Spock nearly dove into his room. "Computer, lock door," he said, leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor. He shivered, even though the room was hot. "Computer, heat to 65 Fahrenheit." He mumbled.
Spock crossed his legs at the ankle, placing both arms over the knee and leaning forward. He was about as close to the fetal position as he had been since before he was born.
Spock shivered again, now the stupid room was to cold. With a sudden burst of inspiration, he looked up and said. "Computer, change temperature to the average room temperature of Doctor Leonard H. McCoy's room."
The computer beeped its response and the room changed to a much more comfortable level.
Spock leaned back over, placing his head in the crook of his right arm he sighed. He was finding it much more difficult to contain his emotion than usual. He felt all remnants of any control he once had slipping away.
He groaned. "Stupid McCoy, stupid body…. STUPID space anomaly." he sighed and letting himself slide onto the floor, feeling a little better.
But he honestly felt like crying, and that just made it worse.
Spock slowly got up, rubbing his sore eyes. He crawled over to his bed and collapsed, sliding his boots off. He sighed into his stupid blocky pillow.
"Computer…" He murmured. "Lights…off"
The Computer complied and the lights turned off. Spock was honestly tired. But he found it impossible to sleep.
He groaned again. Ever since the stupid anomaly had hit he had been unable to sleep. And through his sleep deprived mind he managed to realize why.
He was unable to meditate.
He had become so dependant on meditating every night, chasing away those dark emotions that clouded his mind. And now…. McCoy was a human; he wouldn't have the physical capabilities to meditate as Spock knew he had to.
Spock decided enough was enough, so he rolled over.
And cried.