A/N: This fic is unbeta'ed. It's my way of thanking my beta Paula (vampirealchemist13) for all her hard work over the past few months on "Not Consolation But Light." Though she tends to be quite modest, I know I couldn't (or wouldn't) have written that story without her, and I insisted she give me a prompt.
Paula said she would like to read an extended version of Spock and Nyota's conversation in the elevator after his mother dies in the movie. It's such a beautiful scene that I didn't know how to approach it, but I hope this little AU is a worthy gift.
"What do you need? Tell me."
When Spock had first confessed his feelings for Nyota, she had noticed a look on his face that was at the time unfamiliar. Vulnerability.
Now, it mingled with numbness and hung slackly on his features, an ill-fitting expression. Nyota felt helpless.
She cupped his face in her hands. "Tell me."
At this he reached to restart the turbolift. Nyota gently caught his hand.
"I need everyone..." His voice hitched. "...to continue performing admirably."
She frowned. "And how do you intend to go on?"
"I am Vulcan," he said with resigned determination.
"Let me help."
He drew in a breath through flared nostrils. "This is my burden, Nyota."
"I can share it," she said, placing his fingers on her meld points.
Guilt flitted over his face. "You have your own duties to perform."
"I'm off for half a shift in an hour. You don't get breaks right now." At his hesitation, she tried explaining it differently. "It harms me to see you in pain and be unable to help," she told him.
This he understood.
"My mind to your mind…" he murmured.
My thoughts to your thoughts.
Nyota was in the middle of a sandstorm, lightning cracking the red air. A small brown-haired woman – Spock's mother Amanda – stood apart, a habit she had adopted to avoid bringing him embarrassment in Vulcan society.
Nyota's world crumbled in slow motion around the bits of light circling her. Amanda's eyes widening in mute shock and fear, darkening with adrenaline. Her arm lifting, fingers curling ineffectually into the air.
Nyota's muscles were weak, slow. Inadequate.
Amanda dropped as if an airlock had opened beneath her, pulling her into the abyss.
If I had kept her closer! Spock all but begged. I should never have released her hand.
Nyota shared in his grief.
Not even a computer could have predicted this using the information you had, she said.
A sudden blast of dark, red-black rage seared her bones. Her fingers ached to crush the throat of the one who had taken Amanda from them. She breathed through the anger and transmitted acceptance and love.
Spock broke the meld. Nyota's fingers shook as she pressed the turbolift start button, but his expression had cleared somewhat.
"Thank you," he said, swallowing with obvious relief. She stepped close to him and felt his hand cup her hair.
"I'm okay," Nyota assured him, unsure herself if she was lying.
The casualty lists were only beginning to come in, but it was already clear that most of her class was gone. Her best friend and roommate, Gaila, assigned to the Farragut. Was she alive? Or was she floating frozen in space, an expression of shock on her beautiful features? Nyota squeezed her eyes shut against the image.
'Okay' was relative. Everything was relative now.
The lift doors opened.