Chapter Three : The Vulcan Boogeyman
'My name is Spock.' It was not logical to keep repeating his own name over and over in his mind, yet the more the human adolescent — Claire — remained on the ship, the more he sought to prove that he was not who she claimed he was. 'I am not Sylar, my name is Spock'. Every time she walked past him, Spock could sense her fear and anger toward him. He could see her clench her fists and tighten her jaw the moment he set his eyes on her. One part of him simply watched Claire in curiosity, wondering why she addressed him in a way that brought such malice in her being, while a smaller, more human part of him was amused that he could stagger a human just by his mere existence. What Spock didn't appreciate, however, was the spread of rumors about him.
While it was not the first time he was the subject of such emotional exchanges, Spock usually kept his distance and did nothing to prove or deny the rumors about him, standing by to let humans or other emotionally driven people to do whatever they pleased. As long as it didn't interfere with his work, then he could care less about what they said about him. He learned that lesson long ago during his youth. Yet, if a rumor were to interrupt his work efficacy and reputation, then there would be an issue. And right now, Spock has to deal with a rather large one. At some point within the last week, Claire managed to get busy with her words, spreading false tales about his 'real name' being Sylar and how he has 'murdered hundreds of people just to get their abilities'. As absurd as it was through his own ears, Spock was rather baffled to find that the moment he walked out of his quarters early one morning, crewmen were either glaring or looking away in fright. It wasn't until he managed to hear whispers of the rumors from several nearby crewmen that Spock realized what had happened.
Spock's amusement from earlier depleted at the instant.
By the time he arrived on the bridge, Claire was already there, speaking happily to the Captain as well as other members of staff. Once his presence was made, silence enveloped the room, with the young woman slicing his calm exterior through a hateful gaze and Jim smiling warmly in welcome, for apparently the rumors have not reached the man's notice just yet. Spock crosses the room, avoiding Claire as much as he could, having been told of the horrors she has with him directly per Jim's careful words of warning, before arriving at his station. The moment he sat down, Spock took the time to secure his attention on the device in front of him, his thoughts settled, and emotions dimmed. The talking began again, only this time in a quiet murmur. He catches Uhura walking past him, and he attempts to lock eyes with her, but even she refuses to acknowledge him. Spock did most of his power to not flinch at the cold shoulder. Isolation was a feeling he knew the best, though he didn't ever think that it would recur on a ship consisting of people he called his 'friends'.
Tick tick… tick. Tick tick… tick.
His ear twitched, honing in on the noise. What was that? It was loud, then soft, blaring in his ear drums but too far away to tell what it was. As unusual as it sounded, it was irregular. It… annoyed Spock. How could a ticking sound cause him such displeasure? While it wasn't the first time he has dealt with things that are in need of fixing that he could easily resolve, hence his scientific expertise, this is the first where it was just ticking. Tick tick… tick. There it goes, a little too late. How can he focus on his work if this irritating sound is going to distract him? Turning, Spock gazed around the room, drowning out all remaining sounds to focus on the one. Bouncing brown eyes continued until they landed on Claire. His eyes dropped to a small item within her hand, hearing it clearer than ever.
"It is a minute and twenty seconds late," his voice interrupted before he could stop himself, enveloping them in silence. Spock stood and crossed the room, standing before the girl, aware of how she tensed. Though, if Spock weren't so distracted, he would have wondered more thoroughly.
"And how the hell can you know that?" Kirk asked in exasperation. "She just popped in a new battery a second ago."
"I can hear it."
"Yeah, with those ears—"
"No," he shook his head, his interest remaining on the old rusted watch that had clearly seen some better days. "This is different. My heightened senses would not have captured such a miniscule noise from across the room, nor would I be able to determine that—" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "That one of the gears is bent, preventing the hands from moving accordingly. Most likely, it has occurred during its lasting duration over the years. It slows every three seconds, and soon it will stop completely."
Kirk released a surprised huff. "Well, I never pegged you to recognize that kind of stuff. That's some talent, Spock. Claire, why don't you take it down to Scotty? He might have some tools to fix it for Bones."
Oddly, having someone else doing such a task when he obviously had a superior understanding of the problem irked the Vulcan. "Actually, may I have an attempt at fixing it?"
Claire narrowed her own eyes before stiffly dropping it into his palm, careful not to touch his fingers. Spock immediately went to work. Holding it up to his ear, he heard the recognizable sounds of Tick tick… tick more clearly, hearing the slight bump of the crooked gear as his thoughts began to imagine the best way to reassemble it. Once he was certain, the Vulcan pried the back cover off and delicately meddled with the inner workings of the ancient item, feeling confused to be performing such a feat but awed when the basic understanding of it formed in his thoughts. After a minute, the cover was closed back up, and he was satisfied with the end result.
Tick tick tick, as it should be.
When Spock looked up, he was met with two pairs of eyes, one apprehensive and the other in surprise, instantly wiping away any trace of pride within himself. Instead of questioning it, he handed over the watch. Only Jim took it instead with a large smile.
"If you weren't a scientist, you would have made a great watchmaker back in the day," the man commented happily. "How did you do that?"
Spock tilted his head. "I do not know," he said truthfully. "I had no prior knowledge of watches before this. My mother always mentioned some interests in them from her own father, who was a watchmaker from a place called Queens—" Claire straightened at attention, almost in alert. "—but I was not one to pay such attention to an illogical hobby when we have technology to supply our time." His eyes dropped to the watch again, staring almost longingly as the gears smoothly shifted in perfect synchronization as his internal clock. "Though I now admit, to be able to understand and fix something that I previously had no interest in is certainly enlightening. Now I understand my mother's fascination with it. Doctor McCoy is a fortunate man to be responsible for such a lovely relic. Our times have no use for them anymore, though that is what makes it all the more special, I suppose."
"That was his first power."
Spock looked at the girl, who had tensed into an impossible degree, as if the Vulcan would go out and attack her at any moment. He raised an eyebrow, curious. "Like your ability with regeneration, but who is it that you refer to?" Spock had no idea why he asked. They all knew who it was.
Claire gulped nevertheless, answering quietly in a hiss. "Sylar." Spock straightened, thinking deeply as she continued to explain. "That's what began his path of murdering everyone to get their power. It was his Hunger, the want to take in order to have. That power is what started all of this, which ruined my life and took everyone else's." She shook her head, taking a step back. "You're just like him."
He finally settled on one thought above the rest. 'It is unlikely that I am related to a man from nearly two centuries ago, much less obtain his ability considering he was human and I am part Vulcan. Even so, the possibility of having an ability to understand and fix situations that I could not previously comprehend before now is within arm's reach.' Spock's eyes cut to her, feeling at peace with this new discovery. "Sylar had lost control, a most human consequence. Of course, I am not human, nor am I him. If what you say is true, that me obtaining his power is possible, then it is truly not necessarily wrong." He took a step toward her, suddenly feeling larger than life. "I have an opportunity to learn now, to observe facts that people of my species or anyone else could not before." Another step closer as she stepped back. "Sylar was a killer, but I am not. I can prove to you with this power."
"You'll follow in his footsteps," Claire coldly added.
Spock shook his head. "No, I will not. If Sylar managed to make amends and peace within himself to live life and start a family, birthing my own mother, then I can certainly do the same without the necessities of violence." A small quirk of his lips appeared, causing her to clamp her mouth shut, and he whispered quietly only for her to hear. "No amount of rumors will stop me from achieving success, and neither will you, Claire Bennet."
Claire widened her eyes just as he pulled away, reappearing beside Jim, who stared at him with slight worry. "If you have a superpower, which is totally freaking cool by the way, I will need to keep a closer tab on you," Jim murmured quietly so others wouldn't eavesdrop. "If what she says is true…"
Spock understood what he meant. "I can assure you, Captain, that I am far more capable of controlling my thoughts and desires than a human. This changes nothing. I remain who I am."
Jim nodded. "But let me know if you're not feeling like yourself. I don't want to lose my First Officer from tinkering with clocks. It'll look bad on record."
Spock dipped his head, not getting the joke. "Yes, sir."
Kirk stood from the seat, lifting his arms over his head with a big yawn. "Speaking of record, our mission before Claire arrived continues. Talos III is still in need of a representative for dilithium exchange, and we should be there in about an hour-ish. You have the conn while I round up the troops, give them the run down. If all goes well, we will be getting a little kick for the Enterprise and for neighboring systems as well. If not," he shrugged, turning away to the turbolift. "Guess you'll just have to come down and rescue us then."
Spock slowly turned to face Claire after he left, raising a mocking eyebrow, as if rubbing his superiority in her face, only she seethed on the spot, nearly shaking with the amount of rage. Fists clenched at her sides, and she spoke through gritted teeth. "Can I talk to you… privately?"
A sinister sensation rolled through his body when he sat on the chair, crossing one leg over his knee. "I do apologize, Ms. Bennet, but I have much work to do. Why do you not return to your childish antics and play with those rumors you have spread about me?" His smirk appeared when her eyes went ablaze. "Or, perhaps, you would rather go down to the gymnasium and begin your cheerleading practice, hm?"
Abruptly, Claire lunged forward in a pit of rage, once again aiming for his ears. Only Spock saw the attack coming and caught her by the wrists. Standing once more, he prevented her from moving as she struggled to get away from his grip. His hands yanked her closer, growling softly. "Enough with this. You attempt to ruin me, at least do so when you are not likely to be overcome with emotion," Spock warned, making her pause and glare at him. "I have had it with you. You wish to confront me, then do it properly. Otherwise, do not waste my time. It is pathetic."
A glob of spit flung into his face was all the response he was given. A collective gasp murmured throughout the bridge.
Spock grabbed her by the shoulder to wipe his face off, expression twitching with suppressed agitation. "You wish to act like a child, then you shall be treated as one," he declared, harshly leading her to the turbolift. "I will escort you to your quarters, where you will be confined until there is a method to take you back home. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn—"
"You can't do this, you can't!" Claire squirmed like a wild animal, shouting and flinging her arms, sending punches and kicks, which he all endured. She reached out to the bridge when he didn't budge. "Guys, you can't let him do this. You need my help! Don't let this psycho take me!"
"Commander, maybe it might be best to let the Captain handle this," Sulu piped up, anxiously looking between her and Spock, as if not knowing whose side he should defend. The Commander narrowed his eyes, not believing that it only took one week for this measly child to convince three years' worth of connections to not mean anything. How easy it was for everyone to believe that Spock was capable of being like 'Sylar' rather than others seeing how illogical that would make him. This was not how a ship would run. This was not how a crew is supposed to operate! Everything was wrong, incorrect, broken. It was in need of realignment, and the one way to do that was to deal with the origin of his problems.
Spock clamped onto her neck and pinched, watching her drop down onto the floor, out cold. He hauled Claire over his shoulder before looking back, his steely gaze attaching to the stiffly standing helmsman. "Captain Kirk put me in charge of Claire Bennet until she is free of our hands," he admitted to the others with no room for interruption. "Under my responsibility, she is not to act differently than any other civilized adolescent, so that is to say if she misbehaves, I have the authorization to apply proper punishment."
Sulu gave a slow, cautious nod before Spock left. It didn't take long for him to arrive at Claire's temporary quarters. After placing her onto the bed, Spock sat back on the chair beside it, immersing himself with his thoughts to analyze his emotions. A young adult. That was all it took, one young human adult to begin ruining his career right before his eyes. Was this how she behaved during her own time, like a person so determined to get their way and prove someone is terrible even if it might be some misunderstanding? Claire acts before she thinks, and it's costing Spock greatly. What did Sylar really do that caused her to behave so irrationally? He wanted to know, and there was not a single soul to stop him from sitting on the bed, placed his fingers over her face, and shut his eyes.
"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts," he murmured before his thoughts went dark. It took a moment of digging before he spotted flashes of Claire's memory, all connecting what had happened between the three years she had gotten her powers; since the moment she fell off a water tower in front of her childhood friend to leaping off a ferris wheel in New York, both instances to prove to everyone that people with abilities existed. Then, the memories dwelled deeper, going into depth of what her adoptive father did for a company rounding up those with abilities, her uncle who would do anything to save as much people as possible, her biological father who wanted nothing to do with her but died to protect the world, then her newest friend in college, the first one she has had in a long time. Then there was all the times Claire has been stabbed, burned, killed, maimed, buried, crushed, run over, shot, blown up, poisoned, amputated, manipulated, hurt, and many more things that someone with invincibility could endure, even if it destroyed her only sense of feeling between her and her body. With what made her human.
Then, there was Sylar.
Spock couldn't imagine how much rage this one figure could be connected to. Memories of a man who was a splitting image of himself, though with more human features, killing and tearing away all chances Claire had to have a real life. Thoughts of when she was a cheerleader manifested when Sylar hunted her down, then of a showdown when he surged to blow up the city, followed by more criminalizing things until she found out that Sylar may be related to her, but that soon turned out to be a lie by her grandmother. Sylar fought with his emotions, killed because he wanted to be special and be more. He had taken her ability, ripping open her skull and to rummage around her brain, essentially violating her privacy and most vulnerable state. Claire's thoughts shift to when she learned he killed her biological father, the desire to murder the man who did so, only to be shocked when he visited her college looking for nothing but answers to his questions and explain once more that they were more alike than either of them would care to admit. They are the same, with high expectations from their parents only for them to be abandoned, not wanting to be alone for they will outlive everyone they know, for understanding that they were forced into the roles they became even when they wanted something different.
Spock knows this all too well.
But he understands now as he pulls out of her thoughts, why Claire is so cautious around him. What Sylar did was unforgivable, more so scarring to a teenager, but what he did was also what he thought to be what he needed. Spock relates to it: his own father, Sarek, puts too much expectation on him while also not giving him a chance, and all Spock wants is to make him proud. His mother is gone, but she always sought greatness in him, but what will she say now that he has crossed an impasse of regret and guilt? The crew of the Enterprise want him to connect with them, to be more human and more likable, but Spock will never be that. More importantly, as a Vulcan, he will outlive everyone he has grown to care about, but as half human, he won't survive as long as his people. Sylar has a motive for killing, for taking people's powers — it's so he can finally have something to live up to and make him feel worthy and special. Claire's motive for fighting is to stop people like Sylar from hurting others for personal gain, even when she has her own vendetta against him. And Spock, his motive connects to both, in some ways more than others.
His hand does not remove itself from Claire's face as he thinks. His motive is to protect, yes, but the chance to do so while also fulfilling his father's pride and his mother's expectations would also be rewarding. The crew will also see how capable he is in handling the most difficult situations, his Vulcan people will recognize all the hard work he has done over the years, finally showing them that he's not some half breed freak of nature, and he shouldn't be outcasted. No, he will show them all in due time. Spock dropped his gaze, softly caressing the young woman's head without much thought, thinking about the issues swarming her mind and causing her to act out of aggression rather than logic. It's so easy to fix, really, but he was also curious about other things that made her react abnormally. His fingers twitched at the side of her face — it'll only take a moment to see, just to observe and repair. It was just like McCoy's watch. It'll be fast and worth the effort.
'I am nothing like Sylar', Spock thought as his eyes shut again, though this time it was different from a mind meld. 'Vulcans do not have the Boogeyman.'
TBC…
