention, taking about Bones took the focus off of Kirk's experience on Planet 892-IV.
"And he said his reports more than detailed all the pertinent information about our fascinating encounter with the Romans and the Son Worshippers."
Sounds like Spock, thought Kirk, turning up the corners of his mouth into the makings of a smirk. "And this surprises you?"
Bones abruptly stood up from the table, slapping his hands on the surface. He walked over to the opposite corner of the room, though he couldn't go far in Jim's cramped quarters. "It just proves he's mad at me! He hasn't sarcastically responded to my jokes for the past few days either. The truth is, Spock saved my life down there."
Kirk lifted his hands up to try to slow Bones down. Now this was getting good. Sure, Kirk had watched the fight in the arena from a position of royalty. He had the best seat in the house in which to see Bones almost get killed. But, for the doctor to admit it, that was making progress. This was uncharted territory. For the past week, the two men had primarily discussed Captain Merik's desertion, Flavius, and the fate of the Son Worshippers. Nothing like this.
"Bones, why don't you tell me the story from the beginning?" Kirk said as gently as his voice would allow. He couldn't believe the sudden vulnerability in his Chief Medical Officer, but he didn't want to discourage it.
Still standing, McCoy began to pace around the room. Here goes nothing. Jim really should know this, no matter how much he might tease me about it afterwards. He'll never hear it from Spock, who wouldn't dare include these details in his report.
"In the cell, I tried to thank him for saving my life. A simple gesture, which, you know, was hard for me to say. But I said it. And he unloaded on me! He went on about how losing the ship's doctor would cost the Enterprise efficiency, and more logical mumbo-jumbo."
Kirk smiled at the thought of McCoy and Spock alone in the cell. He wanted to support his comrade right now, but hearing about their banter amused him to no end.
"Wipe that smirk off your face, I'm trying to tell you something! I insulted Spock."
In one quick motion, Spock jolted upright at a pace that could snap a human's back cleanly in two. He pressed his palms together, and to his momentary shock, they touched one another, right wrist no longer chained. Sweat gathered in the lines of his hands and he knew his cheeks were turning a faded green. Unusual, he thought. In addition to controlling their feelings, Vulcans also excelled at keeping the bodily functions associated with emotion in check. Except during pon farr, but that wasn't due for nearly another seven years.
Spock began to center himself by retreating into his mind, a place he did not want to go. Usually he found comfort in deep thought, which bordered on meditation, but not today. Not with irrational dreams like these. Spock knew the cause of these dreams; he had had similar sleeping mirages for three straight nights. He knew they would cease in time, but he could not unsee the faces, expressions, and screams of pain. If logic could cause so much suffering to so many, was it logical at all? These doubts plagued him long into the night, as the Doctor's words repeated over and over in his brain: "You know why you're not afraid to die, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Each day you stay alive is one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out." I might not let it "peek out," but certain circumstances might cause my emotions to surface, thought Spock. It had already happened before: the disease from Psi 2000, the spores on Ceti Alpha III, nearly killing Jim during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee, his mother's harsh words as his father lay ill. He had not always enjoyed these moments of emotional liberation, but they had always shown the truth, which was of utmost importance to him. His masked face had temporarily lost its facade.
The Doctor had been surprisingly perceptive, but he had gotten one thing incorrect. His human half was not the sole bearer of his emotions, but rather his Vulcan half harbored perhaps even stronger emotions. He never showed these, for they were what drove the ancient Vulcans down the path of war and destruction.
Suddenly he thought of Septimus, Flavius, and the Children of the Son. They were not afraid to die; instead, they almost welcomed death, if it was for their cause. They also lived some of the most impassioned lives he had ever observed. Highly emotional, but Septimus was also completely pacifist. Was it possible for such a contradiction to exist? And exist inside of a Vulcan? These people truly deserved further study and contemplation, he noted.
"You wouldn't know what to do with a genuine warm, decent feeling," whispered that Georgia intonation hauntingly in his ear. Was concern logical? Spock knew it was not logical to worry; the very act could never change the outcome of any circumstance. A five-year-old Vulcan child understood this principle. But three days ago, Spock had been concerned for the well being of Captain James T. Kirk. Not because Starfleet would lose a fine leader if he died, or for any logical reason. But because Captain Kirk was his friend. Yes, he knew what to do with a genuine feeling: keep it hidden. That is, until Doctor McCoy discovered it. "I know, I'm worried about Jim, too."
Although Spock knew that Dr. McCoy meant no harm by his words, he couldn't help thinking that walls had been torn down between them. Was Spock's fortress of defense weakening? Or was the doctor strong enough to tear it down? The doctor had been emotionally compromised when he spoke those biting words. But perhaps it was during this state that humans spoke the truth.
Such a vast quarry of unanswerable questions usually made Spock as close to happy as he could perceive. But now, the prospect of figuring them out now seemed overwhelming. Spock needed some air, needed to smell something other than the Vulcan candles that reminded him of home.
"What else is new? Most of the time it seems like that action alone is half your job description."
Bones smashed his forehead in his palm. He was beginning to regret not having gone to one of the ship's counselors in the first place.
"I told him dying was not a worry for him because every breathing moment was a chance to slip up and show his feelings. That he was not capable of dealing with a genuinely kind feeling towards a person."
Kirk thought for a moment. Then he had a revelation. "Bones, do you know what this means? You think Spock is mad at you because you gave him another one of your 'emotionless Vulcan' jokes, right? If that is the case, Spock is feeling anger!" Kirk gave his friend a toothy grin. "I never thought I'd see the day when you got something out of him, Bones. Good work. But first, we must confirm your hunch."
Bones sighed agitatedly. "Jim, this is no time to joke. I never thought I'd see the day when a Vulcan got angry. And I can't say I'm happy to be on the other side of that anger."
Spock always believed that eavesdropping was a logical way to gain knowledge from a conversation without having to enter into it. But, he saw no reason to allow this conversation to progress any further. He must intervene. He rang the buzzer of the Captain's quarters.
"What the devil -" muttered a familiar Southern drawl.
"Come in!" He heard Captain Kirk raise his voice over Dr. McCoy.
Spock entered, walking with hands clasped firmly behind his back. Bones stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as if a hostile Klingon was in their presence. Kirk smiled knowingly.
"Spock, what a welcome surprise. What can we do for you? Would you care to join us?" The Captain gestured towards an empty chair.
"Captain, Doctor, if I am not interrupting, I wish to offer a few words regarding our last mission. I assure you, they will be brief."
"Go ahead, Spock," Kirk offered.
"Yeah, just jump in, Spock. We weren't in the middle of anything important." McCoy couldn't resist jesting since Spock seemed to be acting like his old self again. Kirk shot him a warning glance. But secretly Bones harbored apprehension. He worried that the Vulcan would not completely let him off the hook.
"Very well. Doctor, your comments during our detainment proved to be a useful learning and meditational tool. Jim, once again I am quite satisfied that you escaped that hostile world unscathed. The deaths of Flavius and Captain Merik were regrettable. Overall, our visit to Planet 892-IV taught me a variety of lessons, and I am in your gratitude for allowing me to accompany you there."
Kirk and McCoy blinked up at Spock, who had chosen to stand. His words packed quite a punch for such a brief statement, which was actually not brief at all for Mr. Spock. McCoy let out a breath. His hunch had been wrong. Spock had not been angry with him, after all. If he had been, it was now forgotten. He thought it best not to bring up this matter again.
Kirk was one step ahead in responding to Spock's emotion-tinged statements. "Mr. Spock, if I may ask, what are these enlightened lessons you learned?"
The Vulcan blinked twice, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Captain, that is a matter that deserves further study."
As Spock turned on his heel and exited, the hall echoed with the Captain and CMO's laughter.
"Well, that was something," Kirk said to Bones when they were sure Spock was long gone and out of pointed- earshot.
"Yeah, something mighty strange. If I didn't know better I'd say that was an emotional apology. You know, for acting extra stony for the past couple of days."
Kirk piped up, "Whatever it was, it should make you feel better, right? We've always know Spock had feelings, Bones, but deliberately controls them."
"Why, thank you, Captain Obvious! Why do you think I felt so guilty about what I did?!"
Taken aback, Kirk's eyes shot open at the intensity of Bones' words.
"Jim, there's no doubt you deserve the reputation as the finest starship captain in the Fleet, but please, do everyone a favor and never go into therapy."
