Stars and planets rushed past in one, long blur. Spock watched, seeing nothing. His dark eyes were focused on a scene that had played out before him hours before. The newly captained Kirk would bear the marks of hands around his throat for weeks. Vulcans were not known for their gentle natures when provoked. Spock hung his head, eyes squeezing closed against the unwanted rise of guilt and regret. They were emotions and he had to learn not to give in to them.
Sarek had practically given him permission to feel. This went against an entire life of learning and training. As a Vulcan it was Spock's duty to force his feelings into that dark abyss in the back of his mind where unwanted thoughts were banished for all time. He hoped.
Sometimes the young Vulcan wondered if that Abyss would swallow him whole one day. It scared him, but he would not admit to that emotion - ever. It was worse than the regret, because it was a weakness and a personal failing. Fear was suppose to be something beneath him. Spock sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping against the weight of personal expectation.
Kirk had been right to question his abilities.
- THE END