Nyota sat silently for the rest of the evening. She looked alternately upset and contemplative, but she remained on her perch on the sofa. Spock tried to talk to her, but she refused, so eventually he gave up and read though the rest of the news.
When he went to change into his pyjamas, Nyota was waiting for him. She was sitting on the bed, cross-legged in a short night dress. When he walked in, she got up and kissed him. Spock felt her arms clamp around his back as she started kissing him more heavily.
There had been a time, right after the attack that Spock had wanted to sleep with her. It had been a deep, twisted biological desire to rid her of Nero's stuff that he had desperately tried to purge from his mind. But now, he didn't really want to. Not after what had happened. Not with the state she was in. He pushed her away, still holding one hand.
"Are you sure you are ready for this?" he whispered over the link, and fear seeped back. It was a strange, jumbled fear. Fear of the act. Fear of rejection. It was a minute before he understood. She was afraid that he would sleep with her, but she was more afraid he wouldn't.
He tried to tell her that it was okay, that he would wait until she was ready. She sent back a pang of frustration. No, it wasn't okay at all. It would be okay if it was a sacrifice. But he didn't even want her.
He felt a cloud of despair well up inside her, and then a flash of desperation. This couldn't be going south like this. It had to work. It had to make him want her again. She had to show him that he could still love her, that she was still good. It was that desperation that kept Spock from pulling away completely.
As he drew her closer and put his arms around her, her fears began subside. Her body was warm and comforting against his, and it had been so long since he had held her like this. Spock savoured the feeling, and for a single, foolish instant, he thought it might be okay, that this might be the beginning of working things out. But then he looked into her mind and saw how cool and mechanical it was—she wasn't ardent or even affectionate. She didn't want show him how she felt. She wanted to prove something.
Although he didn't like to do it, Spock tried to block. He couldn't let her see how disturbed he was by her seeing pleasing him as a chore. But he couldn't stop now, even though the block he could feel that she was terrified of being rejected. Spock decided that it would be best if he just tried to get it over with quickly.
Strengthening his mental guards, Spock pulled off her nightdress and looked at her body. Dr. McCoy had removed every blemish, but there were still signs. She hadn't been eating properly and was a lot thinner than she'd been before the attack. There was a bruise on her leg from when she'd tripped over a console while not paying attention on the bridge.
Stifling the thought, Spock pulled her closer and ran his hands across her body, willing himself to get aroused. But the skin contact strengthened the link, letting him see her fear, her anger, her shame. He broke his touch and prompted her to help him undress.
She started by unbuttoning his shirt, which went fine, but as she worked at his belt, she was terrified. He didn't need the link to know this. She was shaking. He tried to put a finger to her temple, but she pulled it away. Finally, she got the belt off and removed his pants in one long jerk.
Cautiously, courageously, she stepped towards him and put her arms around him. The link opened again, and Spock felt himself be flooded with anxiety and fear. But it wasn't this that bothered Spock, it was what was beneath it. She was naked and in his arms, but she was thinking of him.
Spock felt an anger that he couldn't hold back. He let it gush through her. He felt sadness leak back, and worse, a stark, stabbing feeling of inadequacy. She didn't think she was good enough for him anymore. The feeling pierced Spock to his very being. He couldn't let her feel like that.
He lifted her up gently in his arms and put her on the bed. He kissed her and stroked her cheeks softly, slowly pulling her close, but as he moved to hover over her, fear began to waft across the link. He tried to pull back, but she kept her arms clamped around him.
"Please," she whispered out loud, and once again, he felt her grating desperation.
Trying to ignore her feelings, trying to keep going, Spock moved closer. Out of habit, he scanned her naked body, having always liked to to admire it before he took it. But the way she was sprawled made him think of her sprawled on the floor of Nero's ship, and Spock felt a sickness rise in his stomach. He froze for a minute before he managed to purge it from his mind.
More carefully now, trying to to look at her, Spock moved his body against hers. But the more he touched her, the more of her mind he could see, and the more piercing her fear was. He couldn't get aroused. Eventually kneeled upright, breaking the link and stroking his manhood in his hand.
As he hardened, an image of Nero doing the same thing flashed into his mind. His slow, wicked tone as he taunted them. His wild grin as he shoved Nyota to the floor.
Trying to shake the thought, Spock resumed the link with Nyota, and from her fear, he could tell she had experienced the same thing. Hoping to distract her, Spock tried to be gentle, tried to be different. He kissed her and caressed her breasts and spread her legs with long, feathery touches. A film formed over her fear and Spock thought she might be ready. Slowly, he positioned himself and bore down. He felt her softness envelope him.
It was a few seconds later that she began to panic. It was a sheer, searing panic, accompanied by gasps and shaking. She started crying. She screamed.
Quickly, he wrapped her in a blanket and sat her upright. He touched her forehead, and she seemed slightly calmer, but he could still only tolerate the feeling for a few seconds before he had to break away.
Spock had read somewhere that feeding a panicked person something sweet could help calm them down, so he got a soda from the kitchen. He wasn't sure if it was the sweetness or the distraction of drinking something, but she calmed down somewhat. When she was done, he sat down next to her and put his arms around her. She started sobbing.
"You don't want me anymore do you?" she cried. Spock didn't reply, and let the fact that he was still sitting there with his arms around her do the talking.
"I tried to be good for you ..." she whispered, trailing off before being wracked with a new series of sobs, "I just feel so useless."
"I just want everything to back to the way it was," she whispered, "But it's so hard."
Spock didn't try to say that it was okay because they both knew it wasn't.
A/N: Sorry for the late update, I've been travelling and working on a new S/U fic Sunset.
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