Chapter 4: Inertia

Spock's shift had ended...it was now late at night- or what was set as night on the starship, anyhow. In space, there was no night and day, but humans needed some semblance of normalcy and insisted on having the ship set to Terran hours.

He knew Nyota would be asleep...yet, he felt a desire to see her. He had not checked on her since the night before, as his duties had prevented him from it. Even though it was no longer comfortable to be with her due to the tension between them, he must see her, to know that she was well.

He realized that he missed her. He wished- although it was illogical to wish- that their situation was as it had been before Scorpius Three. When there had been no injuries, no guilt, no shame...nothing but love and desire.

Spock decided that he would stop by her quarters to see if she was awake. He ached to see her...he could not explain why. Even if she was still angry with him, he wanted to see her.

He thought of his father's advice as he walked toward Nyota's door. He must talk to her, tell her how he felt, ask what she needed...could it wait two more weeks? He wanted to wait because, if the doctor thought she was ready to return to her duties at that time, did that not also mean she would be well enough to discuss it with him? If he waited two more weeks, he could read the incident report and would not have to force Nyota to tell him what had happened...

But what if she was ready to discuss it now? If she was, the question was now...was he ready to hear it?

He was afraid to know what had happened to her. Afraid of the images it may cultivate in his mind if he knew the details. Afraid of another loss of control. Afraid of knowing what had befallen his ashayam. Was this the real reason he was reluctant to broach the subject now?

Spock paused, confused. His logic was flawed...it had been flawed for days. It seemed his loss of control had affected him more than he had originally thought. Was there a logical reason for his not visiting her in medical? Was there a logical reason for his not following his father's advice of the week before? He was confused...he had thought he was being logical at the time. But now that he thought back on it, he realized he had not made a single logical decision in many days. His motivations had all been emotional. He had not visited her in sickbay because it would have caused turmoil within him...he did not follow his father's directions because he was afraid. He had masked his true intentions with logic that was mediocre at best.

He was now standing before Nyota's door. Should he go in, or should he go to his own quarters? He must meditate...he had not properly meditated in almost two weeks. Perhaps this was why he could not think clearly, why he was not functioning logically.

He listened for movements within her quarters. He heard her moving around, shifting something...and before he could force himself to leave, he made one last illogical decision, and reached out to press the buzzer.

"Come in." she called, and he entered. She was standing before the closet, organizing her various pairs of boots. She wore a silk camisole and short shorts, which showed off her long, light brown legs. He did not allow himself to look at them as he spoke.

"Do you require anything before I retire to meditate?" he asked. She looked at him over her shoulder.

"No." she replied, her tone flat. She turned back to shut her closet. Spock watched her, wanting nothing more than to comfort her, soothe away her pain. He knew she was hurt by his decisions, his behavior. Now that he realized how illogical he had been acting, he was unsure of how to rectify the situation. Should he follow his father's advice now instead of later? Could he afford to put it off any longer? She had been increasingly upset with him over the last week...

"Nyota..." he said so softly, so tenderly, that she turned to him.

"What is it? Did you come just to be here ten minutes and hardly say anything at all, like every other night of the past week?" she asked sharply. "Or did you have a logical reason?"

The biting tone of her voice stung him.

"I wanted to see you." he replied in a low voice. Her features softened minutely.

"I...well..." she trailed off, and turned to the straighten the covers on the bed, even though it was not needed. He wondered if he had disturbed her somehow. "That's...thoughtful of you."

He was not sure he understood what that meant, but she was not angry with him, which he took to be a good sign.

"I was starting to think you didn't even want to see me anymore." Nyota said, her back still turned to him. As she moved, her hair fell over her shoulder, revealing several still-healing bruises and the remnants of lacerations. Spock's eyes closed as he struggled not to think of what had made them. "And that's probably the most truthful thing you've said to me since I got back." she added, standing and moving her hair back over her shoulders, covering the wounds.

"I am...unsure of why my behavior has been so..."

"Peculiar?" Nyota finished, turning back to him, her hands resting on her hips. "Spock, you haven't been yourself. I know something is wrong with you."

"I am merely trying to do what is best for you. But I am...unsure what you need of me."

Nyota looked upon him, her eyes sad. "So that's why you haven't even touched me? Why you haven't even talked about what happened?"

"You did not allow me to touch you." Spock replied. "As for what happened...neither of us are ready for that discussion."

"I didn't let you touch me the first night because I was still angry. You didn't even try again, and it's been a week." Nyota said, anger starting to creep back into her tone. "And I am ready to talk about it!"

"I am not." Spock replied. There was a silence. "And judging by your tone, neither are you, even if you believe you are."

"Don't you tell me what I'm ready for!" Nyota said indignantly. "Spock, I want us to be like we were before, but you're not letting me! Every time I try, you just...brush it off! I was ready to tell you everything on that second night, but you just sat there and didn't say anything! What's worse, you don't have a logical reason for any of it! You have no idea what I went through, how much I wanted you during all of it! I would probably still be down there if I hadn't had you as motivation! If I had known that you would avoid me when I got back, I would have been glad to stay on that planet and let them whip me to death!"

Spock did not visibly flinch- but he did on the inside. He had suspected, of course, that the lacerations were results of a whipping, but part of him had refused to believe it until it was confirmed. The fact that she had, indeed, been whipped filled him with sorrow. But even this did not hurt him as much as her following words...

"I have tried so hard to keep you, Spock. I really have! I've tried to make things work, I've tried to understand you and accept your logic. I've tolerated it all! But...I can't do it any more! You're not willing to work on this relationship, that much has become obvious over the last week and a half. You didn't visit me in sickbay, for some bullshit reason that I know is a lie. Then when we're finally alone you act like you can't bear the sight of me! It's been the same for the last week...you come in, sit next to me for about ten minutes, ask if I need anything, and then you leave again! You're not even trying to help me! And now...when I make one last attempt to make everything right, you say you're not ready? You're not the one that was tied up in a hut and beaten with whips and poles, Spock! That was me. If anyone has a right to shrink from talking about it, I do! But I'm not shrinking from it, because I thought that you, of all people, would want to help me. Instead, you aren't ready to talk about it!"

Angry tears were gathering in her eyes, and she stood with her arms folded over her chest. Spock stood there silently, watching and listening, knowing that everything she said was the truth.

"You couldn't even just hold me, and tell me that you loved me, and reassure me that everything's going to be okay. That's all I wanted from you, and it wouldn't have been much of a challenge! I've waited and waited for you all week...not to change or become human, but to understand that sometimes I need reassurance! You were so ready to walk out on me over a month ago, because of duty. And I accepted it, didn't I? I accepted it for you. But now, after what's happened, I realize that I just can't do this any more! Our relationship has never been completely happy- there's always something in the way, which can't be resolved because of logic and the binding of your emotions! In the seven months we've been together you have never met me half-way, not once. I thought I could just go along with it...but then I woke up and realized that this isn't a fairy tale. We can't live happily ever after, because with a Vulcan, it's impossible! You're always going to put a higher priority on logic than on this relationship...and maybe it's selfish of me, but I can't stand it any more! You almost left me before because of logic...how do I know you won't in the future? No...it's best to just end this now, before we get even deeper and there's no turning back, and we'll both be miserable. I think it would be easier on both of us...just one less complication in our lives. And you won't be required to help me any more. You won't have to act human even for a second. I release you from your promise to be here for me...because you probably don't even understand what that means! You haven't been here for me at all during this whole thing."

Spock stared at her, his body rigid, something cold settling around his heart. No...she couldn't be...

"Nyota, I-"

"Just go, okay?" Nyota said, turning from him. "Just save us both the pain. I know you'll get over it- you'll just meditate and use logic, and eventually you'll agree that this is for the best. I...I don't need you to help me any more. I've gone without you for the last week, and it's made me realize I don't need you to get over this. I'm doing just fine on my own."

Spock stared at her back as she stood, folding a blanket with quick, agitated movements. His mind became full of things he should say to make her change her mind. But in the end...he simply turned back toward the door. Her voice stopped him just as he was leaving.

"You know what the funny thing is?" she said, her voice indicating that what was funny, certainly was not humorous. "I think you're more damaged by what happened to me than I am."

He looked at her for a few seconds longer, and then left.

____________________________________________________

Spock closed the door to his quarters and commanded the computer to lock it. Once he heard the faint click, he sat on the edge of his bed.

He had never felt so heavy in his life. He had no words for the deep pain that now filled him. He did not cry...the only time he had ever cried was after his mother had died, and Nyota had been the only witness...but he felt like he should be. He was greatly reminded of when he had almost left Starfleet now well over a month ago, when he had thought he would never see her again. But this...this was worse. The difference lay in the fact that it was Nyota who ended the relationship, and it was not because of duty...it was because of him. He had been a fool. He should have listened to his father, he should not have been so adamant that he must wait to take his advice. He had known Nyota was becoming agitated by his behavior. He should have known she would soon reach a breaking point.

Spock closed his eyes. There was a whole list of things he should or should not have done. It was not logical to go through them all...but he deserved the pain each item brought.

She had been truthful in everything she said. Their relationship had always been hampered by him...by his Vulcan ways. They had known all along it would be so. He had been confident that they would work through it together. But what worked in theory, often did not work in practice.

His past mistakes mattered little. It was the recent ones that changed everything. He had not been thinking clearly ever since Nyota's abduction, but this had not occurred to him until it was too late. How had he made himself think he was making logical decisions? Had his loss of control created imbalances in his hormones that impaired his judgment? It was certainly possible...he had read of such things occurring in Vulcans. Perhaps, later, he would visit medical and ask for a full scan...

Even if that was the cause, it did not change the effect. Through his neglect of her own comfort and by focusing on his own...all the while fooling himself into thinking he was looking after her own interests...he had lost her. It was not that he feared she was not ready to talk about what had happened, it had been his own fear of hearing it. Again, that realization had come too late. He had not wanted to leave that room, but her decision was final. He would not try to change her mind if this was what she desired. He had left.

Now, he had not only failed at protecting her from the natives, he had failed to protect her from himself.

_______________________________________________________________

Nyota sank down onto her bed, struggling for breath. A burning pain crept from her lungs to her throat, tears searing her eyes. She did not let them fall.

She had given him a week. A week to redeem himself...but he had not. Every night had been the same...no physical contact, limited conversations, and then he would leave and she would be left alone to ponder why she even bothered with him any more.

She had had a week to think about it. To fret over every little problem they had ever had, related to recent events or not. She had had a week to stew and it had built up, one frustration on top of another. And then she had let it loose all in one go...and not all of it had been about him. A lot of it had to do with what she had endured...she realized, dimly, that it had made her bitter.

If she had thought it would make her feel better, she had been wrong. She felt worse.

She had lied to him...she wasn't doing well on her own at all. Every night she awoke to nightmares full of cracking whips, the sound of a hollow pole against wet skin, and burning ghost pain. She needed him more than ever...and that is why she had to end it. He wasn't there for her. He hadn't tried to be. That hurt more than anything.

Had he thought that visiting her nightly was 'being there' for her? He had said he was unsure of what was needed of him...but surely he wasn't that clueless? They had been together for seven months, and had been friends for almost a year. Surely he knew her better than that?

Nyota drew her legs up against her chest and rested her cheek against her knees. Spock had been acting oddly ever since she returned. She wondered if it was related to his loss of control on Scorpius Three. Was this all simply because he was ashamed that she had seen him like that? Or was there something else?

She supposed she would never know now. She hadn't wanted to let him go, but in the end it was only...logical.

Their relationship had become too much to handle for the both of them. It demanded too much of him with his Vulcan disciplines, and it had taxed her emotional endurance to a breaking point. There was only so much frustration one could handle.

She thought back to that hut in the rain forest...to the men who tortured her. The memories were as sharp as ever, and so was the remembrance of her pain. She had called out for Spock, imagined that it was his voice that gave her encouragement as she escaped. That was the only part that seemed to be a long time ago. How could the man she had thought about during her darkest hours abandon her like he had?

She would miss him, she knew...but then again, she had missed him during the last week, and it hadn't killed her. In fact, she felt like they hadn't really been a couple for awhile now. She doubted her future would be any different than her past week had been.

So...if the termination of their relationship was so logical, so necessary, why did she feel like she had just made the biggest mistake of her life? Part of her wanted to chase after him, tell him to forget everything she had said...but the larger part of her brain bid her, very firmly, not to allow her resolve to weaken. He had left without a single word. He had not fought her decision. That was proof enough that he had never been willing to fight for their love. If he could allow it to end so easily, so could she.

A/N: I had some troubles getting this one out, and I'm not sure it turned out satisfactorily, but...I think the next two chapters will flow a little easier for me.

I think there's only two chapters left to this story. So it's poll time: Would you prefer that I end this one and start another fic separately, or should I just continue my writing on this story, using different story arcs? Whichever is easiest for you to read...

Also...I write this as it comes to me, so there may be certain details and whatnot from my earlier chapters that I've forgotten...so please let me know if I ever contradict myself or forget to tie up a loose end. I do try to listen to my feedback and add explanations for certain decisions I've made in my writing, so please keep that up. Don't be afraid to point stuff out or give me suggestions!