Chrysalis

by Loren Leforce

Note: I've never posted a story to the net, but with yesterday's news, it seemed appropriate to throw this one out into the ether as is in remembrance. It's still a draft --- I've changed only the end of one sentence since I wrote it --- so any ideas for change and improvement are very much welcome. It's also kind of isolated. Other vignettes (thanks, Jo, for labeling it what it truly was) are planned to go along with it, but I have no idea when I'm going to get to them. This one just kind of popped out after my little anti-McCoy shout a few weeks ago.

Disclaimer: As always, Paramount/Viacom/et al own the characters.

Pairing: It's a tame story...K/S is implied.

The font (for any who get the original) is Georgia, which seemed the appropriate one to write it in. :)

Chrysalis

by Loren Leforce

Life sure does work in mysterious ways, though it's been my experience it's too often in ways you'd wish weren't true. Other times, it's pure miracle... makes you glad to be alive. And sometimes... like now... you just feel damn lucky to be in the right place at the right time, even if you weren't meant to be there.

I don't know, though... amazing that someone like that skinny, overgrown elf could think he was the very definition of ugly. Heard him with my own round ears... undesirable, unwanted, unworthy... especially of the love of one person in particular.

I know... I've called him names and given him a dickens of a time about his personality... or lack of one. But I just wanted to bring him out of his shell... help him see what he kept hidden inside was okay. Once I got a peek at the person imprisoned in the dark, I couldn't help it. Hell! I became obsessed!

Jim saw it, too... long before I did. The mighty starship captain's an old softie, though. Where I cracked a whip and stung, Jim smiled and petted... figuratively speaking. Sure, it got him farther with Spock than I ever could, but who... in the long run... hurt him the most? Spock didn't run off to become an emotionless monk because of me. No, sir!

Oh, I suppose I had something to do with it... hammering away at him... throwing his Human blood in his face any chance I got... accusing him of things I knew very well weren't true. Thinking back on it, I guess I was a little hard on him... maybe. Damn it! Someone had to or he'd have gone on the rest of his life without realizing half the person he could be.

Threw him in Jim's direction plenty... like a whipped puppy so Jim could look at him with those big eyes of his and make everything better... brought them closer, too. I just didn't stop to consider how much he might've already hated himself... or been conditioned to. It never crossed my mind. Didn't stop to understand how confused he really was, either. Still, it wasn't me who dealt the fatal blow.

The youngest admiral in the fleet did that just fine... all on his own. Love 'em and leave 'em Kirk to the very end.

Spock should've seen it coming, but he couldn't. After today, I don't know what blinded him more... his own self-doubts or love.

Knowing Spock, probably both and more. I'd feel sorry for him, but frankly, the man's got more gifts, more potential, than I'll ever have... in any arena. That's what makes it so hard to believe he can think the things he does about himself.

If Jim had truly known Spock half as well as everyone thought he did, it would never have happened.

Those damn rumors... anyone who didn't believe them had to have thought twice about it after Spock left. Just like something out of one of those old movies they've got preserved in some vault back on Earth. A lover's spat... a stupid misunderstanding so obvious to the audience you want to jump in and shake some sense into the characters... scream at them... but they'll never see it... then one of them runs away to be a nun or a priest, leaving the other miserable the rest of their life because they realized too late what the other person meant to them. Damn, but if it don't bring a tear to the eye every time, even when you know it's nothing but a bunch of cornball.

Well, that's exactly how it looked on the surface. Kirk's Vulcan disappeared almost to the moment we went into Earth orbit... no good-byes, no adieus, no fond farewells. Just gone... vanished... not to be heard from again. A promising career cut off without so much as a dying whisper, let alone an explanation.

No one could help but notice. Became downright impossible to ignore the longer time went, and like the poor sap in one of those movies, it dawned on Jim exactly what he'd lost. I'd have felt sorry for him, too, if he hadn't been such an idiot in the first place. An admiral... commanding an office with a desk as his center seat. What a stupid thing to do! If he'd known anything... ANYTHING... about himself, he'd never have done that, either. Jim-boy,

I did try to tell you...

Time is a great healer... or people like to think so anyway. Okay, I'll concede that it is... in some cases. Not in this one, though. Thank god for V'ger. Time would've destroyed these two. I see that now... better than ever.

I wish, I wish, I wish I could've been there at that grand moment when Spock walked onto that bridge... when he first caught sight of Jim... when Jim saw him. I wonder what went through their minds... their hearts. I can bet Jim's beat a little faster... don't need to go back to the monitor archives to see it for myself. Too bad Spock wasn't in uniform yet... expect his probably did, too, even if he still acted the cold bastard. No way seeing Jim Kirk could've NOT affected him... no way.

I bet something clicked, too, because it didn't take long for that old magic to come back... for Jim to relax... a little of the ice to melt off Spock... and the two of them to save the galaxy. I don't think that was ever in doubt once all the pieces were back in place. No, the question on all our minds was would they be able to save themselves.

I tell you... if I'd known what it was going to take to get inside that thick Vulcan skull, I'd have packed up my barbs and given up hope long ago. I could never have gone that far... far enough to take him to the brink of death and make him face up to what was important to him... to WHO was important to him. I wonder how much of his ordeal out in the desert was responsible and how much V'ger was the real reason he came running back. I was teasing... trying to shake him... when I told him it was lucky for him we happened to be going his way. I knew why the tension in that lounge was suffocating. The real convenience was that it happened to be Jim who called the party... make no mistake about that.

Ah, well... Sometimes in those old movies, the lost lover doesn't go off to a monastery. Sometimes, they die.

The look on Jim's face... even through the mask of that ghastly space suit... the way he cradled Spock's limp body close... reluctant to let go. He stayed in that sickbay... V'ger on the back burner... while we got Spock out of the suit and Chris immediately began the scans. Jim stood and watched... stared with complete abandon into that quiet, lifeless face... not caring that others saw the open emotion on his own face... emotion that left no confusion about how much Spock meant to him. Heartbreaking. All I could think was, "Fool!" My heart bled for him... it really did... but he'd thrown away so much for so little and the time had come to pay the piper. Regret is a harsh teacher.

There's one very wonderful thing about Spock, though... something that comes of his tight-lipped stoicism. Any deviation from it is an outrageous surprise... and he's full of them. I thought Chris was going to drop the scanner... and I'd've gladly personally paid for its replacement in exchange for the memory... when the seemingly unconscious Spock began to laugh. I could sympathize with her... it was almost frightening to hear him... unforced, relaxed, amused, and just a bit sad. Not Spock at all. We all gathered 'round, anxious to know what the hell was going on.

At that moment, I don't think anyone gave a thought to remember this was a Vulcan... a very private man with very little tolerance for anyone's prying. We were too shocked... the emergency too real and immediate. And I think there was something undeniably magnetic about Spock acting out of character... an attraction to the unabashed emotion on his face and in his voice as he spoke about what he'd seen.

"I should have known."

It's been hours since he uttered that lament. I've had time to reflect... and other things have happened.

"What should you have known?" Jim's answering words, pleading and strangely desperate.

Really. Just what was it Spock thought he should've known? What all really lay behind his statement? Was it only as he had said... that V'ger couldn't understand the simplest emotional concepts... that he had been unable to understand their saving grace himself? Or had there been more to it... something much deeper and much more personal... more specific? His reply certainly began on an intimate note... directed solely at one person. And there couldn't have been more witnesses to it than if they'd been there getting married.

To watch as Spock reached out... searching for Jim... taking his arm... his hand... If we'd all been hooked up to wall monitors, alarms would've gone off like a red alert klaxon. There was something deliciously voyeuristic in watching this simplest of gestures... erotic for being so rare and heartfelt.

But thank god there weren't any alarms to call attention to us because Jim sure bumped the heat up a few notches. Nothing out of the ordinary... nothing like a kiss... but it might as well've been.

We remained as oblivious of each other... those of us who stood there, mute and staring... as they were of us. Jim's answering hold on Spock's hand... placing his other atop it. No one needed any translation of what was wordlessly being spoken between them. Their eyes... the smiles... the affirming nods said it all.

Now, if Spock considers that a simple feeling...

It's been a fair while since I've heard from the Lady Amanda. I think it's time I said hello again. Maybe she can explain it to me.

Well, lord knows how far they'd've taken it if we hadn't been interrupted by a message from the bridge. If they'd proceeded... followed through as they did just a while ago... well, at least there wouldn't have been any more rumors.

It was late... late by a starship's artificial chronometry anyway. We'd called Spock back... Chris and me... after the emergency was over and Jim had had his little victory lap around the solar system. We'd let Spock go earlier, against our better judgement, but understanding it wouldn't have mattered what his condition was if V'ger destroyed us. Jim needed him... hell, we all needed him... to search for a solution. But now, we were wandering space, testing systems by letting them work off some time... something Spock didn't need to be around to do.

Neither did Jim, and like old times, he went straight to Spock's bedside. Worse than a kid with a sick pet... both of them! Nothing had changed in that respect. I knew it was useless to protest, but I also knew it was different this time. They needed to talk... needed the luxury of just being able to look at each other, for that matter. By then, Chris and I were satisfied that all Spock required was rest and time... to recover from the impact of two years surviving the Vulcan desert and the effects of melding with a consciousness that had flicked him across space like an ant at a picnic. Being with Jim again... well, time may be a healer, but it's got nothing on love.

Spock laughing. Spock in tears. That was all plenty shocking... and it made me uncomfortable as all get-out... but I never expected the hurt, the alienation, the self-loathing that manifested in the bitter voice I heard as I approached the room I had put Spock in. Of course I had known Jim would find his way here. I had known that what needed to be expressed between them needed no more witnesses and prepared for it by placing Spock in isolation. I indulged myself, banking on past friendship, to check in... to be certain of Spock... just in case they needed me.

Everyone turns to someone and asks, "who am I... what was I meant to be...is this all that I am... is there nothing more?"

Spock had been speaking about himself as much as about V'ger. To those closest to him... emotionally close... it was obvious. To me and Jim, who knew more about him and the past two years, it was agonizing... to know we had played a part in his needing to ask those questions and then left him with no one to turn to. We weren't responsible for the initial crisis... that had started the day he was born... but we had certainly helped it reach warp speed and done it in a way that begged the questions... by eroding what little self-esteem he had salvaged for himself.

In our eagerness to give him what we thought he needed... whether it was Jim's gentleness or my acid tongue... we were telling him he needed to change... that he wasn't good enough the way he was... that he couldn't make good decisions for himself.

It was the message Sarek sent out every time they disagreed. Amanda, T'Pring, T'Pau... he was surrounded by demands he could never possibly meet.

Only Jim had done something no one ever had. Jim had basically accepted him... the truest friend Spock had known. Like food to a starving man, Spock had grasped it and kept it close, feeding on it and gaining strength... until Jim accepted promotion.

Spock shows every indication of making an excellent captain... has for quite some time. For all I've needled him, I'd never dispute it... not even now. There's a natural leader beneath the follower... kind of like a butterfly waiting to emerge from its chrysalis... and combined with his intelligence and all he's learned from Jim... he isn't the best first officer in the fleet for nothing. Despite his distrust of himself and others on an emotional level, he works well with a crew. I'd go so far to say that, in some ways, he'll be better. He understands his resources... where the hidden strengths are in a crew... better than Jim, and ironically, he places more faith in them. He won't be a captain who has to go down with every landing party... not like Jim.

Of course, there was never any question in Jim's mind who should inherit the Enterprise or that Spock was more than ready for a command. And that was the problem. It was all in Jim's mind. He'd stopped listening to... or at least, stopped believing... Spock's protests that he didn't want to command. No one else deserved the Enterprise. No one else would take more care and pride in her. It no longer mattered what Spock wanted. Jim wouldn't hear anything... from anybody... that went against the vision he had for himself... and, unfortunately, for Spock. The banquet was over and Spock had been left to wonder where the bounty had gone.

He blamed the closest thing at hand... himself. After all, like all the others who were supposed to care, Jim had no faith in him and rejected him in the end... sure proof that it had to be something within himself that was wrong. All those people couldn't be wrong. Unable to change then anymore than he'd been able to for his father, Spock took the one logical course open to him... cease to feel. Faithlessness, unacceptance, bigotry, rejection, disappointment... none of it could touch him if he no longer felt the pain.

Now, everyone feels like that at some point... when we're struggling to feel like we belong... when relationships fail... when we're just plain fed up with bitching about our troubles. Sometimes we feel out of step with the world. Sometimes it would feel damn good not to feel. But Sp0ck... I don't know if it's just that anything Vulcan seems extreme to someone like me or if it's because he's carrying a second burden being Human, too... Spock takes it to a degree of artistry that's unmatched in my experience. He'd've been right at home in one of those weird religious orders in the Middle Ages... hairshirt, flagellation, denial of basic needs --- all of it... he's done it in some fashion or another as long as I've known him... and I had happily put it down to being some Vulcan thing. What the hell did I know about Vulcans, anyway? What did any non-Vulcan know?

Well... as Spock said... I should have known.

I should've known better than to take his explanations for fact. I should've known to find out the truth for myself... that extremism is not logical... that the torture was self-inflicted... that a woman like Amanda Grayson could never have kept a marriage of 40 years together and retained such loveliness of spirit or her humanity had Sarek had been as devoid of feeling as Spock wanted me to believe the Vulcans were. I should have known there was a deeper problem... that his parents were at the very heart of it... and I would've known had I been paying attention to the undercurrents at work... right under my very nose in my own sickbay! Jim saw it. Chris, too. Why didn't I?

So... just what is my excuse? Spock has the excuse of ignorance... Jim, ambition. What flaw in my character led me to turn a blind eye?

I could con myself into thinking it was that noble wish to see the real person... the Human, of course... I see that much now... freed from his Vulcan shackles. And it would be just that... a con. Was I jealous?

Possibly. Intimidated? Who wouldn't be, except someone like Jim. Should I have scolded myself as soundly as I did Chris for being drawn to him... for wanting to bask in his presence? Probably. Had I been thoughtless because I enjoyed watching him squirm... gloating over a victory at his expense... egging him on for the same thrill others derived from baiting an animal that could turn at any moment and kill? I hope not.

Oh, I saw plenty... but I missed a lot, too. I just don't know why. I'm not sure I want to know. Not that it matters now... not if I've learned a lesson... and I hope I have. No, it doesn't matter for the simple reason I couldn't have changed anything anyway. I'm not the one Spock needed... not before Gol... not after V'ger.

I stood just beyond the door, out of sight... hardly daring to breathe... and listened to them talk. I confess, it wasn't for medical reasons. It wasn't prurience, either. I was curious and concerned. I wanted to help... not hurt either of them anymore. They were the closest I had to a family.

And Jim hadn't been the only one to miss Spock... I'd missed him... missed them both so damn much in the intervening years. Now that I had them back, close... propriety wasn't an issue. Even as an outsider, I belonged to them... I belonged with them.

Sounds of comfort... sounds of love... words of accusation and forgiveness uttered in almost one and the same breath as the other joined in in a counterpoint of apology. I listened, enraptured, as desires deepened... as the bitterness of earlier was melting... sweetening... smooth and as addicting as fine chocolate.

Healing... wonderful thing to a doctor. I was hearing the sounds of healing. It would take time... there were so many wounds, real and imagined, that needed attention... so many obstacles to overcome and things to learn... but that would be exciting, too... for me as much as for them.

Almost as much as what I knew was beginning to happen on the other side of that wall... and the adrenalin rush of how in the hell I was going to get that door closed without being obvious... without sneaking a quick look...or two... or...

I may be as skinny as Spock... okay, skinnier... but then, gluttony has never been one of my vices. I like to savor things... partake slowly of all the feast has to offer... appreciating the different flavors... the nuances... the harmonies. It's the southern gentleman in my soul.

Having tasted of this... having time ahead to imagine all the different layers and textures that could be added... I had no wish to ruin the experience. Weakness will eventually get the better of me... I fully admit it... and one day... one night... I'll chance it and poke my nose where it doesn't belong.

For now, I'm happy... truly happy... for the first time since I came aboard. The kind of happiness that makes me feel silly and want to cry... like at those old movies... when the lovers rediscover each other and everything works out at the end. It's a happiness I'm not ashamed to feel... that I don't need to cover over out of a want to play it tough, even if I could. Spock's gentle laugh... no longer chilling... somehow in character as much as hearing him spout Vulcan philosophy or the square root of pi... it matched the lightness in my heart. I knew that for them, too, it would all work out.

And the rumors? Well, people love nothing so much as a good mystery.

-30-

From: "Loren LeForce" Cibola@Home.com