I Cannot Help but Be Human
You're Not Fine
Nyota finds me in my quarters. I look up as the door closes behind her. With the exception of me, she is the only person the computer will allow to enter without requesting authorization from myself. Perhaps I should consider changing that. Perhaps not. I shall think on it.
One look at her face tells me all I need to know. Part of her expression screams of course. Of course she would find me here. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek, feeling a little stupid for not checking my quarters first. I want to tell her this isn’t the case; that she’s not in the least bit stupid. Anybody would assume a ship’s First Officer to be on the Bridge. I do not open my mouth. Nyota knows she is not stupid, she is only doubting herself for a moment, kicking herself as I have seen humans do in the past. Her feelings of inadequacy are eclipsed by something else, something bigger. You can see it in her eyes. They are filled with concern. They are brimming with it. Concern for me.
I watch as her gaze flickers from me and to the bed across the room. It is made. It is neat, tidy, but that is not of importance. What is important is that the bed does not look as though it has been slept in. And it has not, not for days. Once again her gaze finds me. I am sat in a chair in a fashion that she, and anybody else on this ship for that matter, would consider unspockish. My back is slumped, my knees drawn to my chest. It has struck me on more than one occasion that despair has the most profound effects. Even small things like sitting properly become too much.
She walks over to me and bends to plant a kiss on the corner of my mouth. I do not react. Her brow furrows, “Spock?”
“I am fine,” I tell her. It is a lie. She knows damn well it is a lie. I am losing my ability to choose how to feel. I cannot block this out, not constantly at least. I will be fine for weeks at a time and then this… this washes over me, it breaches my defences and floods over me and I cannot help but feel. I cannot help but be entirely human for a time. We discussed it the last time it happened. I do not see the point in repeating a conversation we already had in the past so I lie to her even though I know she will not buy it.
She looks at me and shakes her head. “No,” she tells me. She perches herself on the arm of my chair and places a hand on the back of my neck. “You’re not fine.”
One look at her face tells me all I need to know. Part of her expression screams of course. Of course she would find me here. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek, feeling a little stupid for not checking my quarters first. I want to tell her this isn’t the case; that she’s not in the least bit stupid. Anybody would assume a ship’s First Officer to be on the Bridge. I do not open my mouth. Nyota knows she is not stupid, she is only doubting herself for a moment, kicking herself as I have seen humans do in the past. Her feelings of inadequacy are eclipsed by something else, something bigger. You can see it in her eyes. They are filled with concern. They are brimming with it. Concern for me.
I watch as her gaze flickers from me and to the bed across the room. It is made. It is neat, tidy, but that is not of importance. What is important is that the bed does not look as though it has been slept in. And it has not, not for days. Once again her gaze finds me. I am sat in a chair in a fashion that she, and anybody else on this ship for that matter, would consider unspockish. My back is slumped, my knees drawn to my chest. It has struck me on more than one occasion that despair has the most profound effects. Even small things like sitting properly become too much.
She walks over to me and bends to plant a kiss on the corner of my mouth. I do not react. Her brow furrows, “Spock?”
“I am fine,” I tell her. It is a lie. She knows damn well it is a lie. I am losing my ability to choose how to feel. I cannot block this out, not constantly at least. I will be fine for weeks at a time and then this… this washes over me, it breaches my defences and floods over me and I cannot help but feel. I cannot help but be entirely human for a time. We discussed it the last time it happened. I do not see the point in repeating a conversation we already had in the past so I lie to her even though I know she will not buy it.
She looks at me and shakes her head. “No,” she tells me. She perches herself on the arm of my chair and places a hand on the back of my neck. “You’re not fine.”