The small quite flat that belongs to Christine Chapel and Spock was normally perfectly clean as it belongs to a Nurse and a Vulcan. So by default it was clean all the time. Today among the clean there is, on the counter in the kitchen, a green liquid spilt over the countertop and the floor below it. At the moment only one of the owners of the flat
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Immediately panicking, the bag gets tossed on the counter as Christine grabs a rolling pin. If he's hurt, someone's hurt him. There's no real logic applying itself to the situation for her: the building is well-secured, he is remarkably strong, she would have felt his duress through their bond. No, she just knows that's his blood and that's not good.
And then she checks the front rooms and can't find him and that's really not good, which is when tears start welling in her eyes. And then, she thinks to try calling out for him. "Spock, are you home?"
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In a moment, she'll be able to register more and properly take care of him, but for right now her mind is focused. "Oh, thank goodness," she breathes, face in the crook of his neck. "I was so worried."
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