Fic: Observations, Ch 248
The bulkheads to my quarters opened. “Spock?”
Nyota.
I curled into myself and closed my eyes. Leave me be.
“Spock, I brought you some food. You haven’t eaten in seventy hours.”
She placed the tray down and I could feel her come towards me. She sat down on my bed.
“Spock,” she caressed my face. Her touch was grief sadness strength love. “Ndugu.”
I opened my eyes and turned to her.
“Come on, you need to eat.”
“I am not hungry,” I said quietly.
“I know, but you have to eat. Doctor’s orders,” she gave a small smile. “Besides, I brought you your favorite. Do you want to eat at the desk or in bed?”
“I have no preference.”
“Let’s eat at the table, get you out of bed for a change.”
I mechanically rose and followed her. My limbs were heavy.
She cleared the table, set the places and ladled out plomeek soup for the both of us. I looked at it.
“This is not programmed in the replicators.”
“Nope. I made it. Jim helped a little, but he had to go on duty. We found the recipe on the nets, but the first batch didn’t taste very good, so we made some improvements. I hope you like it.”
I ate a few spoonfuls. Objectively speaking, it was quite good. One could not have asked for better from a Vulcan. But I was not hungry.
“You don’t like it?”
“It is wonderful, Nyota, thank you. I simply do not have an appetite.”
“Have some more. Just half the bowl. You need the nutrients badly, or M’Benga will have no choice but to give you a hypo of nutrients.”
I acquiesced. One spoonful at a time, I finished the soup. In the meantime, Nyota chattered on about the goings on of the ship.
“Sulu came down with a spacebug, so he’s stuck in Sickbay. He sends his greetings by the way, and says he’s sorry he hasn’t been able to read with you more. The captain’s been leaning a lot on us. Chekov says he’s getting the hang of running the science meetings. They’re planning on holding a ship wide conference, so that the scientists can show off to the rest of the crew exactly what they’ve been doing for all this time. They hope you’ll be able to make it.”
One spoonful at a time. I forced myself to swallow.
“Leonard is, well, he’s soldiering on. Jim’s been talking to him a lot-this whole thing has been hard. We’ll get through it. Did he tell you? During shore leave, Leonard and Scotty went and bought up the entire inventory of whiskey, bourbon, scotch, and brandy. I have no idea what they’re planning on doing with all that alcohol-not drinking it in one go. Or if they do, they’d better invite me.”
Half the bowl almost gone. Counting the spoonfuls, losing myself in the music of Nyota’s voice. The rhythm of her gossip.
“Scotty’s working on a new beaming formula. He says he’s going to dedicate it to you. I didn’t know you could dedicate formulas to people, but I think it was either that or name a sandwich after you. He didn’t think you’d like it half as much, and I agreed. Christine says hi. It was her idea to make the plomeek soup in the first place.”
I swallowed. Dipped, lifted, swallowed. The method, muscle memory.
“We all miss you.”
Put down my spoon, the bowl not empty.
“Nyota, I am still on the Enterprise. The ship is large, but not so large that it is impossible to see each other. You make it seem as though I am removed from the vessel.”
I made no move to resume eating.
“Well, you have. You never take meals with us anymore, as soon as your shift is done you disappear. No one disturbs you at the lab, no one dares come to your quarters. You don’t talk to any of us anymore. You’ve withdrawn into yourself.”
Tiredness came over me once more. I wanted to purge everything I ate.
“We understand, Spock, truly we do. You need time and space, and we’ll give that to you. But please remember that we are here for you. If you ever need us, you know we’ll help you.”
I looked away.
“I-I am aware of this, ndugu. I want to be myself, I want things to be as they once were before, but,” I trailed off. “I do not know myself.”
Nyota came to my side and kneeled.
“You are Spock. You’re my brother and my best friend. You’re the best First Officer in all of Starfleet, serving on the best ship in the galaxy. You are son of Sarek and Amanda Grayson, and nothing they did to you can ever take that way. I love you, and we will get through this. We’re standing by you.”
Silence.
“You might feel like you’ve forgotten who you are, like they took everything from you. But they can never take away the loyalty this crew has to you. They can never take away the respect and admiration you’ve earned. There will be a better day when this is a distant memory for all of us.”
“I am so,” a sharp intake of breath. The words spill out. Keep the soup down. “Tired. Exposed. Afraid. I have no control of anything, not even myself.”
“No. Don’t you ever think that. Don’t say that, Spock.
“You are strong. You are the strongest person I know. Remember? You were disowned for coming to Starfleet but you became the best anyway. Vulcan was destroyed by Nero, you lost everything, but you continued to command the Enterprise and then volunteered for a suicide mission. You are incredibly strong.”
I look away, hands still.
“That’s what I see in you-strength and determination. Jim emotionally compromised you, and you still pulled yourself together and went with him on the Narada. You’ve saved so many worlds. That’s not something that the weak do, Spock. That’s what the strong, the brave, the fearless do. That’s what you are. Whenever I’m afraid, I look at you and I see you mastering yourself, putting aside anything selfish, putting away doubts so that you can help others.”
She put her hand to my face and smiled.
I do not know what to do with her words.
“You are selfless and kind. You are so funny-you make everyone laugh all the time, nailing Jim with that sharp sarcasm. That’s what you are. You don’t feel that way, but that’s what I see in you.”
Her definitions of who I am are no longer applicable.
“It’s what we all see in you, and it’s why Jim loves you. He loves you so much, and it’s killing him to see you like this.”
Jim.
Her definition of what we are is no longer applicable.
I looked away once more.
“Nyota.”
“Yes?”
“I do not think I can give anything to him anymore,” I clenched my fists. “I do not think I can do this any longer.”
Silence.
“You don’t think you can love him anymore?”
“No,” I said immediately. “Yes. I am not certain.”
Nyota’s eyes searched my face.
“Do you love him?”
Silence.
“It costs too much,” whispered.
“Love always costs everything we’ve got, Spock.”
“Then it is too much.”
“It costs everything we’ve got, but it gives back a thousand fold.”
“It is not enough, Nyota. Ten thousand fold is not worth this.”
“Give it time. You and Jim have something special, something that some people can only dream of. Don’t give up on it now. Please.”
Time. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
“This will pass. You both have worked so hard and changed so much to be the people who are you today. Spock, I promise you, this will pass. This is a storm. A hurricane, but even hurricanes blow over. All things have an ending, both good and bad. You’ll remember the good things in this universe. You’ll remember why love, why life is worth the cost. Give it time.”
Remember. Nothing. Words are meaningless. Metaphors useless.
“Ndugu, the storm has ended. The only thing left is miles upon miles of devastation.”
“That’s the only thing you can see. Give it time. What you’ll see will change.”
It is not a matter of vision, it is a matter of emotion. Purge me.
“We’ll rebuild. We’ll rebuild with something stronger and better. Spock, you survived the storm. Remember that. Remember that, and when you’re ready, return to us. We’ll help you.”