Work Text:
Spock POV
I am ashamed to admit it, even to myself, that I felt fear today, for the first time since I was a child. For a brief moment, I thought that Jim had been killed. By either falling rocks or the creature, I did not know. But the surge of dread I felt throughout my whole body is not easy to forget... as much as I would like to. For that brief moment, the intense emotion was too overwhelming to suppress as I called his name. Jim has been in danger many times before, but it has not provoked this reaction in me. I have been over in my mind all the possible reasons for this highly emotional response - to no avail. I may be becoming more sensitive to my human half, after associating with them for so long... No. Not just the association with humans. Only one seems to affect me ... Jim. After the relief that he was uninjured, I felt burdened with the sudden fear I experienced. The weight of that burden then depleted any gladness of that moment. I felt disquiet in the situation and unsettled at the possible meaning behind these emotions.
Was it only the fear that my friend could be gone in an instance? Yes, and yet there is a deeper question formed within me. For how long has it been scratching away in the recesses of my subconscious? I do not wish to know. Its mere existence threatens my entire personhood, my identity as a Vulcan. Yet, I am curious - how could it happen so naturally? Physiologically my responses to certain stimuli appeared like that of someone fully human. When I heard his voice again, relief washed over me. The tension in my shoulders relaxed. When he smiled at me again, I fought the urge to smile back. This shocked me. As I rarely experience this conflict, smiling doesn't come naturally to me. And somehow, he forces this conflict to arise within me. Then he had the audacity to try and send me away from his side, why? Was he afraid for me? Why should he be… I fear again, that my response was inexplicably human, with the aid of probability, but still… I felt upset at the thought of not being there to protect him. This could be seen as commonplace but I have not felt it in this capacity before, such rage, such indignation; to actually talk back against his order… Was I only speaking out of concern for the success of the mission? Somehow I am at a loss.
Then another striking event occurred. He surprised me in his change of attitude toward the creature. I believed he was making the only choice he could, to kill it, and protect everyone on the planet. But he proved me wrong. Though something I would not acknowledge to him. After I expressed a lament that we could not study the creature, I had no hope for an alternative. I cannot help but wonder if I had any influence on his resistance to shoot the creature. I cannot know. But his show of mercy was unexpected and of course more productive. The odd feeling it produced also surprised me. Something akin to pride swelled within me to see him make the situation beneficial to all parties, and without violence. It is rarely achievable but Jim does it well.
What right did I have this pride? He was a captain doing his duty. I am relieved that he could spare the Horta any more pain, not only that but he healed it and helped fight for its habitat. It was not only logical but admirable. I feel shame for bringing unnecessary emotionalism into it. Yet, and curiously, the feeling cannot be easily dissuaded. The proof of the very qualities in an officer and dare I say, a man, that I admire and respect - shown in him, today. Proof of his caring nature, his open mind, and his choice to do a merciful act over the safeguarding of his own life. Paradoxical - yet strangely, most intriguing.
After I had ripped myself from the meld, I staggered toward the captain and in my delirium, I grasped onto him. He held me up, afraid too, for what damage could have happened to my mind. This is not an unusual concern, yet he seemed restrained in his emotion. Was he too, feeling something deeper? I felt self-conscious for falling onto him and this irritated me, that I should feel this way for no appropriate reason. I was made vulnerable after the mind meld; more susceptible to emotional influences. I felt shame that he could see me weakened. Normally I would not give thought to what humans think of me unless it affects a mission. But his intense gaze on me, produced for the first time, a desire to know what thought another might have in regard to me... It is an unusual phenomenon that requires further scrutiny. Yet the inquiry could prove too dangerous.
It has been a trying day…
Kirk POV
Captain's Personal log. Stardate 3196.1
Time never eases the guilt after a crewman dies at my command. Every time I ask myself, 'What could I have done?' I tell myself I am trained for this, but it doesn't make any difference to the pain. The dread that lingers into every new mission is there at the back of my mind.
As I strive for the win-win scenario every time, how many men will suffer for that ideal? Ironic when you are pursuing a harmonious outcome. And still, when I have achieved it, like today, a great outcome anyone could see, but it is the crew that paid the price. Not in the least Mr Spock, without whom the congenial pact between the Horta and the miners could not have been made. Again and again, I push him to the limit. Yet he never questions it, even when he has the right to. Although, when he stood up to me for the first time I was greatly amused. It is rare to see a Vulcan emote like that. But after all, he was right, I needed him there. But the guilt is still there too, he gives and I take... how long can a man live like that... either of us.
I hate to admit that he was right in the end. A peaceful resolution was right and we now have the knowledge of the Horta. I knew he was right at the time but I had to prioritise the safety of the miners and my crew. But he backed up my decision regardless. Damn him if he isn't loyal! Why? after admitting to killing the last creature of its kind. Was he merely feigning his support? I have a hard time believing that... he accepts the facts as they come. As must we all, but he is unwavering, even though he puts up with the most in this crew. But how many times have I put his life at risk, without a thought? It's part of the job, we risk our lives every day so why do I feel guilty about it now? I know I need him more than any of my officers. Like any captain needs their first officer. Surely... Perhaps it was the fear in his voice when he couldn't hear me. Would anyone else have heard it? His concern touched something inside me, it embarrassed me, like a fool. But why was I so crude in my response!? What drove me to try and relegate his distress to overreaction? I sensed his care for me and I shut it down! ...as if I was afraid of what could come of it... but what could - come if it...?
Computer. Delete log entry.
