What Do You Need, Tell Me

Disclaimer: Star Trek and its wonderful characters do not belong to me, sadly.

It is madness, utter madness that has prevailed this day…

Somewhere in the distance, in the fog of his mind an objective looms and he rises moving mechanically as though by rote, without his usual analytical thoughts or dwelled upon path… He arrives at the turbolift, enters smoothly, quickly selecting a destination that is more so vague then not. And then, in the next moment as if in a dream, a familiar pleasantness and warmth suddenly alerts his senses, his internal agitation distracted as he feels her nearness…

A breath is held…

His stance, initially rigid, now is persuaded to reconsider its bearing; his body eases, his eyes soften as they rest upon her. They watch and are mesmerized again as always, taking the sight of her in and enveloping her completely without hesitation… Eyes that endlessly speak of his feelings for her follow her every movement, from her swift and unanticipated presence before him, to her pause of the turbolift suspending them in time.

Her gaze, awash with love, is intent upon him, all else unimportant. She has intuitively crafted an intimate moment that offers them the chance to begin to allay the turmoil within. Together they will rise above it.

Her sole and immediate focus is his needs, to comfort this unique and extraordinary man that she loves as he has experienced the greatest nightmare of his life…

Her profound concern, evident in her flooded eyes, seeps into him. There are no barriers between them, he does not resist her nor can he look away. He is lost in an ocean of pain and his need for her is overwhelming… She is all that is left of an emotional steadiness, connection and meaningful understanding of what has shaped his life. She is the world to him, all that he has left; his weakness and his strength. Their history, their bond and love powerful and strong long ago established will serve them through their anguish… She knows him, understands his inability to define, express or put into words his distress and his pain.

Tenderly she attempts to reach his stricken soul, sending her thoughts to him in their way…

S'ti th'laktra … I grieve with thee…

And then the urgency of it all overtaking her, she asks, "What do you need? Tell me." It is the desperation of her heart and mind anxious to soothe him… He hears but is frozen within, trapped by time and training.

His mind without relief replays the loss… cannot let go of it… He does not understand the logic of this reality as it reasserts itself again and again. And subtly his control seems to be diminishing... unraveling. He no longer can be sure… is uncertain if logic can keep him in check given the magnitude of what he has lost. Nyota, she is there, she is one with him…

How, she wonders… how can he be expected to function or maintain his sanity? His internal struggles, to express or resist emotion forever a factor, now come face to face with unprecedented and unparalleled chaotic focus. From the depths of hell of an alternate reality he is made to compensate for a tragedy not yet known to him.

A singular moment passes and then another… she suddenly and very tenderly captures his face in her hands, continuing to entreat him with her eyes, to release himself from the rigidity and confines of logic…

She kisses him on his lips, along his cheek… holds him so very close and as she does he finds himself slipping unable to hold back any longer. The trust he feels in her carries him. At last he collapses into her arms and, in a pause of time, he relinquishes his hold on all the emotions he has kept at bay… and dissolves into her. She accepts with love the care of his soul allowing him to experience a momentary measure of calmness and relief… She is a gift…

She kisses him again and he closes his eyes, he is adrift, alone with her… the burden shared…

But all too soon, logic seeks to regain its footing stealthily intent on suppressing all signs of despair and grief… he is, after-all, a Vulcan, a man trained to suspend any signs of feeling or sentiment.

Within moments and in the end the adamancy of his world resurfaces as though never set aside. He answers her query finally in the selfless manner of his individuality, "I need everyone to continue performing admirably…"

"Yes, all right" she says quietly and he is grateful for her acceptance of how he must be. As he steps away, parting from her, he remains deeply aware that she is there for him… his Love, is there for him.

A/N: I realize that this is another of many expressed observations, interpretations and thoughtful examination of the turbolift scene but, like so many others, I could not help myself. For me it was the most beautiful and touching display of love and understanding between a man devastated and emotionally hidden and this lovely woman who aches for him and accepts the truth of him. The language they shared was much more than verbal exchanges could ever be.

This effort is my first and hopefully not my last.

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