It's late when Uhura shows up at the location marked on Spock's map. She probably should have tried to hold off for at least a day, but her night has been...
She needs to be out of that big, rambling mansion. It's full of ghosts.
She checks the location again, because the house she finds herself standing in front of is a surprise. It doesn't seem like it belongs in this place. Which isn't really all that strange, is it?
But she's in the right place. She's still intoxicated, yes, but not enough to be unable to read a map. She reaches out and rings the bell. Then she waits. She doesn't even try the door. A location is not blanket permission. She won't push.
It's only thanks to the House informing him that someone was approaching that Spock's downstairs to meet her in time. He doesn't question how it knows that Uhura's there to see him and not one of the few others living inside. Given his last run-in with its insectoid surveillance cameras, he has a few ideas already.
The door opens the moment she rinds the bell, despite him still closing the gap between the stairway and the entrance at the time. It isn't something new to either of them, the idea of automatic doors, so he doesn't bother to try and explain it once he's there.
"Nyota." Not Uhura. Not now. He knows exactly why she's there, and it was for that very reason that he was willing to send her the information in the first place. After all she's done for him over the years, he wants to be able to do something in return.
Uhura jumps a tiny bit when the door opens. She's also surprised to see Spock standing so far away from it. It must say something that she's gotten so used to having to open them manually. "Hey. I--" She tries to smile a little, like she's teasing him. "Is it too soon to take you up on that offer?" She really hopes he won't say no. She can't handle it if he says no right now. She doesn't know where she'll go. Not back to the mansion. She rests her hand on the door-frame and looks at him. 'Invite me in. Please please please invite me in.'
"My room is upstairs." He knows he should be offering her something to eat or drink first. That the House would prefer things that way. But it's a question he's going to leave until they're hidden away from prying eyes, for both of their sakes. The simple fact she's there so soon means that Gaila's arrival is affecting her more than she's let on so far. He wants to give her a safe haven to let herself go.
"We won't be disturbed there." He never is normally.
'Close enough.' Uhura walks in and right up to him, right into his personal space, because she needs this tonight. "That sounds perfect right now." She just wants to be with him, with him and without everyone else. She wants to talk, and she's not even sure about what - she doesn't know if she wants to pretend that Gaila isn't here or talk about what it means that she is. She probably won't know until she opens her mouth. This is good, though. This is comforting and familiar. Spock is a constant. The most constant thing in her life.
There's a few moments where that intrusion in to his personal space catches him off-guard. He isn't used to Uhura being that forward with him unless it's as an attempt at offering him support. But he's quick to push through it, his hand brushing her arm briefly, before he's quietly leading the way up the stairs and toward his room tucked away on the first floor to give them the privacy that they both need.
His room itself isn't quite as plain as his room at the mansion had been. Between the table covered with electronics and the screen cutting off one corner, it could almost be considered messy compared to his usual standards. But everything is there for a set reason, and he doesn't plan on changing a thing. There also happens to be a significant lack of places to sit; a testament to the fact that he doesn't invite others in to his room at all.
She doesn't say anything until they get inside. She looks around the room, notices that it looks lived in. More lived in than his room at the mansion when she took it over. She'll read too much into this, she's sure. But later.
Right now she just sits down on the bed, for lack of a better place. The room is warm, it smells nice, she wants to be here. She wants to be here because it's not there. Uhura takes a deep breath and runs her hands through her hair, leaning forward until her elbows are braced on her knees. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."
She wouldn't admit that to him under normal circumstances. She's supposed to have the answers when it comes to the messy human emotion stuff. But this is part of it. Not knowing what to do about being human is part of being human.
He doesn't say anything to that, knowing that any suggestions he could give would only fall flat. His way of dealing with his emotions has always differed from Uhura's, and likely always will. Instead, he simple crosses over to take a seat alongside her, taking a few moments too long to finally press his leg against hers. It isn't much, but it's a display of support for the time being.
"You have a right to feel anything you wish." That's the one thing he's certain of. Humans feel in ways that he can't quite understand, and he doesn't wish to. But he knows that they need that ability to function. They don't control themselves the way Vulcans do, and to treat her otherwise would be unfair.
She tips over slowly until her side is pressed against his. She needs the contact, the comfort. She needs him right now. "Gaila... she's dead." Uhura holds up her hand to stall whatever answer he has for that. "And I know what you're thinking. She's not dead because she's been taken from a point in her timeline before the Farragut dropped out of warp and so she's alive, but... she's dead. We saw the wreckage. I read the reports. I packed up all her things and sent them to her clan sisters. I-- I slept in her bed every night until it sopped smelling like her and started to smell like me instead. I cried and I shouted and I broke things and I... moved on. I miss her every day, but I kept on living, and now-- this--" She shakes her head, turns her face into his arm and breathes deeply. "Everything hurts. I don't know why I can't just be happy."
"In our time, yes, she's dead, and you've grieved for her the way you thought best. But while she is here, she remains alive, and likely confused by your reactions toward her." He stops there for a moment, looking down at Uhura for a long moment. Eventually, that arm shifts, reaching around to rest his hand on her opposite hip. It's an invite for her to get as close as she needs. "You are the one here she is closest to. While it may be...difficult for you, your presence will aid her far more than anybody else's could."
It's an invite he may regret, because she's turning into his side now, wrapping her arms around him, hands fisting in his sweater, legs tucking up, curling in on herself and over his lap. She knows he's right, and that she'll go back and apologize and be there for Gaila the way the Orion deserves, the way she's supposed to be there for her best friend.
But tonight? She feels raw and naked and guilty beyond measure. "I was supposed to be on that ship with her," she whispers. It's something she hasn't said out loud, not to anyone. But now Gaila is here and Uhura can't ignore it. "If I hadn't found you, if you had stood your ground..." So many little things that should have gone differently. "I was supposed to die that day. I should have been there with her." Her grief is laced through every syllable she speaks. "You saved my life, and I didn't save hers."
Unsure of quite what to do, Spock just sits there silently for a few moments, a part of him wanting to slide her back off his lap and to the bed instead. There's only a certain amount of contact that he's comfortable with, and this has crossed that line.
But he doesn't. After those moments pass, he instead rests a hand against the small of her back, sitting there stiffly. He may not be happy with their positioning, but it's Uhura's comfort that takes first place right then. She's the one suffering, thanks to Gaila's appearance.
"You were each on your allocated ships. You are not to blame for her death. Nero is."
Uhura feels the tension in his body, feels the discomfort, and knows she should back off, she really does. She knows she should, but she can't. She can't let go of this pale and pathetic comfort. She doesn't know where else to get it, and that's just sad. "I knew you'd say something like that." She manages the tiniest little laugh, and she's not sure how. She knew he'd be logical about it, cut and dry and close the door. It's why she's never shared these thoughts with him before, why she's never shared them with anyone. But now they're here and she can't ignore it any more.
She needs to be out of that big, rambling mansion. It's full of ghosts.
She checks the location again, because the house she finds herself standing in front of is a surprise. It doesn't seem like it belongs in this place. Which isn't really all that strange, is it?
But she's in the right place. She's still intoxicated, yes, but not enough to be unable to read a map. She reaches out and rings the bell. Then she waits. She doesn't even try the door. A location is not blanket permission. She won't push.
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The door opens the moment she rinds the bell, despite him still closing the gap between the stairway and the entrance at the time. It isn't something new to either of them, the idea of automatic doors, so he doesn't bother to try and explain it once he's there.
"Nyota." Not Uhura. Not now. He knows exactly why she's there, and it was for that very reason that he was willing to send her the information in the first place. After all she's done for him over the years, he wants to be able to do something in return.
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"We won't be disturbed there." He never is normally.
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His room itself isn't quite as plain as his room at the mansion had been. Between the table covered with electronics and the screen cutting off one corner, it could almost be considered messy compared to his usual standards. But everything is there for a set reason, and he doesn't plan on changing a thing. There also happens to be a significant lack of places to sit; a testament to the fact that he doesn't invite others in to his room at all.
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Right now she just sits down on the bed, for lack of a better place. The room is warm, it smells nice, she wants to be here. She wants to be here because it's not there. Uhura takes a deep breath and runs her hands through her hair, leaning forward until her elbows are braced on her knees. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."
She wouldn't admit that to him under normal circumstances. She's supposed to have the answers when it comes to the messy human emotion stuff. But this is part of it. Not knowing what to do about being human is part of being human.
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"You have a right to feel anything you wish." That's the one thing he's certain of. Humans feel in ways that he can't quite understand, and he doesn't wish to. But he knows that they need that ability to function. They don't control themselves the way Vulcans do, and to treat her otherwise would be unfair.
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But tonight? She feels raw and naked and guilty beyond measure. "I was supposed to be on that ship with her," she whispers. It's something she hasn't said out loud, not to anyone. But now Gaila is here and Uhura can't ignore it. "If I hadn't found you, if you had stood your ground..." So many little things that should have gone differently. "I was supposed to die that day. I should have been there with her." Her grief is laced through every syllable she speaks. "You saved my life, and I didn't save hers."
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But he doesn't. After those moments pass, he instead rests a hand against the small of her back, sitting there stiffly. He may not be happy with their positioning, but it's Uhura's comfort that takes first place right then. She's the one suffering, thanks to Gaila's appearance.
"You were each on your allocated ships. You are not to blame for her death. Nero is."
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