Author's note: I do not own any rights to the Star Trek Original Series, nor to any of the more recent movies, therefore character credit and credit for other such concepts should be passed down to Gene Roddenberry along with all other writers involved in the creative processing of Star Trek.
Vulcan had been destroyed, or in other words, ceased to exist, and left in the wake of the rubble and ashes of a home world once within the reach of every Vulcan's fingertips, stood one, although not the only one, but one nonetheless, reaping the consequences of such an action.
S'chn T'gai Spock was the name of that individual, and while only half Vulcan, the connection hammered into his brain by the fond memories created while on that dry, and seemingly unforgiving, planet's surface, were enough to drive the emotions found within the deepest reach of his soul, out onto the blank canvas known as his face, breaching the self-made image of calm that had been encompassing his person prior.
As a testament to this truth, lay James Tiberius Kirk, currently sprawled across one of the numerous stations located on the Enterprise's deck, his breath coming out in short spurts as the pale hand currently enclosed around his windpipe, increased its given pressure.
"Spock, do not do this." Voiced Sarek, his calm, neutral tones seeming to penetrate the agitated buzz which surrounded the half-Vulcan, all the while breaking him free of the rage induced trance that Kirk's mockery had caused.
Horrified, as the reality of the situation hit home, the Vulcan's eyes widened a fraction of an inch as he relinquished hold of said grasp, stumbling away in fear of those frosted blue eyes as they followed his lithe figure, vaguely interested as the owner tried to inhale every ounce of oxygen possible.
In backing impossibly further towards the center of the room which he, and a minority of his crew occupied, the Vulcan began to pick up on the other heartbeats present, as a wave of, what could only be described as humiliation, hit him full force. Eyes searching, almost pleading the hosts' memories' to forget his emotional outburst, the Vulcan, with a final ounce of logic left, handed over his command in retribution of Kirk's near death experience, before headed towards the sick bay for both a psychological and physical evaluation.
That is how Spock had remembered the events leading up to the climax of the Enterprise's mission, and while relieved that none who had experienced said events disclosed any of the words spoken, logically speaking, he knew it only to be a matter of time before the rest of the ship caught wind of what had happened and began theorizing the aftermath of such a day. Luckily for Spock, no such aftermath had taken place, therefore insuring him a further set of arms at the ready to catch his emotionless corpse should a time of need arise. Not that the Vulcan would ever need such a comfort, for his emotional instability had only lasted a brief amount of time, however, the notion of such a thing enabled the Vulcan to sustain a firmer grasp of his self-control, and while meditating, it would be illogical to do otherwise.
Breathing deeply through widened nostrils, Spock began assessing other such emotional triggers, and while digging through the contents which his brain had provided, found such a trigger to be buried within the memories obtained while in the company of his mother.
While known to be a part of a species capable of impressive feats of emotional suppression, the half-Vulcan was incapable of controlling the reflexive shudder which accompanied the thought of having to suppress such enormous amounts of grief and love which he still presently felt for his mother. However, in knowing that if he did not, the guilt which had followed her death would forever linger in the wake of his shadow, exhaled.
Within the action of releasing the residue carbon dioxide present post gas exchange, Spock began to visualize a set of arms gradually closing the gap which the loss of his mother had left within his katra. In applying very powerful amounts of mental strength along opposite sides of said 'gap' first, the Vulcan soon relented as they came to a neat close, before pushing the now closed gap into the closet which Spock had learned to label as the 'forget' region of his mind.
In thanking the philosophies of Surak, Spock began the process of exiting his deep meditative state, and soon, opened his eyes to the bland grey of his quarter's walls. Drinking in the sight of such a normalcy, Spock soon found his coffee brown eyes gravitating towards the neatly made bed which he had slept in countless nights prior, and to his surprise saw Nyota sitting patiently on his bedspread and staring at him intensely.
"Nyota." Spock acknowledged, titling his head.
"Spock." Uhura replied, her face relaxing slightly as she recognized this all too familiar greeting.
"I was unaware that you had entered my chambers. I apologize for not acknowledging your presence sooner, but the meditative state I was in prevented me from doing so. I hope this does not devalue the intentions behind my inquiries into the state of your being."
Uhura sighed, almost pleading for a time when the Vulcan would finally open up to her more than how he now presently did.
"I'm doing fine, thank you Spock, but actually, while I have come here to talk to you about things, I'm also here because... of something else."
At the slump of her shoulders, the Vulcan's curiosity peaked.
"Might I inquire as to what it is that has brought you to my quarters?" Spock probed, undeniably intrigued by the new direction which the conversation took.
"It concerns us Spock. After everything that's happened, after everything that you've been through, that we've been through, I can't stop thinking about the pain that you're in, and I've found that, whenever I try talking to you about it, you avoid the topic like it's worse than Jim or something."
"Nyota, you of all people should be able to comprehend that Vulcans are incapable of feeling such primitive emotions such as sadness or otherwise. In response to the current situation it would be most illogical, leading only to a further compromised state of mind."
"Don't you see Spock," Nyota said exasperatedly "this is what I mean!"
"I do not comprehend your statement. What does, 'this', refer to?"
"'This' refers to our relationship Spock!"
Eyes widening almost perpendicular to how they had while on the bridge, Spock replied in an aloof tone, "Is our romantic relation causing you distress at this moment Nyota."
"Yes! For God's sake, yes! This is causing me a shit ton of distress, Spock! How else would you expect me to react in this situation? Calmly?"
"Calm would be a most logical state of mind to be in."
"Are... are you calling me, illogical?" Uhura asked, narrowing her eyes to slits.
"I did not voice such a thing, therefore I cannot control how you may take it, whether it be negative or otherwise." Spock replied, slightly raising one of his pointed brows.
"I see." responded Uhura stiffly. "Well if that's what you think of me, then perhaps it would be better for you to find someone more 'logical', because this, whatever it was that we had going on, is not working Spock."
"I do not concur with your conclusion Nyota, but if you wish to perform such an action, there is little I can do to prevent you from doing so."
"So that's it? That's all you have to say after 6 months of being together? That you cannot 'prevent' me from doing so? Has it ever crossed your mind that you could at least pretend to love me on a non-platonical level? I love you with all my heart Spock, I always have, but I can't continue dating you if you stubbornly insist on being this emotional distanced all the time. It's not healthy for either of us."
"As I said prior, and as I say now, I cannot prevent you from doing what you see fit. If you wish to break off the courtship, then I will no longer pursue you in such a fashion, but it is not my job to decide what you do or do not do."
Sighing frustratedly, Uhura placed her head in her hands before replying, "Then this is it, isn't it Spock? I've been trying so hard to get into that thick skull of yours, to see what you seem to see, yet I can't. Not even now, not after your entire home was destroyed and mother killed-"
"Do not bring my mother nor my deceased planet into the matter." Spock said, shoulders tense and back straight.
Sensing Spock's discomfort, Uhura changed the direction which the flow of their conversation had headed.
"I'm sorry Spock, it's just..., I can't... be with you, if you don't even want me there."
An uncomfortable silence soon stretched to fill the room as the two took the moment to take in what had just been said.
"This is not to say that we still can't be friends though Spock. It's just, I feel as though if we really weren't ready for more, and seeing as how we just rushed into things, it's honestly not that surprising to find out that in the end, we're both stuck in this place," Uhura gestured to the room around her, "feeling like complete shit."
"I just can't, is what I'm trying to say here, but, that doesn't mean that I would mind you sitting with me for lunch and chatting like we used to, y'know?-"
Just as Uhura was nearing the end of her speech, Spock's communicator buzzed to life, and intent on having the interruption dealt with, opened it.
"Officer Spock here."
"Ah, Spock, hey listen, are you free right now?" asked the Captain in his iconic honey thick voice.
Glancing at Uhura for a split second, Spock responded.
"Currently, no, but if the matter is urgent, I will make my way down to the bridge immediately."
"Oh, no, it's nothing like that, in fact, it's more or less a personal matter, meaning that this can wait until whenever it is that you're free."
"In that case Captain, I will most probably be available in an estimated time interval of ten Terran minutes."
"Splendid Mr. Spock! I'll expect to see you in my quarters in 15 minutes then."
Hello there wonderful people! This is my first ever published fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy!