Unanswered Questions
Honestly, what the hell did they all think? That she was invincible? That because he was Vulcan, she must be Vulcan, too? That the woman who they looked at everyday and talked to, and knew, and saw endure so much (yet survived, fairly effortlessly) must not be capable of lasting damage? Sometimes, lately, she had feelings that she was being judged at every corner, mostly by people who knew no better, but judgment is judgment, especially when she was trying so hard not to be judgmental, herself. She knew that several of her crew mates were judging her for what was becoming of her marriage, and how she was handling it and handling her situation, altogether. The only people that she did not believe to be doing it were the ones who were there that day...
Lately, she felt that practically everyone was frowning upon her, like they had all allowed their brains to form opinions of conditions which they could not comprehend. Most of the people on the ship were human. In some of the most primitive places that Starfleet had come across, there were reports of rape, but it was not a common practice within advanced civilizations, like Earth. The hate crime had been frequented in Earth's history, but those days were so far behind the planet, now that even the research that Nyota tried to do on the subject seemed too limited to actually learn anything from. And sometimes, it was even undetermined as a rape. How was such a heinous thing determined?
Did her situation even count as one, considering that the physical assailant had been mentally coerced, himself? She wondered. Not to mention, could this even qualify, considering that the physical assailant mentally coerced was her own husband? She lamented, silently. She thought that she mourned silently better than anyone on the damned ship. And, if it was rape, how did one deal with that? Historical studies left that part out, and in Earth's history, there was not enough exposure to telepathic nor to psychokinetic coercion abilities, therefore, the handling of them in such situations was not ever reported. Everyone acted as though they understood her feeling pain. They had no idea. She could not describe it to them, if she tried, and they could not find anything outside of experience to learn this kind of pain from. What did they know? Who were they to judge her?
Grateful this day, for the ability to walk, she climbed out of the bed. She had to admit, her limp was pretty bad and to make her walk somewhat decent looking took fierce concentration and effort. As she went into the lavatory to wash up, she thought about her feelings and her actions... she had seriously began to hate people. Not the people who counted – not her bridge crew and those that she had bonded with from day one on the ship, but those other four hundred plus people that she had to live among. She hated the smiles in her face, behind pitying eyes, she hated the whispers behind her back when she was still within hearing distance. She hated the nosy questions, disguised as concern, and the comments from strangers – that was the worse.
Such a comment occurred that very day. She could vaguely hear the rest of the conversation, someone was mentioning that they heard that she was assaulted, she tried to tune it out, because she knew that either they would guess right, and she would have to think about what happened, or they would guess wrong, and she would get angry that her tragedies were fickle guesses to them. Then, she heard it, the statement that had been harping on her own mind for weeks, now. A security officer commented, "I thought that Vulcans' mates are supposed to be strong." He had thought that she was out of earshot, but she had heard it, and unfortunately, for him, so had Styik, who was about to catch up to his mother when the statement intercepted his intentions.
Styik briskly walked over to the man and pointed a finger right at his face, "And how strong are you? Shall I test you, myself?" Nyota panicked and went in their direction as Styik placed his finger on the man's forehead. The man screamed in pain and fell backwards from his chair. the others seated near him scattered away from the table. Styik kicked the chair out of his way to go after the man, but heard Nyota call his name. He paused, pointed at the shaken man and said, "Think before you speak, and when you speak, watch what you say and who you say it in front of." He glanced at the others who were standing around, daringly. He dared somebody to open their mouth with another opinion.
He walked over to Nyota and opened his mouth to explain, but she cut him off. "I heard what he said, Styik, and that is no excuse. The man is entitled to his opinion."
Styik glared at the man as others helped him to his feet. Styik said, "Well, I am not apologizing. He was wrong." Styik looked at Nyota and said, "You are extremely strong, Mother. You can take more than anyone in this room. You are handling this issue better than my biological mother handled it, and she was Vulcan, not just a Vulcan's wife. You have been there for anybody on this ship that you come across who needs it, and now that you are faced with something that they don't understand, something that can scar even a Vulcan woman, these people think that they can just judge you? I will not allow it."
"You know that your father will administer punishment for you attacking a Starfleet officer."
"Father would have punched that fool in the face, if he had heard him." Styik said. Nyota found herself laughing at the statement. It, of course, was not near truth, but the fact that Styik had made a statement of what would have run through Spock's mind, so accurately solicited laughter from her, and she had not even taken any hypos that day.
She had an appointment to receive hysterectomy injections. Only three more weeks, she told herself. When she received her injections, she was given mood balancing hypos to take with her, in case of side effects, and she did not work for two days, until the mood altering side effects could be out of her system. This was not helping, either, and she happened to hope that a lot of her behavior would change whenever her reproductive system had been removed.
She smiled at Dr. McCoy as she entered the medical bay. Spock was already there. He came to her appointments with her, to make sure that she could make it back to their quarters well. Nurse Chapel and he were talking when she entered. Nyota sat on the bed and held out her arm. "You and Janice better get moving on getting yourselves a child. You never know when the ability to make them gets taken away." She said it cheerily, and teasingly, but Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel both looked uncomfortable about the comment. Nyota almost laughed, then she felt bad. Why was she picking at them? They loved her. They understood. They weren't judging her.
Dr. McCoy shook his head and said, "Oh, no. Janice and I decided that neither of us wanted children before we ever even selected rings. Besides, an unemotional one year old goddaughter can sometimes be enough child for everybody." He gave Nyota her injection, then added, "Of course, Sanaa has been emotional for a few weeks. Not emotional like Sytar, but emotional, for her."
Nyota nodded her head and joked, "My human DNA will ruin her yet." She glanced at Spock to read his reaction. Minimal. Mild confusion.
He commented, "Both you and I have shared human genes with our daughter, and I do not believe that she is ruined by them, at all."
"Are you kidding? My princess is perfect. They grow before you realize it. She is going to grow up knowing that she better bring home one hell of a man, if she ever wants to have one." Dr. McCoy said.
Nyota laughed and looked at Spock, "And I thought that you were going to present problems for her, in that area."
Spock lifted his eyebrow and said, "I shall attempt to empathize with the young man who becomes enchanted by our daughter. After all, she looks like her mother, and will most likely develop into just as fascinating a woman." Six weeks ago, McCoy would have poked fun at Spock for his verbal display of emotion.
Today, he smiled, kindly at Nyota and said, "I will try to keep that in mind, but when the time comes, Mr. Spock, I'll be an old man. Probably won't even remember this conversation. In which case, he's in trouble."
Nurse Chapel offered, "Hopefully, you are joking, Doctor. Let's not forget that Sanaa also has two older brothers, one of which is very overprotective."
Nyota laughed and said, "I think that Sanaa will be married for years before she ever thinks about introducing her man to Styik." The other humans laughed, too. Spock tilted his head and opened his mouth.
"It was a joke, Spock." Dr. McCoy said. He looked at his watch, "You two had better be getting along before the hypo kicks in." Nyota nodded and jumped off of the bed. She walked out of the room and Spock followed.
Nurse Chapel said, "It is good to see her in good spirits for today."
"You mean, for right now." Dr. McCoy corrected.
Spock and Nyota walked to their quarters, passing by people who were avoiding looking at them, to Nyota's seeming pleasure. He looked at her and asked, "Has something happened? Generally, others pass by us in the same way when a situation has arisen."
Nyota nodded and said, "In the mess hall, before I ate before my appointment, Styik attacked a security officer. I'm not sure what he did to him. He placed his finger on his forehead, though, so it was probably painful enough for the man to mention it, plus there were so many people in there because it was lunchtime for a lot of them." Spock did not look pleased. She offered, "He has been going through a lot, because of me and how I have been, so try not to be too hard on him." He nodded.
When they were down the hall from their quarters, she began to stagger. Spock reflexively reached out to help her walk, but she bumped the wall, avoiding his touch. She smiled and said, "I got it. We're almost there." Upon entering the room, she collapsed on the bed. Her legs hung off of the side and her arms were outstretched. She hated the first few hours of these injections. She would be conscious, but unable to move, numb. Spock shifted her on the bed, to where she could lay comfortably. She couldn't really feel her body, very much, but he worried that her position may lead to a cramp or tingling sensations upon her feeling returning. "I don't deserve you." She said. He started when he heard her say it. He did not know how to respond to it.
"You have me, Nyota." He decided that much more may have accidentally led to saying the wrong thing. He wished to kiss her, but fought it, as she had not given him any indication that such an action would be acceptable. "I must return to the bridge," he said, before leaving.
Nyota stared at the ceiling. This would be the hardest portion of her day. She would lie awake and think about unanswered questions, and end of with a bevy of inapplicable solutions. Maybe she should not have gotten involved with him. Maybe she should not have married him. Maybe what they had was an illusion – a lie that they both bought. She had pursued him under the pretense that she was strong; that she was a fighter, and now that theory had been proven wrong, as far as she was concerned. It was not fair to him to have to deal with all of this.
In the past, when he had problems, when they had problems, she reached out to him. Generally, she shared all of herself with him and begged him to do the same. She had gotten mad on occasions when he had not. Openly, she had shared her pain, her doubts, her fear, and he had smoothed them away. to be honest, it made no sense, whatsoever, even to her for her to resist the natural urge within their bond to find solace within him in her greatest hours of pain. She knew that no one but him could help hr, but she was afraid of showing her current feelings to him, and even if she was not – what if he himself was too hurt to even help?
What if she had decided to share her hurt only to find that their pain increased by feeding off of one another's pain? What if because they were both in so much pain that they could not love each other through the pain? The thought startled her so much that she jumped up, hardly able to breath. The effect of her injection had worn off. She could move, she discovered. She quickly retrieved the hypo spray for calming her and injected herself with it. Within moments, she was completely docile, and she could still move.
She put her injector away and arose from the bed. She went into the bathroom to use it, and collect herself before going next door. She washed her face and tried to make herself look presentable for them, then she went into their room. The children were each tending to a learning toy, all in concentration on their respective possessions until she entered. Sytar abandoned his toy and rushed over to hug her. She picked him up, for the hug. "Sleepover, Mother." He said.
She sighed and said, "I have to check with your father."
"Sleepover!" He cheered again.
Styik did not look up from the Brain he was performing a telepathic simulation on as he said, "He's three, Mother. He is old enough to realize that Father does not control such decisions."
"Sleepover!" Sytar cheered. Sanaa had walked over to her, now.
Nyota placed Sytar down and kneeled in front of her daughter, "Hello, Daughter. How are you tonight?" She asked. Sanaa liked to be treated like a lady.
She reached out to hug Nyota and whispered, "Sleepover." Sytar laughed and clapped his hands. It was decided. If even Sanaa wanted to have a sleepover, then they must be due for one.
She spent time with them before they headed for the mess hall. Styik took the children and she headed for the bridge. Nyota walked onto the bridge and immediately said to Kirk, "I apologize for coming onto the bridge in civilian attire, Captain. May I speak with Commander Spock?" Kirk glanced at Spock, who was watching them, as curiously as his Vulcan face allowed, which only appeared curious to certain individuals.
"Of course," Kirk answered her question and watched her walk over to her husband, who also watched her the entire way over. She limped over to him and kneeled next to the science station.
"Is there a problem? Are you well?" He asked. There was no indication in his voice that he was worried, but she knew that she had worried him by showing up on the bridge and asking to speak with him.
"I think that it may help the children's morale if we sit together as a family and have dinner. I already agreed to a sleepover, so you have to come to that, but if you can leave the bridge soon, we are headed to dinner right now." Spock nodded his head once and got up.
The children's morale did need adjustment, and they did not respond as well to being told about logic as he had at their ages – for one reason because they were surrounded by illogical humans, and secondly because they were mostly human themselves. Sytar had cried several times in the past six weeks, more than he had all of his infancy. The boy hardly ever cried, and now, that had changed. His crying was caused by things that both parents realized would not possibly have made him cry before their marital problems began. Sanaa, as Dr. McCoy stated had been rather emotional, as well. She was beginning to show anger towards her brothers, and sometimes towards Nyota. Spock credited her biased towards him to all of the nights that he connected with her while inside of her mother, just as Styik and Sytar had pre-birth telepathic bonding connections. Nyota sometimes felt on the outside. Perhaps this decision would serve not only the children, but them as well, Spock thought as he approached Kirk's chair.
"Captain, I am going to leave for the evening." He stated.
Kirk shrugged and said, "Spock, you are here voluntarily. You can go when you please. Is everything alright?" He asked, watching Nyota limp towards the exit.
"I am going to spend some time with my family." Spock stated.
Kirk smiled and said, "Get to it, Mr. Spock."
Supper was pleasant. Styik was seated in between Sanaa and Sytar when Nyota and Spock walked in. Nyota smirked at him. Styik was being sneaky, trying to make them sit next to each other. She could handle it. She needed to handle it, if their marriage was going to survive. She told Spock what she wanted to eat and he went to retrieve the food for them. When she sat in front of Styik, he smirked too. "How did I know that you would invite Father to dinner?" He asked, as though defending his sneaky ways.
Sytar was grabbing his food with his hands and eating, despite the fact that Styik kept hitting his knuckles with a utensil, then handing it to him. They had been having this same battle for the past year. Sanaa was trying to use her utensil, but struggling with her form, but when Styik attempted to help her, she refused his assistance. Styik stated, "Between the two of them, and the two of you, I do not know who is more stubborn." Sytar reached across Styik to grab something off of Sanaa's tray and she struck his hand with her own spoon. He began crying and sat back down. "The two of them." Styik answered his own question.
Sanaa handed her spoon to Styik, "New." She said. He grabbed a cloth and wiped her spoon off for her. She was conscious about germs, especially Sytar's germs. Styik handed her the spoon back just as Spock returned to the table.
Spock placed Nyota's tray in front of her and said, "Sytar, use your utensil." His voice was firm and Sytar reached for his spoon and began to eat his food.
"You are so good at that." Styik said.
"At what, Son?" Spock asked.
"At getting him to listen." Nyota answered for Styik.
"I am his father." Spock said, as though that answered everything, but in a way, it did. Sytar realized that although his mother was the one who made the decisions of sleepovers, Spock was the law. Spock was not as understanding as Nyota in disciplinary matters, and Sytar did not like punishments. He was a cheerful, happy, fun loving child, since birth and punishments ruined his mood. Styik watched Spock and Nyota interact a little tensely, at first and he realized that it was the first time they had been this close since the mission, but they relaxed, fairly soon. Spock said, "If only I had the same affect on my eldest son."
Styik looked from Spock to Nyota, then said, "I am sure that you did not get the full story, Father."
"You mentally assaulted a Starfleet officer." Spock stated, and Styik knew that unspoken portion – it did not matter why.
Still, he explained, "He insulted Mother." Spock felt himself grow angry at that very instant. He and Nyota, and Nyota by herself had been going through a great deal. The thought of anyone insulting her during her high moments angered him, but someone insulting her at this time infuriated him.
"How did he insult her?" Spock asked. Nyota made a sound, an indication that she could not believe that Spock's focus had shifted. But, Spock had to admit to himself, it had.
"He suggested that she was too weak to be your mate to a group of people." Styik said and took a bite of salad off of his fork.
Now, Spock was visibly angry, and Nyota was apt to believe that if he had heard him, maybe he would have punched him in the face. His anger soon flushed away when Nyota reflexively reached out and touched his hand in an effort to console him. He looked at her hand on his, her skin, touching his skin and then looked at her face. She quickly pulled her hand away. She did not want to give him the wrong idea. Touching was still uncomfortable. That had been comfortable, and natural, but only for a moment. She glanced at the children. All three of them were smiling, well, Sanaa was sort of smiling. Nyota picked up her fork and said calmly, "The man is entitled to his opinion, Spock. I happened to agree with him."
Spock pressed his lips together and looked at her. He would not argue with her, or even debate, but she knew that his look was one of disagreement. She sipped her tea. Spock faced Styik and said, "Despite the officer's tastelessness, if you were not Nyota and my own son, and if the officer mentioned was not completely terrified of what you may do next, you could have been charged with a federation crime."
"Like you could have been when you beat down Uncle Jim for insulting your mother?" Styik questioned. They loved him, but Nyota hated when he sassed them. "You yourself were a Starfleet officer when you did that. At least I'm just twelve."
Nyota fussed, "Styik, Spock's mother had just been killed when Captain Kirk insulted her, and he was trying to provoke your father." Nyota defended Spock. That had been completely natural, as well.
Styik appreciated the fact that she was taking up for Spock, but commented, "So her fate was less painful than yours."
"No more attacks!" She snapped at him. A few of the people in the hall turned to look at them.
Spock sighed and nodded his head, "I have to agree, Styik. However, I will understand if you happen to fail at the attempt, from time to time. Do not make a habit of attacking everyone with a voiced opinion that you disagree with."
Styik nodded and said, "I will try."
"Mother, I want cake." Sytar said, upon finishing his meal. She nodded.
"No chocolate." Spock said, knowing that Sytar sometimes "forgot" that chocolate had a negative effect on him. It was not as bad for him as it was for Spock or Styik, but he became restless and hyper for hours. He had snatched a piece of Nyota's during her pregnancy with Sanaa once, and since then, she never even brought chocolate into their quarters. He still managed to get his hands on it sometimes, and had even shared it with his sister, before. She did not react to it much. She became hyper, but no more hyper than a typical human child would to it.
Sytar answered, "Yes, Father," and rushed over to the line for a slice of cake.
Spock asked Sanaa, "Would you like dessert too?" She shook her head. She never asked for dessert. Sometimes, she would have fruit, but nothing sweeter. "Perhaps you ingested enough dessert for the first few years of your life while you were inside of your mother."
Nyota nearly choked on her tea and had to cover her mouth with her hand not to spill it as she attempted to swallow. After she did, she laughed out loud at Spock's comment. Spock allowed himself a tiny smirk at the sound of her laughter.
Sanaa's face became angry and she said, "Not funny, Mother."
Spock touched her small hand and said, "Please, allow her to enjoy her laughter." He knew from the contact that Nyota's reaction did not make sense to the little girl, but she did not say another word about it. When Sytar returned to the table, Nyota was still laughing, although her laughter was dying down.
He set down his strawberry cake and climbed into his seat. "What's funny?" He wondered. He loved laughing. Things that made him laugh were his favorite things.
"Life." Nyota answered. "Life is funny." Suddenly, Sytar blurted out in laughter. Spock, Styik, and Nyota looked at him, all knowing that he had no idea what was funny about life, or even what his mother was talking about. Hell, Styik and Spock did not even know what she was currently referring to, yet, the toddler was laughing, almost hysterically.
This caused Styik to laugh at Sytar's reaction and Nyota to enter a whole new flurry of laughter. Spock watched her affectionately. Anyone who might have been looking at him at the moment would have seen sheer love and pure devotion at its deepest. Only the children were looking at him, though. Then, when Nyota realized that they were looking at him, she looked at him. She saw it too. Her laughter faded. She didn't deserve that look. She cleared her throat and said, "After Sytar finishes his cake, we should go back to the room." Spock's expression cleared and he nodded. He stood to collect the trays from the table and put them away.
By the time that Spock reentered their quarters, Nyota was laying down with the boys. He had been called to the bridge for assistance, and had stayed away for longer than he expected. Styik and Sytar were spooned together and Nyota was spooned around the two of them, but she was not asleep. Sanaa was laying behind her, facing the opposite direction, as she generally did. Usually, Spock was on the other side of her, and she was facing him as they slept, but not touching him. Sanaa was particular about too much contact. Some of the humans referred to her as a "mean baby", but Spock adored her for her ways. She was part Vulcan, after all.
Nyota turned when she heard the door open. She gently removed her arm from around the boys and looked at Spock as he approached the bed. He touched both boys' cheeks, but said nothing and he did not look at her. He rose from kneeling next to the bed and walked around to the other side to give his daughter a kiss on the cheek. He and his wife stared at each other for a moment before she gently patted a spot on the bed next to her. Spock seated himself in the indicated spot. Nyota joined him, in seating with her feet hanging from the bed. "I am sorry about how I have been behaving, Spock. I think that I may need counseling, but I don't know if... I don't know how to classify what happened." She offered, with tears forming in her eyes.
Spock merely kept looking at her, in case she was not finished speaking. She seemed to be finished and she seemed to await a response from him, therefore he replied, "You have suffered from an exceptionally traumatic experience, Nyota. Human mentality indicates that your actions have been in line with the action of a significant percentage of humans, had they been involved in the same experience."
"And I suppose that your Vulcan mentality is above such a traumatic event?" She asked in an accusatory tone.
"I do not intend to exchange insults with you." Spock stated, afraid that he was upsetting her. He turned to stare out ahead of him.
She watched him and asked, "Is there something that you wish to say to me, Spock?"
He had been trying to get her to speak, to express her feelings, as he knew that it was a human method of coping, of recovery, but it was not his method. he answered, "I believe that at this point, there are no words to rectify the situation. My speaking on the matter would prove futile."
"It might help me. My human mentality might need it, Spock." Nyota said, trying to keep herself together as she admitted these things. It was the most that she had said in weeks about the situation.
"You are free to speak, Nyota." He informed her.
Her whisper came out in a snapping tone, "I need to hear you speak. I need you to tell me what you are thinking. How do you feel about everything?"
"My feelings have no relevance in the matter. I would prefer that you attempt to sleep. I shall not disturb you." he was speaking calmly, but she knew that he was hurting. He was hurt. It softened her heart, for a moment.
"Will you sleep in the bed with us?" She asked.
"I will do as you ask of me, at this point." He said.
"The boys have been worried about the fact that you have not been sleeping here, and Sanaa never worries, but she seems like she has been, too. Perhaps it would help to soothe them if you slept here."
She climbed back into the bed and Spock removed his boots and climbed in, as well. He laid down, flat on his back with his fingers intertwined, except for the pointer fingers, which touched at the tips and faced upward. She sighed and said,"I am trying to reach out to you. I want things to become right between us. I know that you are not responsible, and I am not trying to hold you responsible. I am trying to get past this." Spock turned to face her and studied her face. There was something that she was hiding from him, and he did not know what it was, but he knew that she had no intention of sharing it with him.
"Nyota, I wish that you could feel comfort when you look at me. Not too long ago, you would look at me and see your bond mate, your husband, your friend, your... hero. Now, when you look at me, you see something else. You see someone who caused you pain and it comes forth through your eyes. You do not trust me, and you are keeping something hidden from me. Tell me."
"What, I have to talk, but you do not?" She hissed, trying to keep her voice a whisper. He did not answer the question. He wished that he could speak to her about this, but it hurt far too much for his mind to form words to express it. She spoke again, "I don't know how I am going to get over this, Spock. I do not know if I can ever look at you and see what I used to see anymore." After she said it, she felt her heart break. She had been trying to suppress the fact, and wanted to keep it inside, hoping that once she was over the situation, the feeling would go away and Spock need never to know that she had even ever felt that way. Now, she had spoken it.
Spock simply looked at her. He did not react. He did not even wince. He said, "I presumed that your line of thinking was in that area."
"How do you feel, Spock?" She asked.
He shook his head and said, "I shall not discuss it."
"Why not?" She asked, no longer whispering, but more like whimpering. it killed her to sound so fragile. It killed him to hear her sound that way.
"Nyota, if you are not careful, you will wake our children." He said.
"You liked it, didn't you? That is why you will not talk to me about it, because you don't want to admit that you liked it! I knew that you liked it. I could tell when you were doing it. You enjoyed violating me!" She snapped as she returned to a whisper.
Spock sighed and replied, painfully, "Nyota, if convincing yourself of such a thing makes you more comfortable about how you have been feeling towards me, I will not try to make you see reason." She struck him, across his face.
Now, Spock winced. She had hit him in the face, with her hand. She had attacked him, for no reason, other than misplaced resentment. Now, Styik arose. Nyota did not notice him as she swung her hand at Spock again, but he caught her by her wrists. "Nyota..." He said her name gently, but almost in a plea. He could not take the thought of her wishing to hurt him. He never wished to hurt her. She began to struggle with him, seemingly maddened, at the moment. He pressed her firmly against the bed and repeated, "Nyota, please..."
"Get off of me! Get off of me! Don't touch me!" She began to yell. Spock saw the images in her mind. As far as she was convinced, they were not in the room with their children. They were back on that planet, and he was hurting her.
Styik reached over and touched Spock's head. Spock let out a groan and fell off of the bed. Nyota yelped in shock, as she realized where she was, again. She crawled over to Styik and he held her in his arms. Spock stood up and looked at them.
"I was not attacking her. I was attempting to restrain her, to reason with her, Son." He told Styik. Now, Sytar was sitting up as well, but Sanaa stayed in the same position she had been in.
Styik kept a palm lifted towards Spock as he said, "I understand, Father, however, Mother does not currently seem susceptible to reason. I think that it would be best for everyone tonight, if you left. I will take care of her." He flinched after he said it and he and Nyota looked at each other. They were there. This was Arev's vision. Styik stroked Nyota's hair and whispered, "It will be alright. I am here, Mother."
Spock took another look at Nyota. She was trembling and crying. He hated the sight of her in that way. If only she would allow him to touch her... but Styik was correct. She was not in her right mind at the moment. Touching her at all would only make things worse, at this time, if such a thing was now possible. Spock looked at Styik. He was trying to be strong, but Spock knew that this hurt him more than it did either of them. He also looked at Sytar. The toddler's eyes were damp, but he was not crying, not yet. Sanaa was either still asleep, or feigning sleep to avoid what must have sounded like to her an emotional situation.
"Leave!" Nyota practically screamed at Spock. He nodded and turned to leave the room. "Take your things with you." She said. Spock paused and turned to look at her and almost attempted to read her. She was upset. Surely she did not mean this. He did not force himself into her mind, though. At this point, it would have made matters even worse.
He found his voice to say, "I shall return for them when you are not nearly as upset."
She picked herself up from the floor and screamed, "You shall take them now!" Styik grabbed her hand, to try to calm her, but she jerked away from him and headed towards the bathroom. "When I come out of this room, I want you and your things out!" She went into the bathroom, shut the door and ran water in the tub. She looked in the mirror at herself and could not fight the urge to slam her fist into the mirror, with a grunt. The mirror shattered and her fist bled, but she hardly paid any attention to it as she lowered her head to cry.
