A.N. This is a supplement for my story Progress. It's not required to read the other story, but it make more sense. It can be read as either friendship or K/S, although it's intended to be friendship. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Star Trek.

Compromise

There were some things Spock simply couldn't explain. He couldn't explain the blatant discrimination that he faced as a young child on Vulcan. He couldn't explain his human mother and why she had given up everything to live with her husband and son. He couldn't explain his own desires to serve in Starfleet on a ship that was primarily comprised of humans. And he couldn't explain the fascinating hold that the Captain, James T. Kirk, had over him.

From the first time he saw him, during the Kobayashi Maru test, he had been fascinated by the cocky, brash young man. Even as he found a deep loathing for Kirk, he was also captivated by his spontaneity and his ability to turn a seemingly horrible situation into a positive. His lack of belief in a no-win situation, if you will.

His innate curiosity regarding Kirk had greatly influenced his decision to remain on the Enterprise. He wanted to learn more about this strange creature, to understand why he acted the way he did, to know what motivated his illogical decisions.

However, instead of coming to understand the young captain, Spock discovered that, more often than not, he came up with more questions than answers. And the more time he spent in the captain's company, the more he came to the conclusion that there simply might not be answers. At least not the kind that he could explain scientifically and then file.

But that was absurd. There were always answers to questions, he just wasn't looking in the right places for them.

So it wasn't surprising for Spock when he found himself incapable of pulling away from the captain when he captured his hand for 'palm reading' and refused to let go. When he asked Kirk why, he decided that "Just because" was a perfectly good answer. It was illogical, but most things about the captain were illogical. He decided the best way to get through the ordeal was to merely accept the human's unintentional advances.

As the tremors trailed up and down his body, Spock focused his energy onto shielding himself from Kirk's thoughts. But it was more difficult than he had originally thought as he desperately craved to know what the other man was thinking. Did he know what he was doing to Spock? Was he aware of the sexual connotations that existed in the Vulcan hands?

And yet he didn't pull away. It hadn't taken long after becoming the first officer on the Enterprise for Spock to notice that Kirk was a very physical person and seemed to reassure himself through touch. While Spock still found himself uncomfortable with the occasional hand on the shoulder or gentle nudge, he knew that it was important to Kirk. And it wasn't intolerable for Spock. Part of him was even starting to look forward to it, even through his discomfort.

Spock couldn't explain why he hadn't immediately sent Kirk to his quarters when he came knocking on his door later that night. Later, he would blame it on disorientation due to blindness and the late hour. At the time, though, Spock had no logical reason behind his indulgence of his captain, even if it had only been for five point two minutes.

To say that he had no idea how to react would be a drastic understatement, even for Spock. When the other man cuddled up against his chest, Spock found himself at a loss, torn between the need to push him away and the desire to hold him close.

He was stunned by the apologies. Kirk had nothing to apologize for, at least, not to the best of Spock's knowledge. Unless he had discovered the method behind Vulcan kissing habits. Spock decided that this was probably accurate and tried to find a way to comfort the man.

But Spock had never had such training. He could solve scientific calculations and estimate odds with alarming accuracy, yet he was clueless when it came to human emotions. So he merely stood there, allowing the captain to use him as a giant teddy bear. He found he had to stop hands from attacking his face, but he decided that it wasn't too much of a bother.

"Please don't hate me."

Spock froze, not sure what to say. Hate him? He couldn't hate Kirk, not even if he wanted to, which was more often than it probably should have been. Dislike? Of course. Loathe? On occasion. But hate? Never. It wasn't a word that Spock understood, not even in the aftermath of the destruction of Vulcan.

But he knew that Kirk probably didn't mean it. He seemed to have consumed an excessive amount of alcohol, and he informed him of this fact. Kirk ignored him and giggled insanely. The next thing Spock knew, there was a hand gliding over the tip of his ear, a gentle whisper over the sensitive cartilage. Spock bit back a gasp and was momentarily relieved that Kirk was inebriated, or the perceptive man probably would have noticed.

"I like your ears. They're fascinating."

Spock's breath caught in his throat and he pulled away quickly, needing to get away from the suffocating presence of his captain. Spock had never heard that his ears were fascinating. He had never considered them worthy of appreciation. They were, after all, just ears. If anything, they had merely served as another form of torment for him.

Back on Vulcan, his pointed ears had been normal and expected. However, upon transferring to Starfleet Academy, they had been something else for the students to tease him about. If he hadn't been a Vulcan, he would have lost count long ago of how many times his ears had been the central point to an insult. Most noticeably, Doctor McCoy threw in an insult revolving around his ears at least once a day. It was rather remarkable that the man didn't get tired or bored with his typical verbal abuse.

But Kirk-no, Jim-liked them. He was also inebriated, which more than likely nullified anything that the captain had to say. He wished that he could see. While he might not often experience emotions or know how to deal with them, he could also recognize them. And Jim made no effort to hide his, making it particularly easy. If he could see his face.

Spock almost sighed before he caught himself. It didn't take long for Jim to stumble his way out of Spock's room, leaving him alone with thoughts that he couldn't comprehend or explain.

The next morning, Spock realized that he was grateful for the fact that Vulcans don't need much rest. After Jim had left, Spock had gotten approximately 1.2 hours of sleep. Needless to say, he wasn't up to his usual functioning standards. He knew that he had less control and hoped that Kirk wouldn't go out of his way to provoke him today.

Spock stood up and slowly pulled on clothing. It had taken him two days before he had mastered the art of getting dressed while blind. It had taken him longer to get used to brushing his teeth showering.

After getting ready for another day of sitting around with nothing to do, he felt his way over to the replicator to get himself a hot tea. Though he would never admit it, there was a soothing quality to holding a cup of hot tea between his hands. Moments later, the door opens and Jim walked in quietly. Spock sat still, trying to anticipate his captain's actions. He heard him move over to the replicator before coming to sit next to him.

They exchanged greetings and Spock waited for him to continue. It seemed like he wanted to say something, even if he couldn't see him. The air around them was tense with unsaid words. Spock decided that, if Jim wasn't going to say anything, he might as well inquire at Kirk's current health.

Before he had a chance to say anything, though, he felt Jim stand up again and move back over to the replicator. He could hear dishes clanking around and then Jim's voice called out quietly through the silence, "Breakfast is ready, Spock."

Spock stood up and walked over the table, suppressing a cringe when he accidently ran into the corner of his desk. He was 99% sure that it would leave an unpleasant bruise by the next morning. He decided it would be best to ignore it and he took his seat across from Jim.

He fumbled around for his fork for a second before finding it. A defeated feeling raced through Spock's spine before he quelled it. He couldn't wait for his eyesight to return. He was growing tired of his dependence on other people and he was tired of being viewed as less than competent at anything. Inwardly, he knew that Kirk didn't view him that way, but he still disliked being perceived as anything less than in control.

The silence was deafening, overpowering. And in that moment, Spock was back in the cell on Organia, waiting for the Klingons or Kirk. Whichever came first. Alone in the darkness of, not only the room, but of himself. His own anger at the situation, his continued sorrow over the loss of his mother and home planet, his growing affection for Captain Kirk. All of which were emotions that he had been trained to suppress. Emotions that, at that moment, he didn't want to suppress. Emotions that he didn't know how to handle if he didn't subdue them.

The sound of Kirk's voice alerted him to his current location.

Spock imperceptibly shook his head. No. He wasn't on Organia. He wasn't the dark monster of emotions that tried to consume him. He was on the Enterprise. With Captain James T. Kirk.

And he couldn't handle it.

Without saying a word, Spock stood up and left the room, not caring that he was blind or that he was risking some form of injury. If he remained in the room, he would have snapped. He couldn't afford to snap. He just needed to regain his control. Behind him, he could hear Kirk chasing after him. An irrational surge of anger coursed through him. He needed someone to blame, anyone to blame.

This was Jim's fault. If he hadn't so casually invaded his personal space, Spock might have a firmer grasp on his control. If Kirk hadn't continually interrupted his mediation sessions, he would be able to regain said control.

"You know I do not appreciate having my personal space invaded," heard himself say, turning around to face the approaching man. Kirk stopped and looked uncertain as to how to proceed. Apologies began to tumble out of his mouth, seemingly of their volition. Just like that, the irrational anger that he had felt towards Jim vanished, leaving an empty feeling in its stead. Spock found that the empty feeling was far worse than the overwhelming slew of emotions he had been feeling for the past few days.

Of course, he didn't know how to express this, so he stood there in silence, and darkness, listening to Kirk as he worked himself up into an unfounded rage that baffled Spock. Before he knew what was happening, he was being yelled at by his captain in the hallway, passing ensigns pausing to observe the odd occurrence.

"Why won't you just get angry? Yell, fight, I don't care! Just do something," Jim yelled. "Why do you always have to be so emotionally controlled? Huh? You're not doing anyone any favors. If anything, you turn people away from you, you make them want to hate you!" He paused for a moment and then Spock found himself being shoved against wall. "You just can't make anything easy, can you?"

He could hear the captain's retreating footsteps and he stood in silence, leaning against the wall. He couldn't understand Kirk's outburst, but he imagined that it probably came from the same place that his own emotional turbulence came from.

He pushed himself up from the wall and turned to head back to his quarters. It was then that he realized that he had no idea where he was. In his emotional turmoil, he hadn't kept track of where he had gone. Now he was somewhere in the middle of a hallway on the Enterprise with no method to find his way back to his quarters.

Spock needn't worry though, as moments later, the sound of approaching footsteps made themselves known and stopped in front of him.

"Spock," the soft voice of his captain whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Spock listened to him and smiled internally. He had already known that Kirk hadn't meant what he said, and while it still was unpleasant to hear, part of him knew that he was also right. Of course, he wouldn't let him know that, but he could definitely make a mental note to try to improve in this area. After all, no one likes to be hated, not even emotionally suppressed half-Vulcans.

"Apology accepted, Captain," Spock said and felt part of the tension in his insides uncoil. And the apology was accepted, because he hadn't really been angry to begin with, and not because Vulcans don't feel anger. Yes, Kirk had invaded his personal space and yes, palm reading was inappropriate by Vulcan standards. But Spock knew that, on the Enterprise, he couldn't function by strictly Vulcan standards. And as a half-human, he realized that it wasn't such an illogical idea to try to compromise with his human crew members.

Spock could compromise. Cultural misunderstandings would happen and they would just have to take them in stride. And it would be okay.

After Spock meditated, anyway.