Spock was stood alone on the dimly lit Observation deck after 2 hours of failed meditation. It was a mere 45 minutes before the day shift would start, and usually around this time he would already have been in the science labs for almost double that, but for some reason, this morning he had shirked his duties.

Perhaps it was because an illogical, emotional, and very human part of him which should be kept hidden and buried, was not allowing him his concentration. And why was it keeping him from his concentration? The very question and it's answer were illogical. He couldn't concentrate on meditation or science equations because he felt empathy for his captain.

What good would come of it? Nothing. What was the point? There wasn't one. Jim was his superior officer and friend; something which he would probably never be able to admit verbally to his face, and like all sentient creatures, Spock cared for the well being of his friend. One of very few friends he'd ever had. Christopher Pike and number one had been the first, and Jim the second. In the first instance aboard the Enterprise, Spock hadn't interacted with the rest of the crew more than was necessary, and really, neither had Pike. But when Jim took command - everything changed.

He had encouraged Spock to sit in the rec room, he had shown that it was possible to be both loyal, personal friend and captain, and he had slowly shown that it was possible to form a rapport with a human / Vulcan hybrid without even said hybrid even realising it before it was too late to stop it. The loyalty Spock gave to captain Pike was slightly different to the loyalty he showed to Jim.

With the latter came an understanding, a bond, that with the former had never quite been formed. With Jim's trust and friendship came the complete and total acceptance of all of the senior crew, more than he'd ever had, or ever seen before. The respect he had and held for the rest of the bridge crew and his science departments were reciprocated and were not something he had even considered being involved in...before the arrival of the 'shooting star' of the academy took command.

And now, together, they had reached a new low. Jim's love for Edith Keeler had been doomed from the start, but to have to watch the woman die before his eyes, and to have to let it happen...to be powerless to change fate. It was a cruel adventure. One of the worst they'd ever had. Spock was used to the Vulcan philosophy 'what is, is,' having been raised on the ideals of Surak, but surely this was unfair to Jim. Hadn't the man got enough responsibility without adding more pain, more sorrow, more baggage to his life?

Spock had also be powerless that night; the night she died. He had been powerless to help his captain. He had been powerless to save the woman his friend loved, and therefore he had failed in his duty. If he could have done something, anything to change things, then he would. But he could not risk the safety of the entire world for one woman...even if it was the woman his captain loved so dearly...could he? No, he could not. Jim wouldn't thank him for plunging the world into darkness.

...Emotions were troublesome things indeed; they made the simplest of things overly complicated and difficult. For instance: one life to save millions, even billions was a logical, sensible trade...to save the majority was to succeed...but why did it feel so terrible?

Spock let out a quiet, un-Vulcan-like sigh and stated out at the stars as they passed by thr ship. It was now only half an hour to day shift, and by now the ship was most likely alive and awake with the main crew preparing for duty...which he would now be doing. So, with one last look at the stars, Spock turned and headed for the doors , when he heard quiet footsteps coming up to the deck.

A second later he was no longer alone, as he was joined by the captain of the Enterprise himself.

Jim walked silently across to the windows and stood beside Spock without saying anything. Usually the captain would greet his friend cheerfully but there was no sign of the characteristic joviality on the man's pale and tired face.

"Good morning, captain," Spock greeted.

"'Morning', is it?" Jim asked with a yawn.

"It is,"

"Oh," he nodded, "Can't really tell in space...y'know..."

Spock only glanced at his friend surreptitiously, concerned that the man clearly wasn't aware that the day shift in the bridge would be starting soon.

"Perhaps you should rest, I will take charge of the day shift..."

"No...no...no more resting..." Jim replied quietly.

"With all due respect, sir, it is clear that you haven't yet had enough rest."

"Now you sound likes Bones," he gave a halfhearted smile.

"In this instance I must admit that I agree with him," Spock said.

"Never thought I'd hear that from you, Spock."

"Nevertheless, I..."

"No, Spock, I don't want a Vulcan nursemaid, I just wanna do my job..."

Rather than attempt to talk sense into the man Spock rested his hand on Jim's arm and sent his quiet thoughts through to his friends overly tired and stressed mind. It was both immoral and difficult to affect another's mind without direct contact to the face, but since he was so familiar with Jim's mind it was possible.

"You need to rest, listen to reason," he said softly, building his mental shields against the onslaught of raw emotions he felt even through the cloth of the man's sleeve.

"...No...I..."

"Jim, listen to me, you cannot captain a starship like this. You are tired, and you are in mourning," Spock said.

"...I'm not..." he insisted but Spock raised an eyebrow and Jim sighed, "...Yeah...yeah...I know...I know..."

Without him realising it, Spock started to lead a reluctant Jim through the corridors, taking a lengthy route in an aim to avoid the curious eyes of the crew. With Spock's unprecedented knowledge of the ship they quickly came to the captain's quarters.

He suspected that Jim had been stalking the ship for thr past few nights rather than resting as a human should, and McCoy's concern had been expressed in private to the Vulcan in sickbay several times. Spock had been hesitant in attempting to console his grieving friend, but it seemed that tonight, fate had taken it upon herself to make him do so. For how could he turn away his captain when he was grieving so painfully in front of his very eyes?

"Lights 40%," Spock commanded and lead his friend through the open plan rooms towards the exhausted man's much needed bed.

Jim sat down without protest and slowly took in the familiar surrounding of his quarters. Perhaps the presence of his rooms and his belongings would help him to rest.

"You don't have to help me...I know you don't do this kind of thing...that's okay...it's not a bad thing..."

"As you say," Spock nodded and quickly ran his eyes over the mess on the man's desk. He scanned a data PADD and quickly dismissed it as unimportant in comparison to the well being of the captain himself. Then he quickly tided away a mess of record cards and saw that his friend was showing no signs of even attempting to sleep; he was sat hunched on his bed, with his back slouched and his head in his hands.

"I was...I was trying to get those reports finished..."

"I will see to it," Spock told him confidently.

"I can..."

"I will finish the reports after my first shift," Spock reiterated, in a tone which, for an exhausted man, left no room for compromise.

"...Thanks..." Jim said and let out a ragged breath, "You'd think it'd be easy..."

"Easy, captain?"

"Y'know...Edith...if I'd saved her...if I'd...but I couldn't..."

"You loved her," Spock stated.

"Yeah...I shouldn't have..."

"But you did, and from what I've observed; love is seldom easy."

"She was amazing through, wasn't she?" the captain asked.

"Miss Keeler was indeed...an extraordinary woman," Spock nodded.

"Good...m'glad you agree..." was the mumbled, tired reply of the usually exuberant captain. Spock walked silently across to his friend and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to ease his head down onto the pillow.

"And I appologise for not being of more use to you both," he added as he then sought and found a thick throw, which he draped over his friend.

"What?" Jim asked with a yawn.

"Nothing of importance, now I insist you rest. Should there be any danger to the ship I will see to it that you are woken, otherwise, you should sleep."

"...Sleep...wish I...wish I could..."

"You can," Spock said and gently brushed his fingertips against his friend's face while his eyes were closed. Once again he could feel the captain's pain, his sorrow and anguish, and a sense of hopelessness that overshadowed everything else, but this time it was all so much more potent. For a second Spock felt that it was he who had watched the woman he loved die, and be forced to allow it to happen. He felt that it was he who had killed the woman he had loved.

But it wasn't. He had to remember that. He was a Vulcan. He was only touching Jim's mind, he wouldn't invade it. He was only there to help. It went against his Vulcan disciplines to use his abilities to affect a mind like this, no matter the reasons, but his human half told him that it was the right thing to do.

"...Yeah...night..." Jim said, and with that he was deeply asleep and would not wake for at least 9 hours - 9 hours of tranquil dreams and no responsibilities.

"Lights," Spock said quietly and left the room. When the door slid shut behind him Spock immediately saw Doctor McCoy standing across from him, leaning against the wall.

"Is he sleepin'?" he asked instantly.

"He is," Spock replied and began making his way to the bridge with McCoy walking by his side.

"How'd you do it? I tried everything, he wouldn't even take meds,"

"I suggested to his subconscious that it was in need of rest."

"You 'voodoo-ed' him?"

"I did no such thing," Spock replied dryly.

"Well, whatever you wanna call it, I wish you'd done it sooner; he's not doin' good."

"Did you expect otherwise?"

"No, guess not," McCoy shrugged nervously.

"I did not wish to intrude on his grief; it is considered highly personal, and also something which you are more suited to help him with, as a human."

"You're half human, too, you know what grief is as well, you know how it feels, don't you?"

"I do," Spock nodded minutely.

"Well, there ya go. No matter how 'personal' Vulcans say it is, you know Jim better than anyone and did you really think all he'd wanna do is to sit around by himself wallowing in grief?"

"..." Spock glanced at the plain walls instead and said nothing. They were nearing the turbo-lift.

"Well...at least you came through for him in the end," McCoy sighed as they stepped into the lift.

"Bridge," Spock commanded automatically. "I am relived that I meet with your approval, doctor."

"Knock it off, smart-ass," McCoy growled, "I know you care about him, and a man needs his friends when somethin' like this happens."

"A fact I am well aware of."

"Good," the doctor nodded happily.

"And by which, that fact also means that you too are, by no means, exempt," Spock added and then walked to sit in the captain's chair. He looked around and saw the bridge crew already assembled and said nothing as he register their slight confusion at the absence of the captain in the captain's chair.

"On course, sir," Sulu reported, quickly breaking the silence. "Maintaining warp 1 to Tarsus 3 for star mapping."

"Acknowledged," Spock nodded simply.

"And just what did ya mean by that, Spock?" McCoy asked as he took up residence on the first officer's right hand side.

"I mean that, as the captain's personal friend you are well suited share in his grief," the Vulcan answered.

"Gosh darn it, I know that...can't you see...it's my fault he fell for her in the first place...if I hadn't..."

"No one can take blame for this, doctor, not you, not I, and not the captain. It is what is is, and we must continue on. The captain is strong enough to deal with loss, he has done so before and he will do so again, however..."

"You know grief isn't that simple; it isn't logical."

"I am aware of that as well, I too...I can empathise as well," Spock said to the doctor who was metaphorically slapped into silence with words.

"Yeah...me too," he muttered after a minute. "You know I'm...I only take this out on you 'cos no one else knows what really happened, and I know..."

"I understand, doctor," the Vulcan interrupted and the doctor nodded.

"Well...good...well...errr...sickbay...I gotta..." he pointed weakly to the turbo-lift and set off for it at once.

He watched as the doctor left the bridge, and Chekov took up the place in science station when Spock showed no signs of moving, then another ensign took up the place at the helm, before Spock had even had to order either action. Such was the sign of a well organised crew.

The rest of the day shift was uneventful and, some would venture to say; dull. For the Enterprise was constantly in a state of distress or trouble it was strange to recall that there were days, when they were star mapping for instance, on which nothing life threatening happened in any way whatsoever.

Photograph, after photograph, the star system around the uninhabitable planet known as Tarsus 3 was mapped efficiently and systematically, the crew sinking further in boredom each time. But it was important to remember, that even though days like this were slow, to say the least, it was also another day in which they had no casualties or damage to the ship, and these were rare occasions to be treasured, so no one verbally complained at all...well...not very loudly, or very frequently.

When the day shift drew to a close Spock would usually stay on for the second shift as well, since he needed less rest than the average human, but he had twice his usual amounts of reports to finish, and little time in which to complete them. So it was to a slightly surprised Mr. Scott to whom he gave command shortly after, and then quickly retreated to his quarters.

Struck at once by the higher temperature he felt more at ease and settled immediately into his robes and began to meditate. He found that he had a little more success than previously, but not by much, so instead he sat at his desk and made a start on both his reports, and the captain's.

After several hours, Spock sensed, rather than saw the captain walking through the door to his rooms.

"I've got a bone to pick with you, science officer," Jim told him as the man stormed in with confidence.

"Captain, good afternoon," Spock replied without looking up from his PADD.

"No funny business, what'd you do to me?" he asked and stood the opposite side of Spock's desk with his arms crossed.

"Captain?"

"You Vulan-mind-melded me to sleep, didn't you?"

"Not quite, I merely suggested to your mind that your need for sleep was great, a fact which you were already well aware of, but which you could no longer refute," Spock replied and saw the halfhearted anger swiftly disparate from Jim's face.

"Well...thanks...I guess," the captain sighed and sat down, "These the reports?" he asked after a minute of silence as he looked at the two separate PADDs on the desk.

"Affirmative, I have already completed and logged yours."

"But that makes yours late...doesn't it?"

"Correct, however that is due to my own fault," Spock answered quickly.

"Because I was sleeping?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Because I chose to log extra reports when it is plainly evident to me that my levels of concentration are somewhat compromised."

"Huh? You ever once thought about not riddling things up like that? I have only just got up, y'know, give a guy a break," Jim smiled, but Spock said nothing. "Alright, alright, I got this, lemme think...err...concentration...err...Why, Mr. Spock, you were worried about me, weren't you?"

"I was...concerned about the efficiency of the ship..."

"Yeah, I know, I get it," he smiled genuinely. "So...anything interesting happen today?"

"Negative, at least not in the way you would define the word," Spock replied.

"Oh...well, surely we're due for a few slow days, even on the Enterprise," Jim shrugged.

"Evidently."

"Look, Spock, I err...I didn't know...whether I was hearing things or not...but I seem to recall you saying you...err...weren't much help to me..."

"I did, however it is of no importance, now, if you will excuse me. I must finish these reports," Spock replied quickly.

"The damn reports can wait, you're my friend, and I know if there was another way then we would've found it. Now I don't want to hear anymore about it, understand?"

"Understood, captain," Spock inclined his head simply.

"Now, if I remember our schedule correctly, we were star mapping today, right?" the captain asked in a semblance of his usual character.

"Correct," the Vulcan replied, inwardly sceptical of his friend's memory. He suspected that the doctor had informed Jim of their schedule today; having been all too aware of the chaos within the captain's mind recently...but of course Spock said nothing, and he sensed that Jim was grateful for that.

"So, tell me what you found."

"Well..." Spock began, and quickly the air of sadness seemed to disapte.