Chapter Text
Chapter I
It's Hard To Be A Robot
I looked out at the stars from the observation deck. The ambient temperature on the star base was warm for typical earth temperature but the slight chill it gave me made the sore muscles from my surgery tighten; and the pain, though mostly subsided, was slightly more acute this evening due to that fact. I found myself at times turning up the temperature in my chambers making the room closer to Vulcan in atmosphere during my recovery.
“There you are!” Dr. M’Benga smiled at me as he approached.
“Greetings Doctor.”
“You left the party a little suddenly.” I had no idea how my leaving the party had been sudden “Not interested in socializing this evening? I can go if you would prefer to be in solitude”
I considered the situation for a brief moment. M’Benga was uniquely familiar with the Vulcan culture and I did not consider that I would have to follow the social construct of reassuring him that I was not seeking solitude if I required solitude for my own sake. I would not hurt his human sentiments by direct refusal of company. I did not however require solitude at this point nor did I find his specific presence objectionable in any way.
“I do not currently require solitude. I just….”
Here I faltered. Did I need to explain more to the doctor?
“Right then.” He stood for 2 seconds then thankfully continued. “Quite the view.”
I looked out at the deep dark space again. “Agreed.” I have grown more accustomed to human expressions that are approximations and not strictly necessary in what they called casual conversation.
“You seem to be recovering well.”
I know that humans consider this sort of comment not very personal, I however did not prefer to discuss such matters outside of the hospital wing. I glanced around for a moment and there were no other crew present. “I have recovered my mobility and there is minimal pain.”
M’Benga smiled warmly, “I'm glad to hear that.”
As the doctor who performed the surgery I could see how this could gratify the doctor.
“It worked out well didn't it, that I was on the space station so you could have the surgery here. If you request it you may also be able to get some shore leave. Since you did spend some of your shore leave in the hospital. I know Vulcan’s don't do a lot of vacationing but it might be nice to have some extra break time.”
“Perhaps” I considered telling him why I scheduled the surgery as I did and why I am desperately trying not to bring attention to the fact that I was even in the hospital. It was not entirely due to M’Benga’s expertise with Vulcans. But I don't know why, even with confidentiality protocols I don't want them to know my reasoning. So instead I ask the question that is weighing on me. “You haven't told anyone outside of Dr. McCoy of my ailment, have you doctor?”
“Certainly not.” This is reassuring. I know that humans can be false at times, but I do not think M'Benga is likely to violate medical privacy protocols. “I have only filed the requisite paperwork and discussed the matter with Dr. McCoy as needed. I mean you need not worry spock. If you wish to keep the surgery private there is no reason that it needs to be shared with anyone.” The look on his face was crumpled, similar to the human expression of pain. I realized that pain was not likely what he was feeling at the moment.
“Thank you.” I couldn't think of what else to say. I knew that the surgery was considered a minor one to correct a slight defect of an internal organ that was discovered on a recent medical exam. It was routinely done on Vulcan due to the organ causing many problems if not addressed and the doctors, both McCoy and M'Benga, were completely competent. When McCoy told me that he could actually do the surgery a bit sooner I had no misgivings of his competence. The reasoning I had followed to determine that my surgery be kept private had nothing to do with the severity or some notion of pride or shame. I wanted to put M’Benga at ease but was not certain how. “I am aware that my concern may seem peculiar to you, Vulcans value privacy in such matters.”
M’Benga’s face relaxed into a small smile. “I see.”
“I am satisfied that you have not told anybody else. The crew and the captain on the Enterprise need not know of such a minor issue.”
At this M’Benga produced a quizzical expression. “You don't even want the Captain to know? Surely Spock, you can see how even though you will be fit for duty by the time the Enterprise leaves port it may be logical to inform the captain of your recent medical state.” I realized I should not have mentioned the captain.
“Perhaps.” I looked away from the doctor back out to the stars. I did not know what else to say. There was a lot I had considered regarding if I would talk to Captain Kirk about the surgery and I could not tell him. I did not like the probable actions he would take given the current state of our relationship, or rather lack thereof. He was not in any way beholden to me to provide support or companionship.
Dr. M’Benga and I continued to discuss some items of shared interest briefly then exchanged human pleasantries expected for parting and he returned to the gathering.
It was not long before Dr. McCoy came to the observation deck with a drink in hand. Though his demeanor and xenophobic attitude are inappropriate I do not always avoid conversation with the doctor, using it as an opportunity to study such attitudes. He has rarely been able to actually disrupt any of my techniques for maintaining a calm state to any degree, unlike his good friend the captain who intrudes upon my mental state frequently.
“H’low spock.” He is obviously inebriated. “Are you all good?”
“I am not certain to what you are referring.” I realized he most likely meant the return of my health but I endeavored to elicit more accurate language from the doctor and determine his threshold for making adjustments for interspecies communication.
He set his drink down on a small table then sat in a chair that was facing the window. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed heavily. “I am too drunk for this!”
I did not push further to test him. “I am recovering well” I figured this would provoke no further queries and allow me to make my departure momentarily in a way that the human would not find unusual.
I was incorrect.
“Okay, I am going to shoot straight with you.” I was confused by the expression. “First, Jim and M’Benga got their panties in a bunch when you left the party that was just getting started. So, then they had a little tiff about who would come check on you. Jim wanted to but M’Banga convinced him to stay at the party, and he came to talk with you. When he came back to the party he assured Jim that you were just fine and then proceeded to pull me aside and beg me to come check on you. You said some bull about not letting anyone know about your surgery including the captain and he is worried about you. I told him I am not a therapist, but he said you needed a friend and someone who knows about the surgery so apparently that is me. Now can you tell me you are in no need of current assistance, or whatever so I can go back to the party?”
“Of course, I require no further assistance at this time.”
“Great,” McCoy moves to get up but falters and falls back into the seat “or maybe I am staying here for a few minutes.”
I have never been in a situation such as this. I wanted to leave but I sat down next to McCoy and moved his drink to another table out of his reach. He grumbled at this.
“So, since I am here you want to tell me why you are being so cagey about your surgery. M’Benga fails to see the logic in you keeping it from everyone you know.”
“I can't.” is all I manage to get out.
“Good, I don't need this high school drama.”
I sit silently for a few more minutes as McCoy sits eyelids drooping while I silently consider the doctor's label of what I am currently going through as high school drama. I do not think it qualifies as I am not an adolescent and I am not acting dramatically. Perhaps it is more the reaction my behavior has led to that the doctor finds dramatic. “I am inclined to agree that the doctor and that captain may be overly concerned given the situation.”
McCoy let out a small grumble that seemed to be an agreement. So I continued.
“If I do not have reason to share information regarding my medical information with someone it should be of no concern.” This was true but I knew there was more to my reasoning than simply that.
Twenty seconds passed as I ruminated on the reasoning for why I did not want to announce my medical problem. “I mean the captain only needs to know that I am fit for duty while I am on duty. He is not responsible for me or expected to even visit me in the hospital during a routine procedure. If I had needed to get the surgery while we were out in space I certainly would not expect him to stop his usual duties to even visit me.”
McCoy grumbled a little at this. “Well, he would visit you on his off time though.”
“Even if he knew, even if he visited me it would not matter.” Because I know I want so much more than that.
“Oh, there's the usual cold Vulcan logic.”
“Yes,” I return quickly, “it is logical that a captain, who has no special regard for me, would not take time out of his busy schedule to be by my bedside….”that sounded too intimate to me “during my recuperation.” I quickly added, doubting that McCoy was even lucid enough to register the pause.
I stood up and started pacing as I had become once again agitated by the thoughts. I needed Jim to not be aware of the surgery so that way when he was not there I would not feel upset, as I feel so deeply the crushing weight of his absence during my recovery. I feel that this gives him an excuse. Jim doesn't know, I don't want him to know because he is not bound to any responsibility of showing up. Even though I want him to want to be there. Voluntarily, not just as a matter of duty, or human societal expectations. But to want to be there as much as I want him there.
It was the conclusion I had come to and did not need to justify to this, this drunkard.
“I should not expect that the captain would be there.” I let out softly.
McCoy leaned forward a bit wobbly. “What?!”
I fix my gaze on the view out the window, the likelihood of him understanding this conversation and actually remembering it given his current state was remote. I want to unburden myself from all that I have been holding onto. “I…I don't want the captain to know because if he knew and did not respond in a way that showed a depth of… feeling equal to my own, if he was just stopping by for a few minutes and left, or sent a card as is human custom, it would, well it would disquiet my calm state. So I prefer to” long breath, I have rehearsed this part in my head enough times, “I prefer to not have that be a possibility. It is only logical given the current state in which I find myself in relation to the captain”
“Oh,” I hear McCoy moving in his seat and I turn to look. He straightens his posture as his eyes become more open and focused then he stands to go get his drink. “That's all.”
“What?” I am confused as I realize that I failed to consider the fact that humans can lie, and apparently McCoy is quite adept at fake inebriation.
McCoy sighs, “I understand Spock. It is difficult when we are not certain if another's feelings match our own. My diagnosis, love sick for your captain.”
I quickly lock into my more military stance and count to ten in my head. I realize it is too late to recant or revise my previous statement. “What are you going to do with this information?”
“Me, nothing, not my area. I will return to the party for a while, reassure M’Benga that your logic is as always sound, and keep my mouth shut.”
I can feel my mind becoming less agitated immediately. “Thank you. I am hoping that soon my feelings will pass as most do with some time and meditation.” I do not reveal that this method has been entirely unsuccessful so far.
McCoy nods, “I have been through this enough times to know that it always comes with challenges.” He looked sad and I tried to process his expression. “I am just curious how do you know Jim doesn't return your feelings?”
I had not considered that this would be a question McCoy would ask. I didn't particularly want to answer. “I have not seen his behavior as showing any specific regard for me.”
“Are you very familiar with Jim's behavior when attracted to another?”
“Well not particularly. I mean, from what I have seen in previous circumstances he is not particularly subtle. I think I would have noticed if he was…” I didn't have the words.
“Hitting on you?”
“Well not precisely, but I suppose it will suffice.”
“Well,” McCoy had a wrinkle in his brow. He seemed to want to say more but I could not fathom what. He stood there for a moment then the captain arrived.
“There you two are.” His voice was all exuberant and warm. The easy smile on his face. “You are missing all the fun. Come on back to the party.”
“I believe it is time for me to meditate, captain.”
“Jim, remember we are off duty now. How many times will I need to remind you Spock?”
“At least once more.” I say quietly, then I head back to my quarters for some meditation. This night, even without staying at the human party, has been overtaxing. I can't even look at the doctor as I exit.