Nyota curled up on her bed and tried to block out the images of the fleet of ships destroyed by Nero. She had been reliving that terrible day both in her dreams as well as her waking hours for far too long. In addition, she could also see the destruction of Vulcan as though it were once again happening right in front of her eyes. She and the rest of the Enterprise crew had been powerless to stop the senseless murder of so many. She had lost countless friends that day, and Spock had lost not only his mother but also his home planet. Her heart ached for him, for her friends, and for herself. Everyone who survived had been forced to see a counselor numerous times. By order of Starfleet the visits had continued even after they were all cleared for duty. Nyota found them completely unhelpful. Being with Spock, talking with him, sharing her feelings with the person she cared for most was the only thing that made the least difference. She felt free to be herself around him and to be totally honest about her feelings. Plus, Spock didn't ask idiotic questions such as, "And how does that make you feel?" Still the nightmares and waking dreams had not gone away.

Nyota felt the tears beginning to sting her eyes again. How many times would she cry? Would the grief, pain, and anger ever end? She rose from the bed and began to pace around the room. Soon the silent tears became sobs. She hadn't cried this hard before. Surely anyone in the corridor could hear her. She tried to regain her composure, but the effort only seemed to make matters worse. There was a knock at the door. She hoped whoever was there would go away. They knocked a second time, but she still refused to answer. The door opened without her permission and Spock entered. He took one look at her and rushed to her side. "Nyota! What's wrong? Are you ill or injured? Shall I call Doctor McCoy?"

Nyota shook her head and wrapped her arms around his waist. She continued sobbing into his shirt. He held her and spoke soothingly. Slowly she was able to regain control and cry herself out. That was one of the many wonderful things about Spock, although he had embraced his Vulcan side, he never judged or chided her for her emotions. He accepted her just as she was.

"Come and lie down," he said gently. He guided her over to the bed and had her lie on her stomach. His warm hands slipped up under her shirt. Starting with her neck and working his way down, he began to rub her back. He sought out and massaged away areas of tension with expert fingers. Nyota sighed as her body relaxed.

"Better?" He whispered in her ear.

"Yes, thank you."

"What upset you?"

"Same as always. This time I thought, what if the person you assigned to take my place on the other ship died? If he did, I as good as killed him by insisting on being on the Enterprise."

"That is not true," Spock replied. "If that ensign died, the fault would be mine for giving in to you."

Nyota hadn't thought of that. She hoped she had not just placed one more source of guilt on Spock's conscience. "No, it would be mine for being so stubborn," she insisted.

"As it happens, he survived. I checked with Starfleet, because I felt that if he had died I was responsible."

Nyota gave him a weak smile. "Well that's one worry off both of us."

"Nyota, I know it is difficult, especially for a race so passionate as humans, but you must move on. I have come to terms with all that I lost that day by realizing that there was nothing I could have done to stop it. There was nothing any of us could have done. How can I help you to make peace with it as well?"

"I don't know. For those of us who are pure human, these things simply take time. There's an old Earth saying 'Time heals all wounds.'"

Spock nodded. "You know that I am always here if you want to talk." He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb.

"Yes, and I can't tell you how much that means to me." She pressed her lips tenderly to his. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

"As you wish."

"Spock, I love you." She had told him this several times. Generally he would reply with a kiss instead of words. It never bothered her. She knew it would be difficult for him to answer her verbally. She had resigned herself to the fact that he would probably always express his feelings for her in actions rather than words.

"Nakupenda pia," he answered softly.

"You know Swahili?" She was both pleased and surprised.

"Only the one phrase. I looked it up so that I could answer you."

"You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to."

They continued to talk softly until they fell asleep. The next morning Nyota was grateful to wake up and find that her sleep had not been interrupted by nightmares. Maybe after yesterday's meltdown the worst was finally behind her. She knew that she still had some healing to do, but she was confident that the man who was still sleeping peacefully beside her would be with her every step of the way.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed my last Star Trek one shot. I'm not certain how many more stories will come from this, but I have an idea in mind for at least one more. Also, I promise that it will have nothing to do with Spock or Nyota's grieving process. It seemed only fair since Spock's grief was the theme of the first story that Nyota should get her own time in the spotlight. Also, who doesn't want a massage from a Vulcan when feeling stressed or upset? I'd much rather have a nice massage than an Empath like Troi telling me how I feel when I already know.