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The first time he set eyes on the human male, he had never thought they would be destined for greatness. He seemed broken, beaten, bruised. His blue irises never shone to their potential, his smile never really reaching his eyes. He may have had an exciteable exterior, but everyone knew that inside it just wasn't that way, it could never be that way.
He was broken.
This human, this beautiful human, did not deserve his past life. He deserved better, that of which he would never be able to give him. He wasn't emotional, he wasn't good enough for him.
He needed much more, much better.
The first time they mind-melded, he pulled away from this human due to the sheer harshness of those memories, those times of being beaten. He could not fathom why someone would hurt another like so. He felt the urge to bring him close, to tell him everything was okay now.
He felt.
The first time they kissed, the human never thought anyone could love someone so broken. His assumptions were wrong as he stared at a set of brown eyes that conveyed nothing but utter affection for this brokan man, leaning in closer to seal his lips in a kiss. It was the most logical thing he could think of.
He was happy.
The first time he cried in front of him, he was behind a glass. His human had been unprotected from radiation for too long.
"I'm scared, Spock... help me not be... how do you choose not to feel?"
"I do not know. Right now, I am failing."
"I wanted you to know why I couldn't let you die... Why I went back for you..."
"...Because you are my freind."
The feeling of glass between their hands would be the last thing he ever felt, the last thing he would ever do with this alien.
He watched as his hand fell from the glass, tears streaming down his cheeks.
The last time he ever spoke with James Tiberius Kirk, he was unable to say he loved him.