Eh, Hey guys! I know some of you have read this already without my little introduction, because I'm a little scatterbrained. Hehe... Yea, well I have recently been admitted to the Star Trek fandom, and a friend of mine actually commissioned me to write this... sooooo I did... As always, Hope you enjoy! ^_^

Click!

"Captain, yeh got a` important transmission on terminal 9."

Kirk furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Who could possibly have sent him a message? The current rate for space transmissions, was too expensive for most civilians. The only messages that normally came through from Star Fleet, and he couldn't think of any reason why they would need to speak to him.

"Sir?"

"I'll be there shortly, ." Acknowledged Kirk after a few moments of thought.

Click!

"Mr. Spock, you have the Comm."

Kirk walked through the sliding doors towards the turbo lift and punched the button for the engineering deck. His hands were folded behind his back as he waited for the few moments it would take to reach his destination, still going through his mind the possibilities of who could send him the transmission. He stopped at the terminal, his fingers flashed across the keys so that he could access this very important transmission. Once logged on, he clicked the flashing icon. The awaiting message expanded filling up the tiny terminal screen with what appeared to be a hand written message.

Dear Son,

I'm dying. Actually, I will probably have passed by the time you receive this. About a month ago I contracted cancer and it gave me time to think about what I've done with my life. I realized the hell I put you through, the hell I put your mother through. I realize I was just covering up the hurt I felt from my life. I am ashamed to admit that I thought your mother's money would make me happy, and when it didn't, I drowned my sorrows with alcohol until I reached a drunk stupor. Then I wouldn't, couldn't be responsible for my actions. That was a lie, I fed myself to take my anger out on you, the only person available besides your mother. I was wrong for that, and I know there is nothing I can say to change the fact that I hurt you. Probably too much to repair. I'm not asking for forgiveness, I feel that I just need to get this off my chest. Hell awaits me Kirk, and I know there is nothing I can do. I waited until it was too late. I was scared that you would become just like me, but you are a better than I could ever dream of being, and I know your father would be proud.

-Frank

Kirk's knuckles were pale against the edge of the terminal where he was clutching the screen. White hot anger raged through his body causing his frame to shake and his fist slammed against the wall. The metal scraped his knuckles against the jutting supports and beads of blood dripped down his wrist. Why now had his stepfather had the sudden change of heart. He was right. Nothing he could say could mend the years of hurt that he had caused him.

"Fuck!"

His voice cracked slightly. Scotty, who had been sitting in the corner by his own terminal, watched on quietly, unsure of weather or not he should interfere. It was obviously something extreme for the captain to react the way he had. This was not a situation that he knew how to handle. Give him malfunctioning mechanical parts and he could fix it with ease. But human emotional breakdowns? That was the worst death possible. He cowered in his chair, slumping as far down as he could so as not to be noticed.

"Sir?"

When he didn't receive a response he decided to contact someone that may have been able to do something.

Click!

"Eh, Dr. McCoy, I seem to be confronted with a bit of a dilemma, Kirk is particularly angry, and I donnea know what to do."

Hopefully his best friend since he had joined Star Fleet as a cadet, could help out, but he was sadly disappointed.

"I have to preform a surgery right now, ummm I can't come, if it's as bad as you say it is... Get Spock or something, if I know Jim, it'll role off his back in no time!"

Click!

"I cannae believe this! He wants that man devoid of all emotion to assist with an emotional crisis? Good lord!"

Kirk hadn't even heard his friend speak as he stormed out the room, and headed to to quarters to think through this situation. It had taken so long to bury these emotions, so long to forget the pain of his childhood. Finally, Kirk sat down on the edge of his unmade bed, his forehead rested in his hands. After a few minutes, he stood up again, and restlessly paced the room. He couldn't think through his rage, and once more walked out and headed towards the Rec Room, somewhere he could damage something without hurting himself or the ship.

He stepped out into the open room, and pushed a button and the punching bag dropped down for the ceiling. He had enough sense to wrap his knuckles in some tape to protect them. A barrage of punches landed against the punching bag. It rocked back and forth on it's hinge, swinging forcefully back at Kirk. The room was spinning and it seemed like the room had gone up in temperature by 20 degrees and so removed his shirt, and began to strike the bag once more.

"Ghhaaaa!"

One more punch and the bag unhooked itself from it's chain and crashed to the floor. Sweat dripped from his body, his breath came in ragged gasps and his arm rested against the wall. The door slid open and Spock walked in calmly.

"Captain, Mr. Scotty contacted me and said there was something wrong, and that he had never seen you this distressed. It's not good for our captain to be so emotionally compromised."

Spock had no idea how to deal with a situation like this. He could only hope that logic could would present him with an answer.

"Not now . I can't deal with your crap right now. Please leave me alone."

He hadn't meant to attack his friend, but his anger almost seemed tangible.

"Sir, I care about your well being, that's why I came."

Kirk couldn't help himself anymore and the words came spewing out of him with no restraint. The anger took over.

"I am dealing with an emotion called anger, Spock, something you wouldn't understand."

"Sir, I don't think that is called for."

"You know what's not called for? Having your father die the day you were born, and your mother marrying a drunk who only cares about your money. You don't know what it's like to come home to someone so drunk out of their mind, that even when you try to fight back while they're beating you, you can't because they can't feel it. To know that you have to keep your father from beating your own mother so you do crazy shit to keep the attention on you."

"You are implying that I do not understand the emotional pain of loss or the physical pain of abuse. On the contrary, if you recall, not long ago I lost my mother when Nero destroyed my home planet and I was powerless to save her."

"Like hell you do. When I was 13, my stepdad was so drunk that he passed out and so I knew it was going to be a particularly bad day for my mother if I didn't do something drastic. So, I stole his vintage corvette that he used my mothers money to buy, and drove off from the bar so he would know who had taken it. I was always doing crazy shit like that. I was driving towards the canyon when sure enough I got a call. He was so pissed at me, and I knew that I just didn't care anymore. I didn't want to go home and get the shit beaten out of me anymore, I didn't want to go home to a mother that instead of celebrating my birthday, mourned for my father. I could have ended it then. I drove straight for the ledge, ready to go off with the car, but at the last moment, I couldn't do it. I jumped out and watched the car tumble into the void."

Tears had starts to stream down Kirk's face with no restraint, his face was turned away from Spock and he paced the room furiously. His hand kept brushing through his disheveled hair and he kept wiping at his face, trying to regain his composure. Spock stood and watched, his hands clasped behind his back. Maybe he was out of his league. Maybe there was no way to help Kirk at this moment. Maybe he just had to settle this on his own. He turned to leave and then he was reminded of that memory. He felt some reservation about sharing his own emotional experiences but maybe that was what Kirk needed. In a moment of logical conclusions, Spock took several long strides until he was directly in front of Kirk.

"You claim that I do not understand, perhaps it would be better for you to experience my emotions as I felt them."

Spock stuck out of his hand and placed against Kirk's temple. In his mind's eye, Kirk was transported into a dark room with many holes in the floor where individual Vulcan children stood surrounded by projected holograms of things that Kirk couldn't even dream of understanding. The lights turned on and the images disappeared, and he walked towards a set of staircases to reach ground level. There he found three much older and taller Vulcan boys who approached him.

"I take you have prepared new insults for me today."

The words escaped Kirk's lips without any control.

"Affirmative."

"This is your 95th attempt to illicit an emotional response from me."

"Perhaps it requires physical stimuli."

Kirk felt the boys shove him roughly, causing him to stumble backwards.

"He's a traitor you know, your father, for marrying that human whore."

Rage enveloped Kirk causing him to push the kid back into one of the empty bowls. He then slid down next to him and began punching him repeatedly in the face. The other boys grabbed him from behind and pulled him off the other boy and held his arms behind his back while the first one he had punched struggled to his feet, blood streaming from his nose and approached the retrained Kirk.

"Your human side makes you no different from the lowlife humans. You have no self restraint and therefore you have no place here in Vulcan society."

The boy kneed Kirk in the groin and he felt himself double over as pain shot up through his spine , and then the boy punched him in the stomach, and he felt the unmistakable snap of ribs.

And then the vision faded, and Kirk was once again in the present moment, his breath was ragged as he still felt the lingering presence of pain. A new found realization came to Kirk and he saw Spock in a new light.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know."

"That is not something I share with everyone. I prefer not to dwell on the events of my past that I have no control over. It is done and I ended up surpassing all of them. I was even elected to attend the Vulcan science academy, a very high honor. But they too still obsessed a condescending demeanor towards my heritage and so I declined, electing instead to enlist in Star Fleet."

"It's just... Damn it Spock! The transmission, it was from my stepdad. It was a fucking apology. He's dead now, and he thinks he can make it better with a fucking letter. I don't know what to do Spock."

"I don't think I can tell you what to do in this situation, I can simply guide you in the most logical direction. To me, it seems as if this letter was written by the man himself on his death bed as a way to forgive himself. It's quite possible it was never meant to get to you in the first place. You have to find it within yourself weather or not you want to forgive him."

Most of the tears and anger had dissipated, leaving behind an emotionally exhausted man. But he had gotten his emotions out, and he felt better. The sweat had dried on his skin, and now he began to shiver. Spock saw this and out of impulse, wrapped his gangly arms around his captain and drew him into a hug. It may not have been the normal, logical response for one such as himself, but sorrow and grief for humans, usually required consolation, and now that Kirk's anger had gone, that consolation could be given.

"Thanks, Spock, your the greatest friend a man could have."

So, please leave a comment if you enjoyed reading this. I really hope I didn't stay too far of the ole' OOC road... (No I don't...) And if your wondering... Yes... Spirk is my OTP. (I'd call it something else, but apparently people don't like what is should be called if Kirk's name came first...) But anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!