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Kirk thought the idea was great. He wondered why he hadn't asked to go to the lab with Spock earlier.
Their relationship moved to a slightly... different level a few months ago, but it was still difficult to find time, at least for simple communication. As soon as the captain and his first mate planned to spend the evening together, the next problems that the Enterprise got into were not long in coming.
Of course, observing an experiment with Spock was not the most exciting thing that Jim could come up with, but it was the only thing that didn't distract the head of the science department from his research.
Lost in thought, he almost bumped into Spock who had stopped. Imagining how many bruises he would have earned from meeting with a stiff back, Jim grunted, and lowered his gaze with keen interest, considering what they would work with. He didn't know anything about the experiment beforehand, and now the idea of inviting himself to the lab went from beautiful to catastrophic in a fraction of a second. Spock started to say something, but Jim couldn't hear him anymore.
Adrenaline rushed through his veins like red-hot nitrogen, his heart skipped a beat, and then almost choked on blood. He wanted to run away, at least to step back, but he froze, pinned to the floor by a wild primal horror. Cold sweat broke out on his back under the uniform. Goosebumps went through the skin, like hundreds of small paws, making him shudder and stiffen even more.
James Tiberius Kirk was incredibly brave, even sometimes reckless, as everyone thought. Of course, he wasn't devoid of ordinary human fears, such as the death of a loved one or his own. But he ran ahead when many stopped, climbed up while others stayed on the ground, looked into the face of danger without blinking, and was ready to sacrifice himself to save the crew.
That is why this completely childish phobia, in his opinion, has now caused much more shame than before — before the position of captain and the stereotypes that have surrounded his name And Kirk didn't know how the command would react to it. Commanders should not have irrational fears that could affect the mission.
Spiders. For as long as he could remember, he panicked even at the sight of these tiny creatures he was "lucky enough" to meet. And at first, it even seemed relatively normal. It's natural for children to be afraid of them. But when his childhood was over, and the fear didn't go away, breaking the image of a tough guy, he knew something was wrong. No matter how hard Jim tried to overcome this blind horror that turned him into an immovable statue, it was all in vain. In desperation, he even turned to some psychoanalyst, and after a few sessions he discarded this idea as completely useless.
And now he was standing in front of a large terrarium with several spiders of eye-catching colors of bright blue and mustard yellow flowers, each of them which was just monstrous in size, and trying to remember how to breathe.
Spock turned to the too-quiet captain, with a secret fear that he was bored of hearing about the peculiarities of the species, and fell silent. Jim froze in an unnatural, overly tense posture. His breathing quickened, and perspiration appeared on his temples, noticeable only to the Vulcan. The eyes, the brown color of which has now become even more saturated, widened and glazed over as they stared off into nothingness.
"Captain?" he called softly, not risking calling out loudly at once, so as not to aggravate the situation. Without waiting for any response, he called again:
"Jim," Spock touched his captain's too-tightly clenched hand that was practically glued to his torso. His fingers were suddenly burned with such a wave of foreign horror that the Vulcan involuntarily broke contact. He didn't usually read emotions like this, with a fleeting touch. And one could only guess what Kirk was thinking of right now to project such fear.
Carefully grasping the shoulder, hidden by a thick layer of fabric, Spock called again, gently shaking, and when Jim's gaze became a little more meaningful, he took him to the corner of the laboratory, to the table. Only when he was on the chair, he came to life a little and blinked. Some of the tension left the body, although it still seemed rigid.
"Captain, may I know the reason for this condition?" Spock, who decided not to sit down, looked down from above with attentive dark eyes. Kirk suddenly grabbed the Vulcan's uniform on his sides with his hands and buried his face in his stomach.
"I'm just really scared of spiders," he muttered in a strangled voice and chuckled mirthlessly.
Spock blinked. He took a quick look at the terrarium. He had heard that people have so-called "phobias", at one time he was even seriously interested in this topic, but he had never personally observed such a visual manifestation.
"You should have told me," Spock said reproachfully. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I had known. I apologize."
"I..." Jim wanted to justify himself somehow but changed his mind. "I'm sorry."
"We need to leave the lab. I'll walk you to your cabin, and then I'll call Dr. McCoy to examine you."
Jim's fingers tightened on the fabric. "No need for Bones, let's just stay like this for a while?" he was still pressing his forehead into Spock's stomach, which made his voice sound muffled.
Spock weightlessly stroked the other man's shoulders, feeling them relax, raised his hands to the golden hair, and buried his fingers in it. This simple action had always calmed them both in strange ways. There was silence.
"You know, I'm not going to have any life-changing breakthroughs anytime soon, but I'm gonna come back tomorrow to see these things again. Stay with me, okay?" Jim asked softly, but resolutely.
"Of course," Spock agreed easily. He could have argued, but he read up on ways to deal with phobias, and confronting them is a good start. And he'll look at anything with his captain if it makes him feel better.