When did Spock really realize that he cared about the fate of James Tiberius Kirk? The first twinges of unwanted emotions began after the Captain had broken a highly important protocol of Starfleet to save Spock's life. Spock had submitted his own report of the volcano incident with complete faith that his Captain would submit an identical one—it was only logical.
Yet when had Jim Kirk ever been logical?
The look in those blue eyes, a look that could have only been described as hurt, when the Captain had realized that his first officer had submitted a report without notifying him to verify the details. Spock had always had an aversion to disappointment, and yet when had Kirk become someone that he did not want to disappoint? The Vulcan wasn't entirely sure when the shift had occurred, but somewhere deep inside of him a small niggle of unpleasant negativity made itself known at that look. Part of him had wanted to apologize, but a far greater part had insisted that it was only logical that he had submitted his own view of the proceedings.
After that the clipped tone and "cold shoulders", as the humans called them, had appeared. Kirk did have the tendency to be short when irritated, but it was unlike the man to be thus for so long a time. Alone one night in his room, Spock had come to the conclusion that he had unwittingly injured the Captain's feelings. The suspicion had been confirmed the next day when Kirk had fixed him with that piercing blue gaze outside the meeting of officers.
"Spock, do you understand why I went back for you?"
The Vulcan's mind had been racing. The Captain had disobeyed all orders to save his first officer, though Spock held the thought that had any crew member been in the same position Kirk would have done the same thing. The Captain was a rule-breaker, but he was staunchly loyal to his crew. The words of Spock Prime flashed through his brain.
I have been, and shall ever be, your friend.
Spock opened his mouth to answer his Captain. Was that why Kirk's face had collapsed into relief the moment he'd run into the transporter room to see his first officer standing befuddled but unharmed on the pad? Friendship? The word friendship indicated reciprocation by both parties; and yet Spock knew that had his Captain been down in the volcano he would have let Kirk die to preserve the innocence of the new species. The idea was a shockingly unpleasant one, and Spock felt a sensation that had been absent for a long while: shame. Evidently he had hesitated in his answer for too long, for the Captain had given a sigh and had gone on his way.
Why did Spock insist on calling him the Captain, for that matter? Kirk had been stripped of his command; his ship had been given back to commander Pike. By Starfleet regulations Kirk was no longer deemed a captain, and yet when he reminded Spock of that fact the Vulcan had needed to force the word "commander" from his lips to address the man. When thinking on it, Spock realized that the word "Captain" had become not only a term of address, but also a term of respect. Addressing the captain of the U.S.S. Bradbury by his title had not carried the same weight to Spock as speaking to Kirk did. Indeed Spock had felt a slight prickle of possession when using the title for the other man; "Captain" was a term that belonged to icy blue eyes and reckless behavior, to smirks and sarcastic retorts, not to strangers.
Sitting across from the Captain at the officers meeting had felt wrong to Spock; his given position should have been at Kirk's side. From Kirk's furrowed brow and uneasy glances at the man sitting on the side not occupied by Commander Pike, the Captain was feeling the same sense of displacement. The two men couldn't help but glance at one another every so often during the meeting, seeking assurance subconsciously from across the room.
Then all Hell had broken loose. Fire, screaming, bullets; Kirk and Spock had been separated in the fray. Unable to help his Captain, Spock had focused on the other person in the room who Kirk valued as much as himself: Commander Pike. Regrettably he had been unable to save the man from the bullets, and the illustrious Commander had died just before Jim had arrived.
James Tiberius Kirk was a strong man, full of bravado and daring that created the arrogant shell which most people were presented with. In that moment Spock had witnessed that shell crack for a moment; he had watched with discomfort as the Captain let out a shuddering sob and laid his head against the still chest of the man who had become a sort of surrogate parent to him. There had been tears in the Captain's eyes, and Spock had been seized with a desire to reach out and comfort the man, to erase the anguish which was so out of place on the normally confident face, but the shield had been back in place after only a moment of grief. That grief had later turned to anger, and Spock had watched with some trepidation as Admiral Marcus gave them their mission. The trepidation had been replaced with surprise when Kirk had requested that Spock be reinstated as his first officer.
Had Spock not just hurt the Captain's feelings? Had Kirk not just been disappointed with him for failing to reciprocate in the friendship that he had offered? Yet here he was insisting that Spock join him on this dangerous mission. Spock felt a rush of gratitude, and a small flush of pride; he was being given a second chance. Those not entirely unpleasant emotions had been erased, however, when Dr. Carol Marcus had appeared on board of that transporter ship. Who was this woman? Why did she deem it appropriate to sit between a Captain and his first officer? Could Kirk not see that she was lying about her identity?
The rebuff in engineering had not been appreciated either; Kirk had dismissed him mid-sentence, and Spock had gone—obeying orders even though a small flush of anger had begun to color his pale cheeks. What followed had been an absolute whirlwind of activity: the ship launching, the warp core getting a coolant leak, the arrival at the edge of the neutral zone. As Kirk had begun to brief the crew on his plans, he had turned to lock eyes with Spock. The blue gaze had been searching, and Spock had held it levelly until Jim had turned away again to tell the crew that they were going to capture Kahn, not kill him with the Admiral's weapons.
The rush of pride that had followed had taken Spock somewhat off-guard. He was proud of James Kirk for listening to his conscience; indeed Kirk had a strong inclination towards moral good, and that was part of what had convinced Spock to pin him with that badge of respect "Captain". He had followed Kirk onto the surface of Kronos willingly, he was proud to help his Captain with the mission, even if it meant confronting his prospective mate Ahura about his actions on the volcano mission.
Kahn had been taken into custody, but the snake had simultaneously saved and doomed the Enterprise in one fell swoop. Kirk's conscience was something to be proud of, but occasionally it could prove to be a weakness. Spock disliked Kahn, and the way he spoke to Kirk as if he knew the man personally; very few people were allowed to address the Captain that way. Ahura, Dr. Mccoy, Officer Scott, and Spock himself were allowed to call the captain by his first name, and insult him, and harry him, but not this strange creature. He'd had little time to think about it though, as Admiral Marcus had caught up to them mid-warp and had opened fire on the U.S.S. Enterprise. Jim's response had been immediate: he had submitted to Marcus in order to save the lives of his remaining crew. Once again Spock had felt a surge of proud loyalty, and by the faces of the rest of the crew on the bridge they felt it as well. That nobility had been lost on Admiral Marcus, who would have destroyed the ship had it not been for the timely arrival of Officer Scott.
The fact that Kirk was taking Kahn over to Admiral Marcus' ship had irritated Spock, though that irritation had abated when Kirk had presented the situation to him in a logical manner. It was only logical that in a situation as dire as this, the con of the Enterprise should go to the most experienced member, being the first officer. That logic was skewed somewhat by the fact that Jim had admitted that he was at a loss as to what needed to happen. Kirk never admitted he was wrong, never. That fact in itself made Spock uneasy, and the Vulcan had been struck with the desire to refuse the con and accompany his Captain in the space jump. Spock didn't trust Kahn, and he wished to protect his Captain, but in the end logic had won out.
It had been nerve racking sending Kirk over onto the Admiral's ship, but the communication call from Marcus had been absolutely terrifying. Of all the things to come up on that screen that Spock had anticipated, Kahn holding a gasping Jim captive had not been one of them. When he'd struck the Captain Spock had taken an involuntary step forward; the desire to help was overwhelming. He'd used all of his negotiating skills to convince Kahn that he was reluctant to surrender the torpedoes, and he'd succeeded in getting the captain back on board. That relief was short lived; however, as the power had failed and they had begun to plummet towards the surface of planet Earth below.
He couldn't go to the Captain, he had to remain on the bridge in order to complete evacuation sequences; his only hope was that someone somewhere would get Kirk off the ship in one of the transporters. The rest of the crew on the bridge had refused his orders to leave, and the mixture of both relief and annoyance had been baffling to him. He was surprised that their loyalty extended to him; he knew without a doubt that they would have stayed on the bridge with Kirk, but the fact that this extended to him as well was surprising.
The Vulcan had prepared himself for imminent death, but death had not come. Somehow the warp core had been realigned; the stunned faces of the crew had mirrored his own as they had sat bewildered on the bridge, what had happened? A call from engineering had sent Spock racing down the corridors though; Kirk had happened. Scott hadn't even needed to say his name, but the fact that Kirk had found a way to save his ship and remaining crew had not been a surprise to Spock. It was the way Officer Scott had said it which had sent him sprinting.
"You better get down here…better hurry."
Something had gone wrong, something was happening to Kirk. He'd thrown himself from the chair with all haste, and had pelted down the halls to engineering with reckless abandon only to skid to a stop at the sight of his Captain trapped behind the glass door. Officer Scott's face had been a mask of sorrow. Icy dread had clawed its way up the Vulcan's spine.
"Open it."
The order had been refused, and Spock had been forced to watch his Captain die from the other side of the door; separated only by glass but a world apart from one another. Kirk had looked up at him with those blue eyes, frightened and alone, and Spock had ached to comfort him. Gasping, Jim had asked him how he managed not to feel anything.
He was unable to answer; his feelings were a mess of horrible seething agony and anger. Sorrow fought with anguish and sent his normally clinical mind reeling as his friend, his friend, sat dying before his very eyes.
"I do not know; right now I am failing."
Kirk had placed his hand on the glass, begging for one last moment of contact, and Spock had accepted, matching their fingers into the time honored Vulcan farewell: live long and prosper. Blue eyes had met brown for a last moment before Kirk had slipped away from him. Spock's sorrow spiraled down into despair….
…and was reborn as anger. Biting gnawing primal stabbing fury. A desire for revenge and retribution, a desire to make Kahn pay for the murders he had committed. Kahn was going to pay for the life of James Tiberius Kirk, and Spock was going to make sure of it.
"KKKKAAAAAAHHHHNNN!"