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It had been a very bad day. An explosion in the engine room had left two engineers badly injured but Leonard had only been able to save one them. When he had finally allowed himself to leave the sickbay to his and Spock's quarters, he wanted to cry, rage and sleep for a week.
If Leonard could have slammed the door shut when arriving, he would have. Instead he paced around their room, Spock looking at him warily. Their bond was strong enough for Spock to know the feelings of guilt and self-doubt tormenting his spouse. He got up and replicated them some strong Vulcan tea while waiting for Leonard to calm enough to sit down. Placing the warm cup on the table, Spock kept his gaze on Leonard until his stubborn lover looked up at him.
"You are good at what you do," Spock said, his deep voice firm but gentle and his gaze full of empathy. "I am very proud of you and I love you."
Leonard drew him in a tight embrace and closed his eyes, breathing in the presence of his wonderful, strong and gentle Vulcan. Spock would take care of him. He would be alright.