wrapped in darkness and silence
Title: wrapped in darkness and silence
Rating: PG
Summary: Spock mourns the loss of a bond, but finds that the right person will heal the deepest hurt
Warnings: spoilers for Star Trek XI, mention of character death, Kirk/Spock slash
Word Count: exactly 1010 (in Word)
A/N: I apologize to Bones for stealing his quote, it seemed to fit ;)
When all sound has disappeared, it stands to reason that what is left behind is silence.
There was silence within his mind, a silence that thundered through him. Loud, so much louder than the quiet touch that had filled him for as long as he could remember. Quite illogical, he knew. How could silence roar? How could silence howl? His ever-efficient mind failed to supply answers to these questions burning within him. It was impossible for silence to provide such an all-encompassing uproar as now ripped through him - yet, it did.
To outside perception, Spock was calm and collected as always, his emotions well-moderated and controlled. None of his inner turmoil spilled to the surface as it raged, well-confined, behind unyielding shields of life-long training. Only his eyes, his very human eyes, betrayed a glimmer of emotion at times, but the same training with its roots in childhood taunts had long since taught him when to avert his eyes to prevent detection of any emotional display. The deafening silence was his and only his to know about, and the propriety that came with his heritage forbade that he share what he experienced.
Where before his mind had been filled with hints of impressions, there was nothing now to sate his intellectual need for a mental exchange. While there had always been more the promise of sound rather than sound itself it had been fully sufficient to provide all he needed. Now, he no longer had the gentle hum of an open connection the existence of which had filled an additional need within him, one born from his half-human lineage. Deep within himself, Spock acknowledged, lay the emotional longing for companionship. Bereft of the link that should have remained within him until its intensity could be transferred to the bond with another, Spock was left with only silence.
In the silence, he was alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When all that was linked to light has vanished, only darkness remains.
It was highly illogical to associate the loss of a link with the disappearance of the sun’s very light. Spock was well aware of that fact, and yet, he allowed himself this indulgence as he set aside logic momentarily, if only in the privacy of his own mind.
The link that had been eradicated had not been founded in logic or rational thought. Its support as well as its strength had been based on the same emotions that lived within the human half of his soul. Subdued as it may be by the tempering alliance with its Vulcan counterpart, it nevertheless was very real within him. As such, denying it would result only in falsehoods and perception.
In a prohibitive climate as was prevalent on Vulcan, logic dictated that the natives of such a planet learned during evolution not to linger unduly under their sun’s potentially harmful rays and in the heat it generated. It was reasonable to utilize shelter where it presented itself and not seek out activities that would require a prolonged exposure to sunlight. Humans, on the other hand, did not restrict themselves solely to logic, prohibitive climate or not.
His father’s house in Shi’Kar had been kept mostly Vulcan once the decision had been made to raise Spock following Vulcan principles. One structural addendum though, put in a few years earlier at Amanda’s request, had not been eliminated, and so, the sun-terrace - his mother’s sun-terrace - had become very closely linked to his human mother in Spock’s mind. It was where she had introduced her son to the aesthetics of a sunrise, or the pleasant contentment that came with a few well-earned moments of rest in the dry heat of Vulcan’s days.
She had shown him the sun in its beauty and the comfort its steady presence could provide. And now that she was gone, he couldn’t help but reflect on how, by association, the very sunshine had been taken from him, leaving him with only darkness.
In the darkness, he felt abandoned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With the warmth of touch gone, coldness holds sway.
Casual touch was not part of Vulcan society - a race of reserved touch telepaths did not abide by chancing the careless exchange of personal insights. Thus, convention had long since interdicted such contact. Interactions based on repressed emotion didn’t warrant undue physicality in any case. Humans oftentimes found the sparsity of touches vexing. To his human half, it might have proven challenging - had not his mother provided a sufficient amount of touch to keep his need satiated.
But now, she was gone, and with her, the whispering childhood bond in his mind, the sun-terrace upon which he had always been able to envision her and the physical touches she had bestowed upon him.
In the absence of touch, a bone-deep coldness descended upon him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“There’s something wrong with Spock. He’s too .. closed off.” The tone of Jim’s voice brooked no disagreement but Bones had never been one to take hints well.
“What d’ya mean, ‘closed off’? Par for the course for the green-blooded ..” Leonard drawled.
But Jim had already stopped listening, lost in thought until a frown indicated that he had come upon a conclusion he didn’t much like. “That’s it! You’re a genius, Bones!”
“…?”
“Thanks.” A clap on the shoulder, and Jim was gone, a man on a mission.
The doctor’s features betrayed confusion. “.. what?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
’wrapped in darkness and silence’
In the silence, Spock was alone.
Except that he wasn’t. For there was one who filled the silence with new intellectual challenges, new promises, a previously unknown companionship.
In the darkness, Spock felt abandoned.
Except that he wasn’t. For there was one whose smile rivaled the sun, whose care-free laughter re-ignited its shine.
In the absence of touch, a bone-deep coldness descended upon Spock.
Except that the cold was dispelled by one who touched in unobtrusive abandon - for teasing, in friendship .. and eventually, with love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James Kirk didn’t accept no-win scenarios, a fact he proved night after night when he wrapped Spock in his embrace and drove away the darkness and silence as only he could.
Rating: PG
Summary: Spock mourns the loss of a bond, but finds that the right person will heal the deepest hurt
Warnings: spoilers for Star Trek XI, mention of character death, Kirk/Spock slash
Word Count: exactly 1010 (in Word)
A/N: I apologize to Bones for stealing his quote, it seemed to fit ;)
When all sound has disappeared, it stands to reason that what is left behind is silence.
There was silence within his mind, a silence that thundered through him. Loud, so much louder than the quiet touch that had filled him for as long as he could remember. Quite illogical, he knew. How could silence roar? How could silence howl? His ever-efficient mind failed to supply answers to these questions burning within him. It was impossible for silence to provide such an all-encompassing uproar as now ripped through him - yet, it did.
To outside perception, Spock was calm and collected as always, his emotions well-moderated and controlled. None of his inner turmoil spilled to the surface as it raged, well-confined, behind unyielding shields of life-long training. Only his eyes, his very human eyes, betrayed a glimmer of emotion at times, but the same training with its roots in childhood taunts had long since taught him when to avert his eyes to prevent detection of any emotional display. The deafening silence was his and only his to know about, and the propriety that came with his heritage forbade that he share what he experienced.
Where before his mind had been filled with hints of impressions, there was nothing now to sate his intellectual need for a mental exchange. While there had always been more the promise of sound rather than sound itself it had been fully sufficient to provide all he needed. Now, he no longer had the gentle hum of an open connection the existence of which had filled an additional need within him, one born from his half-human lineage. Deep within himself, Spock acknowledged, lay the emotional longing for companionship. Bereft of the link that should have remained within him until its intensity could be transferred to the bond with another, Spock was left with only silence.
In the silence, he was alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When all that was linked to light has vanished, only darkness remains.
It was highly illogical to associate the loss of a link with the disappearance of the sun’s very light. Spock was well aware of that fact, and yet, he allowed himself this indulgence as he set aside logic momentarily, if only in the privacy of his own mind.
The link that had been eradicated had not been founded in logic or rational thought. Its support as well as its strength had been based on the same emotions that lived within the human half of his soul. Subdued as it may be by the tempering alliance with its Vulcan counterpart, it nevertheless was very real within him. As such, denying it would result only in falsehoods and perception.
In a prohibitive climate as was prevalent on Vulcan, logic dictated that the natives of such a planet learned during evolution not to linger unduly under their sun’s potentially harmful rays and in the heat it generated. It was reasonable to utilize shelter where it presented itself and not seek out activities that would require a prolonged exposure to sunlight. Humans, on the other hand, did not restrict themselves solely to logic, prohibitive climate or not.
His father’s house in Shi’Kar had been kept mostly Vulcan once the decision had been made to raise Spock following Vulcan principles. One structural addendum though, put in a few years earlier at Amanda’s request, had not been eliminated, and so, the sun-terrace - his mother’s sun-terrace - had become very closely linked to his human mother in Spock’s mind. It was where she had introduced her son to the aesthetics of a sunrise, or the pleasant contentment that came with a few well-earned moments of rest in the dry heat of Vulcan’s days.
She had shown him the sun in its beauty and the comfort its steady presence could provide. And now that she was gone, he couldn’t help but reflect on how, by association, the very sunshine had been taken from him, leaving him with only darkness.
In the darkness, he felt abandoned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With the warmth of touch gone, coldness holds sway.
Casual touch was not part of Vulcan society - a race of reserved touch telepaths did not abide by chancing the careless exchange of personal insights. Thus, convention had long since interdicted such contact. Interactions based on repressed emotion didn’t warrant undue physicality in any case. Humans oftentimes found the sparsity of touches vexing. To his human half, it might have proven challenging - had not his mother provided a sufficient amount of touch to keep his need satiated.
But now, she was gone, and with her, the whispering childhood bond in his mind, the sun-terrace upon which he had always been able to envision her and the physical touches she had bestowed upon him.
In the absence of touch, a bone-deep coldness descended upon him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“There’s something wrong with Spock. He’s too .. closed off.” The tone of Jim’s voice brooked no disagreement but Bones had never been one to take hints well.
“What d’ya mean, ‘closed off’? Par for the course for the green-blooded ..” Leonard drawled.
But Jim had already stopped listening, lost in thought until a frown indicated that he had come upon a conclusion he didn’t much like. “That’s it! You’re a genius, Bones!”
“…?”
“Thanks.” A clap on the shoulder, and Jim was gone, a man on a mission.
The doctor’s features betrayed confusion. “.. what?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
’wrapped in darkness and silence’
In the silence, Spock was alone.
Except that he wasn’t. For there was one who filled the silence with new intellectual challenges, new promises, a previously unknown companionship.
In the darkness, Spock felt abandoned.
Except that he wasn’t. For there was one whose smile rivaled the sun, whose care-free laughter re-ignited its shine.
In the absence of touch, a bone-deep coldness descended upon Spock.
Except that the cold was dispelled by one who touched in unobtrusive abandon - for teasing, in friendship .. and eventually, with love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James Kirk didn’t accept no-win scenarios, a fact he proved night after night when he wrapped Spock in his embrace and drove away the darkness and silence as only he could.