Chapter VIII - I can't let go
Having foreseen what his friends would say, he should have gotten better prepared. But even if that wasn't a shock, it was somewhat of a disappointment. That forced him to face the fact that everyone would move on, something he would never do. He couldn't move on. It was so strange, he was willing to continue with his life after Spock died, but now that he was alive, he wasn't able to just leave him there.
They were in a small study room. It was the first time that Kirk saw that room, which seemed to have been the place where young Spock received his training. Strangely, in the walls, beyond the traditional weapons Vulcans used to exhibit, there was a painting of the family. It wasn't as big as the rich Terran families exhibited in the past, but it was something he didn't expect of the Vulcans. Perhaps it had been suggested by Amanda. In the painting, Spock was just a baby, Sarek looked not much younger than when the first time they met Kirk and Amanda smiled as if at the time living in Vulcan had not yet eradicated many human behaviors of her.
He couldn't help imagining Spock when he was just a child, studying for most of the day in that room without any ornaments beyond that image and the weapons. Vulcan education was absolutely insane. He was taking his first steps as Spock was there starting his studies in quantum physics. From what moment he began to be pressured to abandon his human side? He knew that young children showed emotions before being instructed in the ways of logic. Since when Spock had to endure offenses due to the fact that he was a child of two worlds? In all the years they knew each other, he didn't know much about his childhood. The only time he remembered hearing Spock speak openly about it was when he finally decided to tell him everything that had happened in Tarsus IV. He always felt as if the information was provided as some kind of prize, or perhaps an attempt to reciprocate. Neither commented again about the horrors both experienced in youth, but this wasn't necessary, the past had been left behind.
It was Spock who guided him to that room. He was taking him to the garden as he did every day when he suddenly turned and came in this direction. When an adult Vulcan decides to go in one direction, there is nothing that a human can do to stop him involving less than a phaser, so he simply followed. That was why they were sitting on the floor of that room with Spock staring at the painting for what should have been at least two hours. Kirk felt as if he was internally screaming. Spock wasn't just accepting to be dragged from one side to another, he was choosing how he wanted to occupy his time. For all that Sarek spoke about the situation, he imagined that someone without a katra he wouldn't be able to make choices, so what does that mean? He would like to consult Sarek on this, but he feared he already knew the answer he would give. He would hear the tone as condescending even if it were actually something closer to pity, while Sarek repeated yet again that without his katra Spock wasn't able to think.
Kirk leaned his head on Spock's shoulder, knowing that his weight would be nothing to the Vulcan. "Spock..." he began hesitantly, "our friends are leaving in a few weeks, do you understand that? Uhura, Scotty, Chekov and Sulu will return to Earth, and they'll take Bones with them. They probably won't come back, but I wanted you to know that I'm staying with you. The biggest mistake of my life was to have accepted this damn promotion that took me away from you and the Enterprise. But nothing will get away from you now. I've told everyone I'll stay here with you for the rest of my life. Can you understand me?"
He waited for an answer or any kind of reaction for long moments, but his hopes were in vain. Spock was still staring at the painting, looking as if he didn't realize that Kirk was leaning on his shoulder. He fought back the tears he felt coming, and tried to comfort himself with the idea that Spock would say that it is illogical to cry for having received the result that was expected. "You're not even listening to me..." he said more to himself "Not really, you can't hear me... because... you can't hear me because you are dead, aren't you? I saw you die before my eyes, and even if you're here now, you're not really here." And then, as if realizing what he just said, he composed himself and completed "Sorry, Spock. I shouldn't have said that. It's just that... Why do I still keep doing this? It's not as if that made any difference. Just... I'm sorry. Let's just stay here and look at this painting if that's what you want, we'll just stay here. ".
He decided to shut up. Nothing he was saying made any sense. There was no reason to fight with Spock because he wasn't able to answer, and there was no need for apologies because he wasn't able to understand. Because he couldn't talk to him. He had been told this over and over again. He was digging his own grave and didn't know how to stop. He just knew he wasn't able to act as if Spock wasn't there somewhere. How to look into the eyes of someone he knew so well, and accept that person wasn't really there? Again, he returned to the idea of seeking the help of Spock 2, but he knew his plan was just an attempt to maintain hope. Even if he were still alive, which he didn't know if was true and wasn't probable, that wasn't the Spock he knew, or at least that wasn't the Spock he desperately wanted back. That was the Spock of the end of the first five-year mission, the Spock who didn't accept his humanity. He was closer to the Spock that said that he was ashamed of feeling love and that he would go through the ritual of kolinar than to the Spock that returned to him after having understood that there was more in the world than logic. But if even that hope was lost, what would be left?
