Sand, Sky, and Space
If there was one thing for certain that remained from when he was a child, it was the fear of storms. It was illogical. How can one fear something that is simple in nature? But as Spock grew up in the plains of Vulcans desert dunes and forceful hot climates, he had to experience all forms of torment that his world had to offer.
His first ever experience with a sand storm was near the age of nine, a time when he had just begun preliminary education at a nearby facility. As per usual, Spock was tasked to do a minimalist routine considering his still young age, which was to walk from their family home to school where his mother would pick him up after study hours; Amanda Grayson was still iffy about letting her only son travel even remotely away from her line of sight at the beginning, but Sarek was quite convincing that the only way to teach their child responsibility and control over basic actions would benefit them in the future. The initial walk was not far, approximately fifteen standard minutes if he were to keep his stride quick and efficient, perhaps adding another five minutes if there were the rare delay. But Spock was nine years old, almost hitting the ten mark in a few months, he can't afford his parents to lose trust in him when he's already missed so much. An average Vulcan started school at age seven, but due to Spock's… human inabilities, it prevented him two years from learning with others to be homeschooled instead and now he was the youngest one in his primary class. His father mentions that being embarrassed over the fact was illogical, but he couldn't help but feel it. Still, Spock manages to keep his emotions at bay by sticking to routine, and that works out just fine.
Until it didn't.
It began as usual, the normal crisp morning of the Vulcan sunrise. Despite his home planet orbiting two suns, it still manages to get cold, which happens to be the worst hours of any day for him. Spock quickly changes into his learning robes, eats the breakfast his mother had prepared for him and leaves for school after exchanging a stiff hug with Amanda, doing nothing to Sarek as he had already left for work at the embassy an hour earlier. He hardly sees his father nowadays. Perhaps that's why he allows the embraces with his mother now — Spock ponders this until he makes it to school, where he focuses on the education at hand. He greets his peers as usual, something his mother tells him to do despite his reluctance, but they ignore him like a disease. Something squeezes in his little heart, but Spock puts it aside like every time.
Once lunch reaches, it is midday, about two more hours until Amanda comes for him. Spock is eating his Vulcan berries and a peanut butter with grape jelly sandwich, an Earth consumable his human mother was proud to introduce him to, before he was approached by two of his classmates, both of them almost towering over him due to the height difference. Without giving him much time to question, they tell him that they want to invite him to join an adventurous challenge that will prove their skills in survival, a task all Vulcan children will perform at the right age. Spock heistates. He thinks back to what his mother always tells him about trying to make friends, but also knowing when to trust others or not. Though, Stonn, the boy standing in front of him, did nothing to question certainty. Finally, Spock nods, packing away his food, unknowingly etching his first mistake in stone. Stonn and the other boy tell him that Spock should go first as the three of them sneak away from their instructor's gazes toward the nearby sand dunes where adults warned them of possible predators living in the sand. Spock pushes his internal warnings as he follows the older boys, attempting to elicit some conversation to pass the time. They tell him to quiet down, so he does.
When they stop, Stonn tells Spock that they will need materials to begin the challenge and will return to him in a short time. Spock does not question the fact that they could have gotten it beforehand as they had already left him alone. He sits down after a few minutes, waiting for the game to begin and already anticipating the wondrous times he will spend with his new friends. He can't wait to tell his mother, she will be so proud of him! So, Spock waits… and waits… and waits… And they never return. Anguish knocked on his mental shields, feeling fooled and ashamed for having believed an abomination like him could ever make friends. It was hours past when he was supposed to leave school. His mother must be worried. Spock stood with tears in his eyes, ready to return, only for his ears to twitch upright at the distant change of wind. He turns, squinting in the direction of the darkening Vulcan sky. Despite the darkness, Spock could still see a gigantic wall of sand barreling toward him, then every nerve and beat of his heart pulsed in a synchronized marathon.
The little Vulcan-human hybrid felt fear — he's never felt it before, but he was sure that's what it was — as he turned and sprinted, but his knowledge knew that there was no way to outrun nature itself. The dunes were not helping the cause by whipping dust and grains into his eyes, where even the second set of eyelids caused by evolution did nothing to protect against the building assault. With no cover, no way to see, and no one knowing where he was, Spock was swallowed up by the sand storm with a horrifying scream. Everything was so hard to recognize. He couldn't even tell what was in front of him before he stumbled forward, crashing onto a rock that appeared out of nowhere, and his vision went black.
When Spock came to, his head was hurting, and everything was still dark but smelled like sand. Without much thought, he screamed for his mother, hoping that she could hear and find him. But Spock knew it was futile, Amanda didn't even know he left the facility. Still, he kept hope, even when his throat went completely dry. Spock called continuously until the throb in his skull and the lack of oxygen was too much. However, just before he lost consciousness yet again, he heard a voice above him, followed by sounds of digging. Spock suddenly felt himself being yanked by two hands that felt like hooks into the crisp air of the night, his mother exclaiming loudly in relief as she hugged him tightly. All Spock remembers from that point were his own sobs and how the rest of the Vulcans looked at him in tension, like he was some freak. His father was beside them both, eyes and body showing nothing, not even sympathy or worry. Spock didn't know what he expected or how he would know what to think, but he knew he wanted more.
From that moment forward, Spock learned two very important things: how much he hated sand storms and how much he wanted to push Stonn off of the highest cliff Vulcan could provide. Of course, he could do nothing about either, so when the time came and a storm were to happen, Spock would immediately disappear under his bed at home, hands tightly pressing against his eyes, and wait until the event passed. I-Chaya, his pet sehlat, was kind enough to accompany him during his little fits of panic and burst of emotions in the very beginning. After his death, Spock had to stew in his emotions alone. As for Stonn, well, it offered Spock a perfect opportunity not to act on impulse. Amanda was there for him, Sarek thought it was illogical and reprimanded him. Soon, years passed, and Spock grew out of that fear — or that's what he let his parents believe so he could leave the house on his own again. But it did certainly lessen, for which he was grateful, despite the memory of a sandy tomb being seared into his mind.
When Spock moved to Earth to join Starfleet, he learned pretty quickly that humans had their own versions of storms, too, which was significantly much worse than he could have possibly ever imagined. It consists of things that Spock despised with a cold demeanor: it was wet, it was frequent, it was loud, and sometimes it had lightning. He thought he finally had a chance away from Vulcan's weather-related death traps, but apparently, Earth just had to improve on that, too. Good thing he moved to San Francisco and not Texas, or else he'd have to deal with tornados and hurricanes, too. Whoever said living at Earth was like a haven obviously didn't know what they were talking about, because when a thunderstorm hit right when he was attending a class on Advanced Exochemistry at Starfleet Academy, Spock was certain that he was the first Vulcan-human hybrid ever to have experienced a panic attack. But, then again, he was the only Vulcan-human hybrid ever recorded.
Of course, being the good Vulcan son that he was, Spock followed through with Sarek's discipline and didn't dare announce or express that he was a shaking mess of terror to his professor, who actively explained the lesson and had no desire to be interrupted. The storm brewing outside was muffled by the building's walls, though it was truly unfortunate that it still had enormous windows that could easily shatter by the force of those winds outside. As Spock observed the dark foreboding colors of grays and blues, and the constant heavy downpour that he will have to endure on his walk to his dorm, there was a sudden flash of light that illuminated within the clouds and a booming crackle that followed, that caused Spock and a few students to flinch at the sound. The cadet who sat next to him saw his reaction and looked at him oddly, but he ignored it in favor of focusing on the lecture.
At least he tried to, but it was hard to listen to the Andorian while lights continued to flash outside, and no one else reacted the way he was. Spock took a deep breath, set his shaking fingers clutching the stylus on the PADD before him, and began to take notes:
When applying exochemistry to determine an unknown species, formulas that are affected include—
When there was another boom outside, that last 'e' gained a spike on top when his hand twitched in fear. Spock softly sighed, hoping that the storm would at least dissipate when class ended in an hour from then. That's what he told himself — unfortunately, it did not follow through. When the lights above them suddenly flickered, causing the professor to pause his speech, Spock launched out of his seat with his things gathered in his arms and all-but sprinted out of the classroom before his professor could even blink. His father would have been disappointed, but his physical education coach would be thrilled to see him running a mile through the rain to reach his dorm all within three minutes. He was, however, displeased to find his roommate in a state of bliss to be engulfed in a cloud of his own. Spock frowned slightly at the young man who lit a pungent agent from a rolled up paper against his mouth.
"You got your smoke, I got mine. You're always welcome to join me, of course."
Spock refrained himself from correcting the man on both his grammar and false information, for meditation incense was not the same as tobacco. He crossed the room to open the window, only to flinch back when another shockwave of thunder hit his ears. Spock won't be able to focus on his homework if this storm keeps up… His eyes then fall to his roommate, who raises an eyebrow in his direction, specifically attentive to the stick the ginger haired human held. When another crackle of lightning hit, Spock found his resolve. He tried the cigarette… and didn't like it. However, his roommate found a compromise: he was allowed to smoke only at a maximum of two cigarettes while Spock simply hung out. That day, and all those storms after at the Academy, were repressed by perhaps the only other person to understand his fears that refused to surface to any others. His roommate didn't judge him for being Vulcan acting on a human habit, but simply talked to him like they were old friends. Still, Spock felt ashamed but pleased to find someone else to speak to that wasn't his mother.
When Spock met Nyota Uhura a year after he graduated and moved on to teaching at the Academy, she mistakenly found him frozen to the spot within the on-campus supermarket as a raging storm blared just outside, knowing well of a hurricane-proximity warning that the news anchor said on a screen nearby. Surprisingly, she didn't berate him, though, in fact, coaxed him into serenity and offered to be a comforting aide. Spock quickly found that suitable when he found her trustworthy, especially when he had lost his roommate during the graduating process. He thought that was the end of his fears.
Never jinx circumstances.
Of course, a space storm wasn't something at all what Spock expected, nor was it terrifying like the others. After all, all noise was completely muted within the confinement of the U.S.S. Enterprise. It wasn't the weather itself that racked fear onto Spock, no. It was what happened during the event of the storm that once again scarred him for life. Just as the Narada took the lives within the Kelvin during a storm, that ship takes the lives of billions of Vulcans and one human, Amanda Grayson.
Since that moment, Spock hates storms.
And when Spock returns to Earth from their successful mission against Nero, he and his father attend several memorial events dedicated to the loss of Vulcan and its inhabitants about a week later. He feels nothing during this, much like how his father displays, but at the same time, he couldn't help but notice the lack of the telepathic connection he once had to the planet itself. It was unusual to sense nothing there, that void of darkness… Once, he had his mother, father, and the planet as secure connections to rely on for mental stability, as does with every Vulcan. But now, two out of the three were completely gone, the last one barely being hung on a thread tightened with unsaid tension. If he loses Sarek again, with that last desperate connection, he depends completely on, for some reason of disagreement or other… Spock's truly frightened to even think about that possibility.
The next day was a tough one to get through, especially considering it was the day his mother's funeral would be held. Spock can understand his father's comments about the illogicality of burying a coffin when there was no body, but their human step-relatives didn't care a word of what he said, merely telling them that they were welcomed to pay their respects then leave. The Grayson family never really accepted Sarek or Spock after their youngest member left them for Vulcan. Their aggression was both unnecessary but not unexpected. Spock understood, that's why he convinced Sarek to go. The funeral itself was positioned at the San Francisco cemetery, a popular place to position dead loved ones due to its perfect view of the bay near them; as the eulogies began, beginning with a woman Spock vaguely remembers as Amanda's cousin in one old photo, his eyes gaze down to the coffin awaiting to fit snugly in the ground. His body feels numb. He can't even feel the pain or misery as he did on the Enterprise. Perhaps it was because he quickly pushed those feelings away when he had to deal with Nero, and now it was taking long to resurface. Whatever the reason, Spock remained silent and stone faced, unlike his father, who had closed his eyes and bowed his head, an unnerving display of him retaining something. Spock did nothing to comfort the Vulcan, for he truly didn't know how.
The Vulcan-human hybrid was only pulled out of his thoughts when the cousin from before tapped his shoulder, her apparent presence from the front having been changed by an older man, one whom he didn't recognize. Her teary eyes are an unwavering brown as she addresses Spock, even jabbing a long-nailed finger into his arm.
"If you're going to say something, do it now before they lower the casket. I don't care if it's illogical or not. You are going to speak because you were her son."
Spock blinks, the thought of speaking about his late mother causing his spine to tighten. Before he could say anything, the man at the front finished with a quiet sob, and the priest who led the funeral gazed at the crowd. He asked if there were any more speakers then the woman's hand struck in the air.
"Yeah, one more." She dragged Spock forward, passing people who began to whisper to themselves when they caught sight of his alien features, until she dropped him off at the front. Before the woman left, she whispered a threat into his ear. "Do something that won't disappoint her and talk."
Spock felt his throat go dry. His brown eyes gaze along the equally dark ones, who watched him with expectation. The clouds above them darkened as though to match the mood. Spotting his father's eyes slowly opening to latch onto his, Spock felt words spilling out of his mouth.
"I watched my mother die when I could have caught her—" Then, a drop of water splashed against his forehead. He would have ignored it if another one didn't follow. Several people looked up to notice rain beginning to drop from above, as if the skys were saddened by the amount of grief, but Spock for once steeled himself on the oncoming storm. His fists clenched at his sides when they began to shake reflexively. "My mother perished right before me, and I could do nothing. I am Vulcan, so I find it illogical to bury a person who is not even here, but I am also human, so it affects me that I cannot even present her body to her rightful homeworld and family." His eyes fell upon the humans before him, eyes sharp yet shown with sympathy. "I regret not returning her home to you, as I do with not being there to rescue Amanda sooner. I regret not telling her I—..."
BOOM!
Spock flinched violently. People whipped out their umbrellas, and those who didn't have them squished under their small booklets or PADDs. He couldn't see his father anymore due to the blocking overhead plastics. His fight-or-flight response threatened to overtake him, but Spock forced it down to continue.
"I regret not telling my mother that I loved her," he finally called over the downpour. The Grayson's were unperturbed by his outburst. "Amanda Grayson was the only human I was exposed to for years during my youth, and she was the only person who assisted me in understanding the concepts of humanity. She showed me a method of not only repressing my emotions but also connecting with them. She was there when no one understood, and I regret not telling her that I loved her. It is illogical, but for once, I could hardly care. Amanda Grayson died in a terrible way, but I truly hope that she knew before she perished that I cared for her. She was my mother… and her humanity exists in me."
As silence enveloped the scene apart from the natural course of angry weather above them, Spock turned his attention to the casket slowly dropping into the ground; a frown suddenly appeared on his face when something within his mind shifted. At once, he realized what was happening — it happened on the day of destruction and his mother's death — and Spock's eyes snapped over to where his father was last seen, not at all understanding. In a rush, he brushed through the crowd, finding the spot where he once was and not where Sarek currently stood. The Vulcan was gone. Spock tried to control his emotions, but his resolve was already weakened, even shaking as its hold against the newest situation arose. The younger Vulcan rushed out of the gathering, scanning the place for Sarek, deciding not to shout for him when he concluded that the man was gone and his worst fears came true when he sensed one last message coming through the mental bond.
I am sorry, Spock. With that, the connection with his father wilted away faster than a dying flower, leaving the son of a once proud family all alone. The walls crumbled. His face shattered as did his heart, and tears welled up and fixed with the rain as it dripped down his cheeks.
Spock hadn't cried since he had been a child, but at that moment, he let everything out. He sank down to his knees, unable to keep himself standing, and sobbed loudly in grief, betrayal, sadness, and anguish. He had no one. His mind was empty. There was no one. His mind had no connections. His family was no more. His mind didn't know how to fix this. He can't do this alone. He doesn't want to. Emotions suddenly turned to building rage as he punched the floor and roared out into the abyss of the rain. He was pained and frustrated with it all. Spock forced his mouth shut when he remembered where he was. Turning around, he searched for the funeral attendees, only to see that they had all gone. Apparently, more time has passed than Spock noticed, considering that the storm had worsened so much to the point of causing the dirt below him to begin to flood. His knees were stained with mud, but the rest of his body was drenched in water. Slowly, Spock rose to his feet and trudged through the slippery terrain to the grave. The headstone would not be put today, leaving it temporarily unmarked. Still, his eyes glared down at the wavering mud patch, feeling cold everywhere.
He growled. "You both left me here, Mother. Tell me, what am I supposed to do now?" There was, obviously, no response. Still, an emotional mind was not a clear one. He clenched his fists as a snarl erupted. "What am I supposed to do now?!"
BOOM! Crackle!
Tears fell down again, just as his anger washed away. "I do not have anyone anymore, Mother. I don't know what to do," he whimpered, shamefully covering his eyes with his fists. "Why couldn't you have stayed? Why did you have to leave me? W-Why d-did you have to leave?"
Spock lost track of time, but soon it turned darker than it already was, so he decided it was the right time to head home — what counts as a home? It's a hotel building popularly used by Starfleet officers when they are on leave from active ship assignments. Considering he was on the Enterprise's roster, he was assigned living arrangements there, which was fortunate since his teaching contract that previously housed him at the Academy ended a few days ago. Without a job and without a family, things were really looking up for Spock. He felt cold to the bone when he entered the hotel, his standard-issued boots being muffled by the carpet below him. The receptionist was nowhere to be found at the front, but Spock had no need to ask for assistance. He moved to the elevator, pressed the button for the fourth floor, and found his room down the corridor.
Inside, Spock ever-so-slowly walked to his bedroom to fetch some soft sleepwear and hopped into the shower, his wet dirty clothes audibly flopping onto the tiled floor. After taking a shower so hot that would have seared the flesh off of any human, he sheathed into the warm fabrics and laid in bed. His body was hit with a spell of exhaustion, the activity of expelling so much emotion drove everything out of him; however, the fact of being able to heal will be a long process, one that was filled with doubt and longing. Spock was alone now. There will be nothing to ground him to reality this time. He turned on his side, gazing out the tall window beside his bed, watching the pounding drops of rain. Another boom of lightning broke through his thoughts along with the memory of his mother comforting him. Tears began to gather and drop down to his pillow.
Spock didn't get sleep that night, just like the last few days.
The hybrid rose before the sun and changed into his gray uniformed clothing, remembering that Starfleet prepared a ceremony today to relieve Christopher Pike from the Enterprise and to promote James T. Kirk into Captain status, the youngest man to do so in Starfleet history. Normally, Spock would have been impressed by such a feat, but now he hardly feels his own fingers. He makes his way down to the assembly hall at the Academy, though instead of sitting down at his usual place near the front, Spock stands up at the balcony above, gazing down at the ceremony with blank eyes. He hardly listens to it, rude in retrospect, but remains determined to not let his mind wander to yesterday's episode. Instead, he turns down at the audience, not being able to recognize anyone from the back of their head, until his attention finds Jim's bright smile when he was awarded by Pike's handshake. Despite their past altercations, Spock was… proud of what Jim accomplished, and can see him commanding the Enterprise well throughout the years.
Without warning, blue diamond-like eyes found his own dark brown ones. Spock froze, but Jim simply cocked his head to the side, waving up at him in greeting. Before heads turned to understand what the man was waving at, Spock backed away from the ledge, sighing uneasily. Just because he dropped the charges of cheating doesn't mean he was willing to confront the man again. Quickly, he escapes the hall, finding the exit swiftly. However, just before he had time to even pass the door, his name echoed within the somewhat empty foyer.
"Commander Spock!"
And just like storms, it seems adamant that he couldn't get rid of Jim Kirk either. Repressing another sigh, Spock turned, awaiting for the young blonde to jog up to him with a beaming smile.
"Hey. Thanks for coming by. I expected the others to be here, but not you." Spock refrained from commenting that his attendance was mandatory as Kirk continued to speak. "Hey, the others and I are going out celebrating. For me, getting captaincy and them getting permanent positions as my senior crew on the Enterprise. Why don't you join us?"
Something along the structure of jealousy flared up in him, but Spock immediately shook his head, pushing the thought down. "That will not be necessary. It is you all who have earned your ways into well-deserved futures. My presence is not needed. I suggest you enjoy yourselves." He turned to leave, but Kirk suddenly grabbed his arm, stopping him cold.
"We couldn't have gotten here without you, and you don't have to do this alone."
Spock felt his face twitch in confusion. "Captain Kirk, I emphasize that you have done what no one could have possibly done. You managed to win in a no-win scenario. You deserve to celebrate away from the person who nearly led the entire Enterprise to destruction. Go. Enjoy the day with your friends. You earned it."
Kirk frowned. "They're your friends too, you know."
There was a pause of silence before he shook his head. "No, they are not." The Vulcan moved the man's hand off his person to hold up a salute. "Live long and prosper, Captain Kirk. I offer you a piece of advice: your priority is to the ship and crew, but no matter the situation, explore the stars like no one has done before. Space is your final frontier. Help the rest of us understand more of it."
Spock fled before the newly appointed captain had a chance to answer. He felt those blue eyes trail him even from outside the building, but it didn't matter. The hybrid just wanted to get out. Even in the crisp open air, he felt suffocated. With his mind able to think, his legs went wherever they wanted. Brown eyes bounced up to the sky — it was clearer now, no sign of any previous torment that struck the clouds just a few hours earlier. This was definitely not a sign of foreshadowing or personification or some other literary device, for Spock still felt the thunderous effects of what happened just recently. He pondered over what illogical concepts that made him deserve this treatment: losing his mother, his home, almost all of the Vulcans, his father abandoning him, and losing his job (which the timing of its expiration was such a coincidence). If there was a moment where things were able to change positively, Spock would have laughed at the absurdity. It's only a matter of time when Spock loses himself permanently, either from lack of motivation, a complete dedication to the Kolinar ritual, or an attempt at suicide. Actually, he's read that there have been a few accounts of Vulcans reported dead, all from self-infliction; it seems that the destruction of their home planet was too much for the once logic-driven society. Truly unfortunate, though Spock wonders if he will just end up like them.
He walks aimlessly for hours. All around the city did his two feet take him, only stopping to get a drink of water before continuing on his way. For once, the day was at peace and despite himself not being completely centered, Spock allowed the day turned evening to settle his troubling heart before more damage was done… But of course there was no such thing as peace for Spock.
A loud shout that came from a nearby establishment pulled his interest. The Commander walked closer in the direction he planned on going, not like satisfying curiosity will bring harm, until he saw through the large window of a bar and noticed the patrons inside were all zoning in their eyes to the back of the room. They blocked his chance to see, but it didn't matter. Spock was aware that bars like these encountered moments of fights, it was nothing unusual for the people on Earth. He juggled the idea of intervening, though despite being in Starfleet as a commander, he had little authority to make arrests such as these. Spock will just have to leave it to the local law enforcement. Just as he made the move to leave, one of the patrons inside shifted to the side, giving him a glance of the Nyota Uhura sitting inside.
Without another moment, Spock entered the bar.
The commotion inside now was more prominent than ever, with two notable voices standing out above the murmurs of patrons. Some drinkers turned upon his entrance, noticing his Starfleet badge, which ensued more frantic whispers. More people acknowledged him with either nervous glances or disgruntled scoffs. Spock ignored them in favor of moving to where the problem arose, which was where Nyota and familiar members of the Enterprise's senior crew sat. Once they spotted him, they each simultaneously winced. Spock only took a second to understand that expression. It was not just an ordinary bar fight he stumbled upon, but one that involved that newly appointed Captain Jim Kirk.
At once, Spock's eyes hardened into steel. Just as the growing argument between an intoxicated Tellarite and clearly arrogant human persisted, the former raised their fist ready to strike, but Spock took that time to step in the way, easily catching the alien's fist in his palm with an audible thump. He heard Jim choke out a curse, but his gaze remained on the smaller figure in front of him.
"It would not be advisable to escalate the situation further by initiating hand-to-hand combat," Spock strictly commented, though he kept his demeanor calm, knowing this species had a record for their large tempers. The Tellarite growled loudly, wiggling his hand free from his grasp.
"Get outta the way, Vulcan. This ain't your fight," the patron snarled up at him before pointing over at Jim. "This human deserves a good pounding!"
Spock glanced back at Kirk, searching for an explanation, only to spot him wiping off blood off his torn lip. It seems he was too late to stop the total confrontation. They need to leave soon before anyone recognizes the team of humans and reports them, which will threaten their careers. Spock can't have that. He returns his eyes back to the angry alien. "I understand, and I shall escort them out. On their behalf, I apologize for all the things that this man may have done, but we will be going now—"
"No way!" Now, the Tellarite grabbed him by the collar and held him there. "I said he ain't going nowhere. That guy spilled a drink on me, then went ahead and lied about it. I don't know why you want to defend him, but no one's walking out of here before someone owns up."
Spock released a huff. "Then I shall pay for a new set of clothing—"
"No, it's way beyond that now. I want his blood on my fist," he growled. "I'm gonna say this one last time, Starfleet: why don't you scurry along and mind your own business before you become an extinct species?"
His eyes darkened, just as the crowd murmured in shock. "I do not intend you to harm him further. Let them go, and you may return to your habits of inebriation." He squared his shoulders, easily slapping the alien's hairy hand off him. "Stand down. You do not wish to make enemies with a Vulcan."
The Tellarite scoffed loudly. "Is that right? Are you threatening me, Vulcan? You can't do that. You have no authority. Starfleet protects life, right? You can't come in here, stop this, and fight me 'cause it ain't in your jurisdiction. Now, why don't you go back to your fucking mommy and cry to her or after I break your face, I go and do the same to her?"
His eye twitched. Slowly, dangerously, Spock unclipped the Starfleet insignia badge from his peck and delicately placed it within Uhura's hand. He ignored her eyes of worry as he addressed the patron, who widened his eyes in surprise.
"I am not here as part of Starfleet." He took a step forward, cold glaring down at the alien. "You have one warning: apologize, otherwise we will need to confront the issue."
"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea," Jim commented uneasily, placing a hand on his shoulder, but Spock shrugged it off, frowning.
"Then you should have considered it before initiating a near-to brawling in a public place," he all-but hissed.
"It's not my fault!"
Spock ignored him when the Tellarite barked a laugh. "This is good. A Vulcan getting angry. I have to say, I ain't never seen that before, but that was bound to happen at some point, you know, with your home planet being destroyed and all." This caused even the patrons to start glaring, but Spock was beginning to see red. His control was fighting a deep instinct of rage and violence, like a thundering storm was just brewing in his mind, waiting to release the latest shot of lightning. Fists clenched when the alien continued, oblivious to the dangerous tension that overlapped. "Oh, ho! Now it's getting interesting! Look, I don't fucking care what you are, but get the hell outta my way. Ain't no Vulcan gonna scare me, stupid pathetic species all talking about logic and shit. Well, guess what happened? All that snotty uptight way of living got most of your people killed! Is that why you're in here, in this bar? To cry your heart out? You're a damn robotic demon, you ain't got no heart! Ain't got a heart to cry with, to laugh with, ain't got nothing that could love—"
Spock turned to the nearest patrons at a table. "Apologies in advance," he said quickly before grabbing the Tellarite by the head and slamming it clear through the thick wooden table, silencing the alien as he crashed into the floor with an audible cry. Oh, how he wished to keep slamming the Tellarite's head over and over again until it was nothing but a pile of mush. Silence settled throughout the establishment as they watched the alien shakily shift, but the Vulcan stopped him from going forward by sending one punch directly into the cemented floor beside his face, creating a hole with ease. Spock ignored the sound of the bones within his knuckles shattering, instead focusing on the Tellarite's whimper of fear as he flinched back from the shards that flung at him. The Commander leaned forward, his voice lowering into a deep guttural snarl.
"Do not speak with such stupidity about a subject you do not understand. Now, apologize to the Captain."
"S-S-Sorry," the Tellarite frantically squeaked, or as much as he could with his nose leaking out blood. Spock pulled away to stand, whipping his hand from debris and blood, before pulling out his wallet. He counted out his bills, handing out fifty credits to the patron who sat at the table with their female companion. Muttering another apology, Spock turned to the group of Enterprise officers, glare returning.
"All of you — get out." Even Captain Kirk didn't wait to hear his second command. Quietly and in embarrassment, the group of six got up and shuffled out of the establishment. Spock waited to raise an eyebrow over to the attending bar keep, who shrugged and went back to work like nothing happened. Even the patrons went back to conversation, though a few of them did pat Spock on the shoulder or back in some form of congratulations that caused the anger from earlier to swap into mild confusion. When he made it outside, the group of officers remained waiting for him, with Kirk stepping forward with a frown.
"Thanks for the help." Jim's comment ignited the smoldering fire in him and, with his lack of emotional control, he couldn't stop it.
"I should not have to find the Captain of Starfleet's newest flagship in a physical confrontation with a civilian, nor the rest of the senior crew idly waiting beside doing nothing to prevent the situation to have risen further," Spock all but roared, causing the aforementioned group to flinch. "You all are now the most important group of people to Starfleet, you require to be a modeled figure for them and future recruits. Whether you desire it or not, each of you have become a part of history the moment you requested a post on the Enterprise; however, just now, you have just proven that you are not capable of even handling mediocre conflicts such as this!"
"You know it wasn't my fault—"
Spock released an impatient growl. "It does not matter, Mr. Kirk. What you should have done is deesclated the confrontation, not allowed your emotions to hinder your actions. If you continue this mindset of being victor over all consequences, then I unfortunately have to admit that you will get every person on that ship including yourself killed."
At that, Kirk's blue eyes sharpened. "Hey, watch what you're saying, Commander. I am still your ranking officer."
He took a step forward, staring down into those diamonds. "Perhaps, but you are certainly not my Captain."
Those eyes faltered.
"Be fortunate that you were not recognized within your civilian clothing or another Captain or Admiral seen what happened, otherwise your positions would have been terminated instantly." He took a step back, addressing them all harshly. "As the human colloquialism goes, you are all 'on very thin ice'. Return home, you have all done enough for today." He made the move to walk away, but another comment spewed out of him.
"And Mr. Kirk, if you plan on deciding who should be your First Officer, perhaps it would be best to consider if they have the mental and emotional capabilities to handle your impulsivenes," Spock said to him, his eyes lingering on Jim before turning to leave. His shoulders slumped in exhaustion, not being able to feel his hand or whatever is left in his heart. He does not hear footsteps follow behind him, which is fortunate, as he travels to the cemetery once again. Thoughts take him to the crew, where they will surely call a home and family once they depart on the Enterprise within three days from now. Despite the question on why the Tellarite had gotten so angry with Jim for spilling a drink, Spock found himself caring if the Captain had been further harmed by the alien or if any of the others were targeted by mean-spirited comments as well. It was illogical to worry about them, apart from Nyota, as they hold no corrals or commodities with him. Yet, Spock is alarmed to find himself imagining the worst case scenario of that bar fight and having to deal with six more losses that will surely kill him too. What brought him immense guilt was how he treated them right after, as if they were faliures before they had the chance to properly serve. It crushed him and Spock wanted nothing more than to apologize.
He loses all but one thought as he arrives at the cemetery, finding the gravesite of his mother in quick time. Spock kneels down on the moist grass, not caring about stained knees, as his eyes shut for meditation… Meditation became the last thing on his mind. He looked back at what he has now, what he owns and what he can expect or be proud of, but nothing reaches him. Spock has lost everything. The idea of committing an act to lose his life like the other Vulcans leered up at him, though this time he didn't push it away. There was a cliff nearby, one that easily falls into the San Francisco bay, and he cannot swim. It's a decent area, people might not find his body and bury him in an empty coffin like his mother, or they will find his corpse and handle its disposal method to Sarek, his birth father, who in turn will mention that it's illogical to keep a piece of the dead and have him discarded like another bundle of trash. Spock thinks deeply, then thinks about his mother. What would she do in this situation? What would she tell him? ' Be brave, little one', or perhaps to ' Remain calm and aware of lives around you', maybe even ' Just know whatever happens, you'll always have a proud moth—
He flinched when a drop of rain fell on the top of his head. Dark eyes deadpanned, rising to the sky and spotting thunderous clouds looming over him. Shaking his head with a sigh, he stayed where he was. "You did not leave me when there was a storm," he told the grave. "I shall do the same to you, Mother."
When the rain turned into a hellish downpour, leaving Spock shaking further than he's ever been before, the Vulcan stubbornly remained still and he remained as such for hours on end until he heard his name being called. Spock turned to the left, narrowing his eyes through the heavy drops of water to spot Jim Kirk looking in through the open door of a — unironically — crew van, waving at him.
"Spock! Spock! Come on!"
He was thoroughly confused, with the anvil of guilt revisiting. He could see McCoy sitting in the passenger's seat and Sulu in the driver's. "What is your purpose here? I have told you all to return to your personal dwellings!"
"What?!" Jim screeched just as a boom of thunder tore through the sky. "I can't hear you. Just come on! You're gonna get sick!"
"I said go home!" He shouted. Jim turned back to the inside of the vehicle before shooting out of his seat, marching towards him. Spock remained where he was, his body too weak to do more. When the man was close, he made his displeasure known. "Go home, Captain. I do not see why you have come here to disturb me."
Jim frowned, his gaze somewhat obstructed by his bangs before his blue eyes dropped to the grave. Abruptly, he fell on his knees, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. There was a small pause of him simply staring into his soul and, for that moment, Spock could read what was swarming through those determined blue eyes. It was not arrogance, it was dignity. It was not recklessness, it was integrity. It was not stupidity, it was sacrifice. For the first time since he's met the man, Spock could finally see what barely scratched the surface that was Jim Kirk. Spock mutters something that even fell deaf in his own ears, but that didn't matter, for the attention was abruptly stolen when arms engulfed his shaking figure and blonde hair captured the corner of his vision. Stunned, Spock froze in place, feeling his breathing quicken and eyes shine.
"I want you as my First Officer. No one else."
His lips tightened into a line just as his throat constricted. "Why… do you want me?" Against his wishes, a sound whimpered out of him, and he was abolished to realize that it was a sob. "Even my father did not want me."
The arms around him only tightened as resolve blared from the physical touch. "We want you because you're fucking awesome. No explanations needed. Only you have the guts to call out bullshit to even a superior." He felt amusement prickle from the edges of his mind before they shifted to hesitant hope. "We want you there, Spock. I need you there. Please."
Those arms, although oddly against Spock's will, pulled away fromthr Vulcan. Spock's eyes flickered to the van, still feeling ashamed. "I am not leaving my mother, Jim," he said in a wavering whisper.
Jim gave him a long look. "She's not even here, Spock."
The Commander's eyes sharpened, tears blending into the rain, his body becoming rigid… only for his shoulders to soften and he released a sigh. "No, no, she is not." No matter how much I want her to be, his mind added. When he concluded that the human won't leave him alone, Spock gave up his freedom. Silently, he walked past him, to which he quickly joined his side by placing a hand on his shivering shoulder. They entered the van that was packed with the officers he met earlier at the bar. Nyota quickly wrapped him with a towel, guiding him to a small seat near her. Jim sat across from him to close the door, facing him with a soft huff just as Sulu pulled them away from the cemetery. There was a pause of silence with everyone shifting awkwardly, not knowing how to mend the situation, only for Spock to open his mouth.
"I should apologize for my earlier behavior," he addressed, straightening into that of a natural commanding officer. "It was inappropriate and especially not true." He gazed at each of their eyes, making sure to hold them in what could only be described as immense respect, going through their traits within his mind: Nyota's strength, Leonard's integrity, Montgomery's persistence, Hikaru's confidence, Pavel's intelligence, and Jim's determination. "You each have an excellent opportunity in front of you, an even brighter future. Starfleet had chosen the greatest people to be the Enterprise's outstanding senior crew and I am more than… I am more than proud to see what you can do and to have worked alongside you for that short time. I apologize for lying. You are all more than ready to be out there with the Enterprise and I would personally do everything in my power to have you remain there for as long as she continues to soar. That is an honest promise."
There was a silence that followed. Spock sighed heavily, wrapping the towel closer to himself, suddenly feeling foolish. It was not in the Vulcan way to have explained things so passionately, on the verge of emotion, and especially to have done so in front of a group of humans. If his fath— If Sarek overheard him say those things, it would have only justified his reasoning for abandonment. It was mortifying, how could a Vulcan change their way of living just from what? The death of their mother? The annihilation of their planet? The near destruction over their entire species? The crew surrounding him didn't say anything, or perhaps he didn't hear, for the next moment his world turned dark and all of his senses switched off.
Spock could feel nothing but heaviness.
He could hear nothing around him.
He couldn't smell, see, sense anything.
If he could, Spock would have panicked, but there was nothing to do but sit – float? – drown? – where he was in this pit of emptiness and pondered if this was what it was like for something to die. And just as abruptly as this sluggishness washed over him, sadness hit him like an oceanic tsunami. Over the desperation of the pain in his heart to end, it would not. His body was betraying him, this was not normal, why was this happening, just MAKE IT STOP!
"I can't make the pain stop, dear. But it'll be over soon, trust me."
And then, Spock could see. He was no longer within the van, this time in a living room home. He stood in front of a window, seeing a sandstorm rapidly hit its bits of rock and dirt against the panes, making them rattle and thunder. Confused because he recognized the frame and nature's torment, Spock turned around to further observe the home to be none other than his childhood residence, every detail and piece of furniture completely in place as he remembered, until two figures in the center stole his attention. One of them was a young Vulcan, Spock himself, who was seated on the couch and actively attempting to stop everything in his power to not cry while the woman who tended his knee in front of him patched his opened wound with an exhausted smile.
"I told you not to go play so roughly with I-Chaya. You could have gotten seriously hurt. He's much larger than you," the woman lightly scolded. Spock quietly observed the conversation play out, too dumbstruck to even move. The young Vulcan whimpered softly as the bandage tightened.
"I apologize, but it was not I-Chaya's fault, Mother. It was I who was not careful. He does not deserve blame."
"I know, dear. I know." There was another second before the woman smiled proudly, her brown life-filled eyes brightening up to the boy. "There. All done. Is that better?"
The boy gave a hesitant nod, head downcast. Amanda tilted her head with a frown, just as Spock slowly forced the joints of his legs to stalk around the couch to capture a better angle of her face, examining her as if she would disappear by the blink of an eye; at the same time, she spoke again, though this time in a more quieter tone that he was familiar with.
"How are you feeling, Spock?"
His mother almost never asked him what was 'wrong' or if there was something troubling his mind, as what his father would opt to ask on the rare occasion. As a human, Spock supposed that was what she was obligated to ask as perhaps a custom on Earth and he's repeatedly told her that on Vulcan there was no need to ask him how he felt when it was frowned upon to do so. In response, she simply waved him off and told him that no one will stop her from asking what he felt because, no matter whether he liked it or not, Spock was human too. Most times, Spock thought it was humiliating, but as he grew older, sometimes he wished he could still hear his mother ask him how he felt. He refocused on the exchange in front of him, despite knowing well on what the outcome would be.
"You are scheduled to depart tomorrow morning for Earth and you are planned to return three months from the point of arrival." The small Vulcan looked up to meet his mother's eyes, strangely wide and concerned. "How can I be certain that you will arrive by such time? What if the shuttle that takes you does not make it to Earth and has a failure in space? What if your profession requires you to remain on the planet for longer than promised? What if you do not return at all and I never see you again? What will happen to Father, to I-Chaya, to me?"
Amanda swiftly sat on the other side of him, her hands resting against her lap as she addressed him. Spock finally stopped where he was behind her and he could see over her shoulder how her fingers twitched, refraining from moving to physically comfort her son in respect of the Vulcan culture to not touch the touch telepaths. There was nothing more in the world that Spock wouldn't give to get a hug from his mother, the mother who sacrificed so much to make him comfortable in a world that brought him conflict.
"Instead of wondering on the 'what ifs', you focus on what you already know. Fact: I will be gone by tomorrow morning. Fact: you will see me during departure and have the ability to track my shuttle through the available digital networks. Fact: I will remain in contact with you every day after your classes. Fact: I will return in three months' time and, I can promise, there will be nothing to keep me from seeing you again, my son. Even if I have to yell at my superiors and all forces on Earth, my career be damned." Even with her back toward the adult, Spock could hear the genuine intention in her tone. "I will return to you, Spock, and be by your side. Always and forever."
At those loving words, those words meant for comfort, for aide, for a time of crisis, stirred something dark within Spock. As the woman rose to guide the young child to bed, she turned and looked in his direction, abruptly pausing in stride. For a startling moment, Spock made eye contact with Amanda, and as her eyes began to focus in on him, the sadness intertwined with unresolved anger unleashed into one powerful comment to his late mother.
"I love you… and I hate you."
Amanda was unperturbed.
"I do not desire for any other emotion to arise, but I truly feel such hate toward you," he growled fiercely, fists clenched at his sides. The fire within him boomed with the sound of the sand storm outside, adding tension into the area. His lips quivered as tears welled in his eyes. "You have done everything for me, faced ridicule for Sarek, left home for Vulcan, and made all these promises of being there when you—" His voice abruptly died. "... You lied to me."
" Looks like that storm isn't going to let up soon," Amanda hummed, her eyes looking clear past him to the window he stood in front of. Spock felt his eyes widen in rage and disbelief as the woman ushered the child to the bedroom. " Don't worry, Spock. I can stay with you until you fall asleep."
"YOU LIED TO ME!" Spock roared, desperately hoping to get her attention or for her to turn around and acknowledge him, to pursue the line of emotion and address it as she always did. What are you feeling, Spock? What are you feeling? What are you feeling?... She did nothing, simply continued on toward the stairs on the right.
"She never lied to you, Spock."
A new voice reached his ears, this time addressing his statement. Its male deep tone was not unfamiliar, but unusual. As he turned, his eyes found the cold ones of Sarek's and, despite the comment meaning to settle him, it only riled him more. Spock stood in place, every vein in his body as tense as a coil, watching his birth parent with clear violence and distrust. While he wondered how the man got there, it was clear that the Enterprise senior officers had taken him somewhere, where Sarek had soon found him, but it didn't explain one thing.
"What are you doing within my mind?" He demanded. Sarek, like the memory of Amanda, seemed unfazed by his tone and simply spoke in the toneless control that the hybrid yearned for.
"Captain Kirk brought you to me in alarm at the Embassy. I was in the middle of a meeting when he called via a local comm unit to inform me that you had fallen unconscious during a conversation between him. He mentioned you were injured and a doctor by the name of McCoy informed me of your deprived state, but it did not entirely explain the cause of your disconnection. It seems the stresses of the past events have caused your innermost emotional shields to crumble, rendering you vulnerable and unable to support even the ability to stay awake," Sarek explained evenly. "He insisted that I should assist, and a mind meld seemed to be the most logical solution to pull you out of this delusion you have intertwined with a memory."
Spock snarled. "Delusion? You were not here. You did not witness those promises of safety and her presence, something she promised to never leave. You cannot expect me to react how you desire when you yourself had run from who was no longer there. You are a coward." He turned around, adamant on pursuing his mother. "Go back to your meeting and relinquish this meld. I have nothing more to say to you."
"What do you plan on doing?" Sarek questioned loudly, calmly, and instinctively Spock stilled in his place to abide the silent demand. "This is not real, she cannot hear you."
"This is my mind," he said harshly, refusing to face him. "I will make her hear me."
It took less than a second to register pounding footsteps behind him before a hand was placed on his shoulder and whipped him around. Spock was forced to face three sprawling fingers gripping the side of his face, and his eyes widened at the sudden intense gaze that his father possessed. He meant to pull away, but everything fell dark again, though this time he was aware of his body. His thoughts wandered for a moment before they were harshly pulled to the surface and his eyes blinked open, taking in the light within the room and the looming face of Sarek. His emotions had not been gathered just yet and, with the lingering agitation from the depths of his soul, set a propelling fist crashing into the man's jaw with a sickening crunch. Sarek staggered a step back, holding his face in unexpected pain, but Spock sat swiftly up from the couch to approach him again.
He was thankful that the office room was empty when Spock lurched forward for another hit, but this time it was swiftly caught and returned into the stomach. A strained gasp tore out, only to be interrupted by a yank of the shoulder that slammed him into a nearby wall. Spock snarled up at his father, repeatedly swinging his fist at the base of his arm until the older Vulcan released him, allowing Spock to uppercut him. It barely did any damage. A hybrid mutation barely stood a chance against a full blooded Vulcan. Sarek seized the chance to tackle him back into a desk, toppling them both until they ended on the floor. His hand slammed against Spock's face, pinning him to the ground, forcing his eyes to strain up to the other.
"Let me go," he demanded.
"You will listen to your father and behave correctly, not as though an emotional infant—"
"You were no longer my father when you had severed our connection," Spock hissed. "How could you disown your only son in such a way, in such dishonor? And during my mother's funeral no less! Have you no shame or respect for what we both had lost — what you have taken away from me?!"
"I have taken nothing," Sarek coldly objected as Spock attempted to wiggle free. "You grieve over what we have lost, but it does not mean to lose control. You must find balance before you lose more than what you already have. Listen to me, I understand what you think, I have gone through your mind to see the trouble and pain that all our losses have accumulated onto and what I have done… It is no different." The hybrid finally gave up on the fight, knowing there was no point in wasting energy, but his eyes remained glued to whatever was in front of him and to avoid meeting Sarek's unusually soft gaze. "I have brought you loneliness and a darkness into your heart, but I had done what was only logical. With my mind connected with yours, it would have hindered your performance further and, as your father, it was my sacrifice I needed to make so you would live better. Look at me. Look at me, Spock." His father's hand gave a forceful push against his head, forcing his eyes in his direction. "You have found a group who cares for you, my son. They brought you here because they worry of your wellbeing and seek what's best for you. They want you, Spock, and I can see that you need them just the same. Do not push them away. Follow them into space, be on the Enterprise, do your mother proud and get off this planet to make a life for yourself. You escaped the path of a regular Vulcan once, let those humans guide you to be someone better."
Spock's eyes shut for a moment as he released an uneven sigh. "... Please let me go," he whispered.
There was a moment of hesitation before Sarek moved off him. When Spock reopened his eyes, he noticed the man had already risen and sat at the office space near him. Slowly, he got to his feet and made the move to the exit, his body already aching and his injured fist still dulled in pain, until he paused and looked back to his father. The man stared at him expectantly, waiting for something within the still tense room.
"I appreciate the assistance," Spock murmured with an audible discomfort. "But let this be the last time we cross paths. I no longer wish to associate with you, Sarek. Abide my wishes."
There was a grueling pause that immediately seconded that proposition only for it to be broken by Sarek standing, not moving from his desk, and holding up one hand in an all-too-familiar salute of respect and courtesy. "If that is what you desire, then this will be the final time. Live long and prosper, my son, Spock."
His mother taught him to always be respectful. His father taught him to always salute back to even the worst of beings. Today, at this moment, Spock couldn't even raise his heavy hand. "Peace and long life, Ambassador Sarek."
When the door slid shut behind him, Spock felt a heaviness on his body somewhat lift. He released a breath, letting his shoulders drop, and scanned the area for anything yet nothing in particular. In the distance, a group catches his attention, each of them quietly sitting in the waiting room, perhaps awaiting to see if Sarek's mind meld did work. Before going any further, Spock pondered his next actions, wondering if this is truly the path he was willing to take. Should he leave Earth to live on a starship? Should he fall under Kirk's Captaincy? Should he devote his life to a crew of over four hundred when they barely made it out alive the last time? His eyes lingered for a moment in doubt, thoughts swimming rapidly, until blue eyes caught him in the distance and they brightened.
At that moment, Spock knew that when he arrived back home, he would sign that position request to be the First Officer of the U.S.S Enterprise. And with a crew like that, there left no more doubts as he joined the others in a new upbringing of hope.
END