Story [Multi-fandom] random prompt thread- updated 12/8/17! (Stranger Things cont'd)

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thanks, Nyota. I'm glad you enjoyed the set.
@Mira_Jade: I really like 'Super' and I'm glad you did too. Simple, cute, and to the point. But 'Wonder' took on a life of its own. So much fun. Thank you for staying tuned!
A/N: I never thought I'd use the term 'trigger warning', but here it is. This fic refers to a Columbine like shooting in an unknown area of the country. It is also in the wake of the tragedy that occurred in FL yesterday. There is nothing too strong, but it is the subject matter so keep that in mind. For me, 47 year me, Columbine, was unprecedented.It made no sense, but it's example has lead to that tragedy being more and more common and less and less shocking. It is sad. It is easy to talk about legislating weapons, but harder to think about changing our own behavior. Be loving. Be kind. Even in the face of the opposite.

Helpless

“Have you ever felt helpless?” Max asked, as she and Lucas shared a Saturday lunch at the 50 yard line of the middle school football field.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, about to expound on the African American experience, when he thought better of it. The question was not about him. It was clear there was something on her mind.

“Yeah,” he answered, seriously. “I have.”

“Of course, you have,” she said, suddenly tuning in to him. She reached out and touched his hand. “Sorry…that was dumb of me.”

The normally forceful and playful Max was not present. She was suddenly solemn and for a girl who regularly spoke her mind, she was having trouble getting to the point. He waited.

“There is nothing dumb about my Mad Max,” he replied with genuine feeling. “What helplessness are you talking about?”

“Have you ever heard about something so terrible that happened to people you don’t even know and yet there is nothing you can do about it?”

The normally forceful and playful Max was not present. She was suddenly solemn and for a girl who regularly spoke her mind, she was having trouble getting to the point.

“You mean like what the Nazis did to the Jews or what African Americans suffer in the Deep South?” he asked, hoping he was getting what she was after.

“I guess so,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Those were, and are terrible. But those are on such a larger scale. So much death, it’s hard to make it make sense. You know what I mean?”

Again, Lucas reminded himself that his wasn’t about him. “Yeah, I know that feeling, too. What happened, Max? What did you hear?”

“I talked to my Dad last night,” she said. “I love talking to him. But he shared something that happened back home, at the high school.

Lucas was intrigued, but the level melancholy and, he guessed, pain, he was in Max told him to continue listening.

He said there was a shooting. A bad one. Twelve students were killed. Twelve kids…like us. Shot dead.”

Lucas blinked as he absorbed the enormity of what she had just said. He looked at the ground as his brain processed the carnage it must have been.

“What?” he said, to say something, anything.

“That what I mean about helpless. A friend of mine was killed. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since we were in 4th grade, but she was my friend.”

Lucas got to his knees and reached for her, but it was awkward. “God, Max, I’m so sorry. A friend of yours? I thought you said you didn’t know the people.”

“That was just an example, Lucas,” she said, sadly.

He hugged her, however awkwardly, asking: “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay, but I’m not crying myself to sleep either,” she declared with a hint defiance. “Bottom line, I feel helpless to do anything. It’s so horrible. Apparently, the bastard who did it killed himself before anyone could get to him. Freaking coward!”

“For sure,” Lucas agreed. “I can’t believe that someone would do that at school. Kill their classmates? Middle School already sucks. I imagine High School will suck more. But, to bring a gun to school and start shooting people, that is messed up! The guy had to be crazy; had a screw loose or something.”

Max nodded quietly. “I’m still in shock. I can’t understand why this thing is hitting me so hard. I feel so edgy, but not angry if that makes sense. Like Anger is waiting for its turn, but Shock isn’t done yet. What if Will or Dustin or Mike, or El got shot? What if it was you…or me?”

Still kneeling in front of her, Lucas cupped her beautiful, freckled face in his hands. “I would never let that happen.”

“I know you mean that, Lucas,” she whispered. “But, what if it was out of your hands? What if you weren’t there? What if El got hit before she could hit back? She’s telekinetic, not telepathic. What if-”

Lucas pressed his lips to hers softly, but with enough pressure to change her focus. Breaking the short kiss, he said: “It’s okay, Max. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you. I know it hurts. I know you feel like there’s nothing you can do. I feel that way too. Kinda sucks when we’re the ones getting picked on. We’re the ones getting singled out. We’re the smart ones. But we’re the ones who have to be better.”

“That is”-she started.

“Pure golden wisdom, right?” he cut in.

“Not bad, Stalker,” she replied, kissing him back. “Not bad.”

“Not make light of this at all,” Lucas said, arching an eyebrow. “But if El had gotten the drop on that shooter, there would be only one dead person instead of twelve.”

Max smiled with just satisfaction. “Got that right, Mister.”

 

@brodiew -- I know exactly what you mean about Columbine being a momentous thing when it happened. It should have never ever been repeated. Thank you for tackling such a sensitive, hard subject so compassionately and candidly. I love that Max has someone to confide in and she and Lucas mutually care about each other so genuinely.

 

Thank you for the wonderful reviews, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha and @Mira_Jade! I've taken a break from Stranger Things and and moving back to a different ST, Star Trek: 2009. Writing the above was good because even with Stranger Things, I had to follow the inspiration. Lucas is not my favorite, but Max is and my inspiration has them as a package deal. I'm glad it made an impact.

A/N: Now, for something completely different...
In which brodiew writes Nyota and Leo on the road to a non canon place where their friendship is tested and their love for each other deepens, where brodiew hopes he is not continuing the write the same scene over and over again.

Far From Home

"How do you deal with the loneliness, Leo?" Nyota asked, her easy melancholy lacing the words.

"Kind of a heavy question before my first cup of coffee," McCoy responded, growling his order to the replicator. "Are you...feeling lonely?"

Nyota leaned against the bulkhead next to the replicator staring blankly at the whirl of energy that produced Leo's coffee. "I guess so."

"It's not like you to 'guess' anything, Nyota," McCoy said, turning from the replicator and heading for a table near the viewports. "What's going on?"

She walked with him, but lagged behind a step, dropping sulkily into the chair opposite his.

"The Captain-"

"I should have known he was involved," McCoy interjected. "What's he done now?"

Nyota looked up and a tired smile dawned on her smooth brown face. "Nothing. Well, something. He suggested I need shore leave. I think he's right."

McCoy huffed his approval of his friend's advice. "Will wonders never cease. Jim Kirk is starting to look out for his crew. But seriously, Nyota, is this about Spock or are you just homesick?"

"Not just homesick, Doctor," she said stressing the second and fourth words.

"Oh," McCoy replied, raising his eyebrows slowly. "It's doctor now, is it?"

"I'm sorry, Leo," she said, reaching out and touching his hand. "It's all of it, really. The break up with Spock was amicable for him, of course, but I'm still picking up the pieces. My mom is sick. Not bad, but still sick. I want to be with her. I think I just need some time away."

McCoy resisted the urge to remove his hand given the fact that he was her Doctor before he was her friend. His dilemma was determining which one she wanted to talk to.

"I'm not sure this is the proper place to talk about this. Should we go to my office?"

She waved a hand lazily in denial and removed her hand from his. She sunk further into the chair.

Stand Your Ground

"Have you told Spock that the break up has been harder on you than you expected?"

"Spock has other commitments, other duties," she said dejectedly. "He made his intentions clear. New Vulcan is his priority. Have you ever tried to change Spock's mind?"

"I've tried plenty of times to change that Vulcan's mind," McCoy replied. "My success rate is 0 for all of them. I even tried to change his mind about you."

Nyota perked up at that comment. "You what?"

"I talked to Spock about what a fool he was for letting you go."

"Did you call him a fool?" she asked, still shocked by his revelation.

"Of course!" McCoy said. "Fool, Foolish, foolhardy."

She cocked her head and asked: "Why did you do that?”

"Do what?" McCoy replied, noticing, but trying to bypass her concern. "Call him a fool? It's my favorite past time."

"No, Leo," she said, pointedly. "Why did you talk to him at all? And, why didn't you tell me?"

McCoy realized he had made a mistake of saying anything about the meeting with Spock. It had been volatile enough on his part that he was sure Spock would have mentioned it to her. Leave it the green blooded hobgoblin to keep that one to himself. But, given that it had happened, and for good reason, he wouldn't shy away from it and he would not apologize.

"I did it because I thought Spock was wrong," the doctor began. "It was shocking enough that you two were together in the first place. But two years on and he decides you are are no longer the most important thing in his life. You were wrecked when he broke it off with you. You were in much worse shape than the woman sitting in front of me. It took a lot of deliberation not to relieve you of duty at the time. When my friend takes an emotional beating, you can bet I'll have words for the person that did it."

She regarded him cooly. "But it wasn't your place, Leo. It was between Spock and I. Our relationship, or lack thereof, is none of your business."

McCoy shook his head slowly. "That's where you're wrong Nyota. Whether I'm your Doctor or your friend, you were compromised. I took steps, mistakenly or not, to make Spock see his error. But, Spock doesn't make mistakes. Or, so he implied. You may not believe me, but seeing you devastated like that hit me pretty hard. I could not imagine Spock willingly giving up such a prize."

Her fierce, admonishing features did not relax. “Such…a….prize? Do you mean to say that I am something to be won?”

McCoy glanced around the rec room to see if anyone had taken notice of them. Thankfully, the company was sparse and the room large enough that her voice had not carried.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” McCoy rebutted. “If you are feeling unworthy.”

Nyota slammed her fist on the table and rose to leave. McCoy took her hand and matched her hardened gaze. “Please sit down. I have more to say. I have more to confess. Understand?”

Nyota slowly eased back into her chair. “Go on.”

more to come...

 

Interesting conversation between McCoy and Nyota. I hope she gets Spock back

 

YES, BECAUSE. When you have found the one your heart beats in sync with, the one who nourishes your soul, anyone else is filling time and chasing after mirages.

 

@earlybird-obi-wan: Thanks for reading, earlybird. It remains to be seen.
@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Yes, Yes, the OTP must be retained.

A/N: I've written myself into a little corner here. How will Leo make Nyota see that he values her friendship even after dropping the bomb that he was in love with her during the Academy days? Stay tuned.

Bottled up

"Thank you. There was time, back at the Academy, when we first became friends, that I thought you and I might get together. I knew the age difference and all that, but I didn't care. I wanted it. I wanted you. But the time never seemed right. I had a full time job keeping Jim out of trouble and you were so driven. You were so serious and focused. I was still angry over Jenny so I guess the universe had other plans for us. And then there was Spock."

Nyota was silent, still chewing on his comment about her feeling unworthy. What did he mean? Now, he was dropping major bombs about feeling he has had for her. What was she supposed to do with that.

"You're in love with me?" she asked, apprehensively.

"Not any more," McCoy replied. "That ship sailed a long time ago. Spock killed it for good."

"What do you mean by 'killed it'?" she asked, suddenly interested in his emotional revelation.

"When I saw you with Spock, I knew my chance had flown the coop. You were already so soulful, but I could see the difference in you. That's all."

"You saw that I was happy?" she asked. "Is that what you mean?"

"That's it, exactly," he replied, calmly.

"Leo, no one new about my relationship with Spock until after the Narada."

"I think what you mean is that Jim didn't know until after the Narada."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say, Leo? Were you stalking me?"

McCoy shook his head more fervently. "For Heaven's sake, no!" he exclaimed. "But I'm not as blind as Jim is when it comes to women. He was focused on you, not you and Spock."

He noticed her shoulders relax and her grit of her teeth disolve into a frown. Her hand left her lap as she folded them on the table. She released a breath she had been holding.

"I came to you, Leo, with a problem of mine and you have somehow managed to make this about you."

McCoy was speechless.

Nyota looked at him expectantly.

"You can be a hard woman, Nyota," McCoy said, through a harsh chuckle. "Pigheaded and unyielding at times. Like right this minute. Be mad at Spock. Not me. Take some time if it will help you gain some peace and perspective. What I am telling you, and I get this is a shock, is that I was in love with you then. Not now. You are a friend I don't want to lose. Spock is your man. He needed to know that he was making a colossal mistake by leaving you behind. That's all I'm saying. And, if you want to judge me for having your back, go for it!"

 

Very candid admission.
Nyota is driven and focused, -- so like our dear, dear Hera. And yes, once Leonard got used to the idea that they weren't gonna be a thing, he just wanted her to be happy. And she was, with our oblivious Trek-style Thrawn (for brilliance)or Kanan for sheer not getting it quite right; i.e., needs someone to spell it out, -- this lady's right for you. Duh!

I know Nyota appreciates his caring and support.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: I'm glad a little redirect had the desired effect. I don't care that I'm posting daily on this one. It just keeps coming. I really hope it hits the right cord for you, Nyota!

Stalemate

Leo had left her there, staring at nothing, trying to determine how their conversation had gotten so heated. She searched her memory for a hint of Leo’s intentions when they were in the academy. They had become friends quickly, but they never crossed that line. In fact, Leo, as now, held his feelings close to the vest. She knew he was hurting in the wake of his divorce, but he never let it affect his studies and he never shared it with her. She remembered numerous occasions where he would listen to her go on and on. He knew she didn’t want to hear about Kirk and, given that they were good friends, he talked about little other than Academy and speculation about frontier medicine. It was hard to believe that all the while, he was pining for her in secret.

Nyota shook her head sadly. She was already lonely and she had just alienated the one source of comfort she could count on. Why had she lashed out at him? Duh, because she was overwhelmed and his revelation was just another log on the fire of her frayed psyche. But, it hadn’t been fair; what he said or how she reacted. So, she sat there, frozen in place, wanting to chase him down and apologize, yet still fragile enough to lash out again. Perhaps, she would send a message to Spock on New Vulcan. No, she didn’t want him to see her so out of sorts. She could try to fake it, but he would know. Spock was nothing, if not observant.

Her thoughts wandered to what it might have been like to be a fly on the wall when Leo confronted Spock. She had witnessed their verbal battles on numerous occasions, arguing over hunches versus hypotheses, emotions versus elucidations, and passion versus procedure. It was entertaining, except when it wasn’t. The only time she recalled a real collaboration was when the ship was in danger, when lives were in the balance. Differences went out the viewport in those instances and she would smile in gratitude to witness her two boys working as a team. She could almost see them at the science station, Leo with his hand on his hip pointing at the monitor as Spock, hands clasped behind his back leaned over and nodded his agreement. As much as they were oil and water, they were bound together, not by choice but by her. At least, they used to be.


Memories held dear/Memories best forgotten

An hour later, Nyota still hadn’t moved. Her reverie was consuming. She remembered backrubs Leo had given her and rough times when he held her hand and encouraged her. In retrospect, the Leo she saw was very different from the ‘Bones’ he gave Kirk. There was a sensitive side to him that was reserved for quiet times, but the face he put on for Kirk, and, in general, was of the gruff, no nonsense physician. He would smile at her, or shoot her a wink on the bridge and furrow his brow in the next instant to fire a barb at Spock or a quip to the captain.

She remembered a time or two when she caught him staring at her, but he had played it off a petite mal seizure. She had laughed and returned to her work, but those moments now made sense. He cared about her. Maybe more than he said. But he knew she loved Spock. And, he had set his ego aside long enough to give Spock a talking to that she imagined might have involved security. She laughed, despite herself. There had been no security. She would have heard. Yes, she should have heard. She should have heard about it from Spock. Why hadn’t he told her that Leo had come to see him? What reason would he have for keeping it a secret? Probably the same reason she had given Leo. It was none of her business. Leo’s plea had fallen on deaf ears and those beautiful ears had considered Leo’s outburst so irrational that it did not deserve a mention. My dear, foolish, love.

Spock’s departure had been…logical. The memory of it still seared her heart. He had foregone all emotion. It was as if he had performed the Kolinahr expressly for their separation. The devastating part of it was that he had not informed her and had given her no personal goodbye. For some ungodly reason, he had seen fit to cut the cord without warning. Odd to think of Spock as selfish. But, yes. He considered only himself. And, perhaps, that was what he needed to do to keep his composure. These were not new ruminations. But Leo had ripped them from her carefully placed compartment and exposed the wound anew. He hadn’t done it on purpose. But, he had done it none the less. She needed to go find him and apologize. In truth, she needed him to hold her hand through this rough spot and then she needed to go home. For a while, at least.

 

Nyota is becoming dearer and dearer and dearer to me than ever and that is SAYING SOMETHING. I love the honesty and thoroughness of her self-examination and the clarity of her realizations about Len and her "crazy overlogical" love.

I believe that if he was selfish in being impersonal, maybe he knew that if he even let a breath of what he wanted, HER, come through, he would never ever leave.



You're making me love them even more than I already do.

 

love how Nyota and Leo discuss and how Ny expresses her deepest thoughts

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: I'm am grateful to you, Nyota. Thank you for reading and leaving such nice reviews. If I have made a valid contribution to the OTP, I am very pleased. for you to say my work endears you to one of your favorite characters is the highest praise. I think a button just burst on my vest. I hope this last (?) section works as well.
@earlybird-obi-wan: I'm glad it worked for you, earlybird. Thank you for stopping in and leaving a comment!

A/N: This fic has been as much a surprise to me as it has been to you. This may be the last piece, but who knows. I'm not sure it matches the quality of the previous installments, but oh well.

Heartbeat

Nyota returned to her quarters purposing to send a video message to Spock before finding Leo and making things right with him. She entered the bathroom and proceeded to freshen up. She had not been crying, so there was no need to cover anything up, but she still felt like she wanted to look her best for the man she loved.

Leaving the bathroom, she went to her personal computer terminal and activated it. As much as she wanted to, she could not shake the covering feeling of melancholy which had been with her since Spock left. Should she just let him see her reality? Would he see her sadness? Would he care? As she looked at the monitor, she could see her faint reflection in the Starfleet symbol. She was suddenly rankled by her thoughts which sounded pathetic and needy. But were they? She loved him. Was she supposed to simply accept his decision? Did she have a choice? Yes, she did. She would send him a final message and, depending on his response, she would perform an emotional purge of her own.

She tapped the keys to access her account and started the recording:

Hello Spock. I hope this message finds you well. I am not well. Not ill, but not well. I’m sure you know what I mean. I thought I understood your choice, as much as I did not agree with it. How could I? My heart is with you, wherever you are. That choice is not yours. You don’t get to decide whom I love and-

Delete recording.

Hello Spock. I hope your work on New Vulcan is advancing successfully. I know there are so many things that must warrant your attention. What are you finding to be the most interesting? The intellectual stimulation…Shut up, Nyota!

Delete recording.

Here it is, Spock. No logical language. No dancing around the subject with questions about your work. I think you were wrong for leaving the way you did. I am trying to understand why you would disappear into thin air with little more than a hand written letter. The letter is logical. I’ll give you that, but says nothing of who we were, how we loved, how hard the separation would be. Do you know how hard the separation is for me, Spock. Are you thinking about me? I feel ashamed enough using these words. They are so desperate, so needy. But, that’s the thing, Spock, I need you. You are my love. The one I will love even in death. That’s what you said. Right? So freaking logical. ‘Think of me as if I had died. A person from the past, no longer alive.’ I know that Vulcan’s are capable of denial. Giant, monstrous, denial. But, but my human mind, cannot subjugate my heart. You are not dead. You are alive and, as much as you are denying it, your heart is burning inside you, eating away at the walls you have built up around it.

You’re not alone, though. My heart is longing. I miss you, Spock. You are so tender, so meticulous. Listen to me go on. I hope I’m making sense, but I don’t think so. My heart beats for you, Spock. My heart beats…with yours.

Her finger hovered over the delete message tab. There was no organization to her thoughts. She was just talking and it sounded hollow in her ears. It would sounds the same to him. She wouldn’t send something so raw to Spock. He would only see it as such. Her thoughts needed to be organ-

Message sent.

She slumped in her chair, it was out of her hands now. It was short. It was raw. I was disorganized. But, it was true. It was from her gut. It was uncensored. He would have to deal with it. Or not.

What a mess she was.

Her communicator chirped from the coffee table behind her. She rose and went to it. Leo.

“Uhura,” she said.

“You okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

“Not even close,” she replied lazily.

“I figured,” he replied, gently. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“I know. I’m sorry I blamed you.”

“I know,” he said, with an easy chuckle. “I could use a second cup of coffee. Care to stop by Sickbay.”

“I appreciate the offer, Leo,” she said. “Let me have a rain check?”

“Of course. My door is always open. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. And, probably soon.”

 

SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! Oh that was LOVELY! And REAL! If Leia had sent Han such a message, he would have STAYED, and that is a fact.

I love that she and Leo mended fences and cleared the air between them. It was good and the best thing for her to take a breather from everyone and take a rain check on coffee, but it's good that the door of friendship is open.


I do so thank you for sharing this.

 

Spock sure should reply to that sweet message. Love how she interacts with Leo

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thank you so much. I am tickled some color like pink that you are enjoying this so much. I hope Spock is in character. He can be a toughie.
@earlybird-obi-wan: I'm glad you are enjoying this as well, earlybird! Thanks for reading and taking the time to leave a review.

Absence

Weary from a long day of meeting with the Council of New Vulcan, Spock entered his quarters and started a pot of Chamomile tea, a Terran leaf that aided in relaxation. He needed to relax. Administration was not his desired area of focus and attending meetings day after day addressing housing, and infrastructure, constitutional restructuring, Federation aid, and biological imperatives, were causing his formidable mind to wander. When his mind wandered, it always wandered to the same thing: Nyota. Sweet Nyota. The Vulcan understood sacrifice. He understood duty. But as much as he understood his position, the choice he had made to leave her, his heart was troubled and his control was slipping. Her absence was creating imbalance and imbalance was intolerable. He could feel his temper rise and he would not allow it.

While the tea steeped, Spock lit his meditation lamp and sat in the middle of the floor of his spacious new quarters. He breathed steadily and attempted to empty himself of the burdens of the day. He was successful, for the most part, but removing Nyota was troublesome. The moment he pinpointed her in his thoughts, his blood pressure would rise. The moment he tried to expunge her from his thoughts his anxiety broke from its cage. He quickly gave up on his meditation, which was a testament to his unsettled nature.

He poured a cup of tea and decided to review his correspondence for the day. Sitting before his computer station, he entered his account. Immediately, he noticed a message from The Enterprise. From Nyota. The file was not large which had him unsure of either 'good' or 'bad' coming from Nyota.

His decision to leave her had been logical. It had been calculated and given the position of people, his race, necessary. Spock tried to bask in that knowledge; the necessity of being with his people, rebuilding Vulcan. As noble and self-sacrificing as it was, he could not reconcile it with his former life in Starfleet and with Nyota.

He activated the message.

When her face appeared on the screen, he sucked in a breath. She was as beautiful as ever. Her smooth brown skin, he penetrating, but soft brown eyes...He paused the message before she began speaking and just looked at her image. She was sad. As much as she had tried to 'get herself together', she had failed. failed as miserably had he had.

He activated the message.

Here it is, Spock. No logical language. No dancing around the subject with questions about your work. I think you were wrong for leaving the way you did. I am trying to understand why you would disappear into thin air with little more than a hand written letter. The letter is logical. I’ll give you that, but it says nothing of who we were, how we loved, how hard the separation would be. Do you know how hard the separation is for me, Spock. Are you thinking about me?

How could she doubt that he thought about her all the time? His carefully crafted facade of logic was rotting underneath as his uncertainty about his decision was a constant plague.

I feel ashamed enough using these words. They are so desperate, so needy. But, that’s the thing, Spock, I need you. You are my love. The one I will love even in death. That’s what you said. Right? So freaking logical. ‘Think of me as if I had died. A person from the past, no longer alive.’ I know that Vulcan’s are capable of denial. Giant, monstrous, denial. But, but my human mind, cannot subjugate my heart. You are not dead. You are alive and, as much as you are denying it, your heart is burning inside you, eating away at the walls you have built up around it.

His heart rate had risen as he read. His anxiety about the separation constricted his breath. What was happening? Were her words, spoken so erratically, so emotionally, from such a distance, able to affect him so strongly? Clearly, they were. Seeing her and hearing her words made him question everything he had done up to that moment. He could no more act as if Nyota had died as she could do so of him. He had been a fool to suggest it. McCoy's words rung true and haunted him even now.

He activated the message.

You’re not alone, though. My heart is longing. I miss you, Spock. You are so tender, so meticulous. Listen to me go on. I hope I’m making sense, but I don’t think so. My heart beats for you, Spock. My heart beats…with yours.

"I miss you as well, Nyota," he whispered to the screen as the message faded and the Vulcan symbol reasserted itself. He sat back in the chair, relaxing his rigid posture. His uncompromising adherence to logic had cost him the desire of his human heart. He purposed, in that moment to go to her. His commitment to New Vulcan would have to be reevaluated. He had spent so much time trying to be a full Vulcan, but the truth, the brutal truth was that he was not a full Vulcan. It was time to accept his human half. His first step would be to renew his love for Nyota. He would go to her as soon as he could commandeer a shuttle.

 

*purrs* Just *purrs* Sweet. Just. So ...him. Whom I've loved since forever. Literally.

 

Yes, go for it Spock and return to your beloved

 

Thank you to @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha and @earlybird-obi-wan for their faithful reading and reviewing of this story.

Restore

Once Spock had procured transportation, he contacted Jim on the Enterprise. The Captain was happy to hear from him and inquired of his progress, but Spock's obvious impatience, cut through the small talk.

"Uhura has taken leave, Spock," Kirk said. "She needed it."

"It is understandable given the circumstances," Spock replied, averting his eyes momentarily. "I will attempt to contact her at home."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kirk challenged. "Maybe she just needs time to adjust to the new reality."

"I appreciate your desire to protect Nyota, Jim, but my desire to contact her is restorative rather than punitive."

Kirk revealed a sly grin. "Spock, You old sehlat. Are you two getting back together?"
Spock retained his stoic air in response to Kirk's jocular response.

"That remains to be seen, Captain," the Vulcan replied. "But it is my intent for us to renew our bond."

Kirk nodded knowingly. "You mean throw yourself on her mercy and hope some groveling will help tip the scales."

"There are no scales to tip, Jim. Our love was never in question. My decision to go to New Vulcan is what separated us as you are well aware. I do no believe that groveling will be required. However, 'throwing myself on her mercy', as you stated, could be an effective tactic."

"Tactic?" Kirk replied, frowning. “Spock-"

"As much as you like to play word games, Jim, I know that you know what I mean."

"Touché, my friend," Kirk replied. "I wish you the best. Let me know if or when you decide to return to duty."

"I will contact you as soon as those decisions are resolved. First things first." Spock arched an eyebrow.

"Indeed, Mr. Spock. Live Long and Prosper."

"Peace and Long Life, Jim."

****

Spock considered landing a shuttle on the Uhura property, but discarded the idea immediately as too ostentatious and he would lose the element of surprise. He opted, instead, to be beamed to her doorstep. She would definitely be surprised by that. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it opened inward before he made contact.

And, there she was.

She wore a burnt orange sun dress and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail which was just outside standard Starfleet regulation. He eyes were downcast and she gasped at the sight of his black boots on her front stoop. She took a step back as her gaze raked his informal Vulcan apparel. When her eyes found his face, and connected with his, he hand shot to her mouth. Her lovely brown eyes went wide in shock almost instantly they were brimming with tears.

“Spock!” she cried and threw her arms around him in a warm, accepting embrace. He was slow to respond, but only because he had not known what she would do on seeing him; before he explained himself. He imagined her angry and defiant or quiet and detached, but, strangely, he never imagined she would joyfully jump into arms.

She released her hug and drew back to take him in. “Where did you come from?”

Spock was unsure how to respond. She knew he had been at New Vulcan; that it was from there that he must have come. But, he also knew that humans used common phrasing and this could simply be a phrase of greeting. He decided to respond in kind.

“Thin air,” he deadpanned, allowing an almost imperceptible tug upward at the edge of his mouth.

His response had the desire effect as Nyota burst out laughing. The sound was magical.

“I’ll just bet you did,” she said as her laughter subsided. She took his hand and was about to lead him inside, when he resisted.

“I’d rather not come inside until we speak privately,” the Vulcan said, suddenly serious.

Nyota’s face turned inscrutable. “There is privacy inside as well, Spock.”

“Nyota, I…” he trailed off with a quick shake of his head in irritation. “I came here to tell you that I was…wrong to leave.”

Uhura’s face shaded from impassive to resigned. “No, you weren’t.”

He regarded her, unable to respond immediately.

“Your message,” he replied. “You said I was wrong for leaving.”

She smiled sadly and cupped his face in her hands. “My sweet man. So logical. I said you were wrong to leave the way you did. I never said you were wrong to leave. Your people need you, Spock. That was never in question. What hurt my heart was that you left without saying goodbye. We didn't break up because of couple issues. We loved each other. We still loved each other when you left. What happened, Spock?”

He removed her hands from his face, but never broke eye contact. “I thought it would be better for us, you and me, to forego a tearful goodbye. I did not want to see you in tears and I did not want to fight the roiling emotions such an encounter would force to the surface.”

“So, you did it for you,” she stated, matter of fact.

He was silent, as he so often was when she was right. A tear streaked down her cheek. He caught it with his index finger. “Yes. I did it for me. Part of me thought it would be easier for you too. That part was mistaken.”

She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Spock.”

“Why are you thanking me?” he asked, confused.

“It means a lot that you admitted it. Even for me, I wondered if you would defend yourself.”

They remained just outside the door of her childhood home. This time he cupped her face in his hands. “There is no excuse for abandoning you, my love. You message told me everything I was too blind to see. Our hearts beat together. We belong together. You, Nyota, are my rising and setting Sun. You are my inspiration. Your presence feeds my purpose. I am lost without you. It is most Illogical, but love supplants logic when it comes to you. I love you, Nyota. Separation was a fool’s errand. Do you know who told me that?”

She was crying again, but it was okay. Spock knew it was okay.

“In fact,” she said, softly. “I do.”

He was not surprised. He knew of Nyota’s friendship with the Doctor. It was older than their relationship.

“I am sure he was quite eloquent in his summary of our meeting. Here, in this place, with you, I see what Dr. McCoy was trying to do. He cares for you. However, he his highly volatile and needs to work on keeping his composure.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that."

“I am happy to be here with you, Nyota. I pledge to never abandon you again. Whether I am on New Vulcan or in Starfleet, I would have you at my side.

He produced a small box from his coat and bent to one knee. “Nyota Uhura, will you be my bride?”

Nyota covered her mouth again and started crying, again, but he knew it was okay.

She took the ring and place it on her finger. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she exclaimed. She pulled him back to a standing position and kissed him passionately on the lips. Then she hugged him with all her considerable strength and kissed him. And hugged him, again.

Spock smiled.

 

Happy gooified me! Delicious! Thank you!

His declaration is siggy-worthy and beautifully said! Her joy is unquestioned and unhesitating.

 

perfect

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: You wish is my command, Nyota. So glad this hit the OTP mark. And, thanks again for the shout out in your sig.
@Mira_Jade. Mira! Thank you for leaving such a wonderful review. It is my honor to share my love of ST:2009 with you guys. I like Karl Urban's McCoy a lot and Zoe definitely brings an edge to Nyota. so much fun to write when the inspiration strike...randomly.
@earlybird-obi-wan - Thank you so much. I'm glad this worked so well for you.

Now, back Stranger Things for this little tangent. Will Byers faces his fear.

Fear Is the Mind Killer

Will Byers was scared. He had every right to be. Because the thing he was afraid of was something of which every human being on Earth should be afraid. Will's experience gave him a unique perspective; a unique understanding of the nature of the beast. What will wanted, today, was to tell the beast that his fear did not make him weak.

He stood outside the tool shed, which was mere steps from his back door. He had not set foot in the structure since the day of this initial abduction. It was now three months since El closed the Gate, since she freed him from unwanted imprisonment in his own body and mind. He would overcome this fear and he would do it alone. No mom, brother, or friends could do this for him.

Placing his hand on the knob, he turned it cautiously and pushed the door open. He stood at the threshold and peered into the shadowy interior. He had been terrified at the time, running on strength he didn't know he had, trying to out run the Demogorgon. He didn't know what he was running from, a man, a monster, or some amalgamation. He wondered if staying in the house would have changed the outcome. Probably not. He steps into the shed. He's shaking, that old fear rising, but he is also resolute.

Fear is the mind killer.*

I will face my fear.

The shed seems smaller than it did that day. He stands taller to the workbench and he doesn't have to stretch as much to pull the light chain. The light came on illuminating the empty structure. He stepped further inside even as he heard the phantom growls of the monster invading his ears. He took a tentative step toward the back corner. The broken boards where the creature entered had long ago been fixed by his brother, but Will could see the beast rise before him like the shadow who came later. He took a step back.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

Bob had told him to stand his ground. To tell the bully to go away, that he had no control. That had not worked in the face of the Shadow, but was solid advice now as he faced only memories, shadows in his mind.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

An axe lay on the workbench where Jonathan must have forgotten to hang it up after splitting firewood. He took hold of it and held it like sword. It was heavy in his hands and he choked up on the handle like a baseball bat. The presence was still there, glaring as much a shadow can. In his mind, Will heard the piercing shriek of the creature. Gathering his courage, he swung the axe and bisected the presence, burying the ax into a beam on the other side of shed. Extracting the axe, he turn and saw the creature in full rage, its face open and it teeth bared. He rose the axe over his head and swung down hard cleaving the phantom in two and burying the axe two inched deep into the bench. The shadow dissipated like so much vapor leaving Will panting. He pulled the axe from the bench and replaced it on the wall rack.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

Reaching up to turn out the light, he turned a final, scrutinizing eye on the room. The shadow was gone. His fear of this place and what happened here was gone. The boy who remained was stronger for facing it; stronger for not allowing that part of his heart to die.

As he closed the door being him, he wondered why this fear had lingered so long, when he had already mastered the memory of his possessor. He decided it did not matter. Will Byers would no longer be mastered by his fears.

*Italics is quoted from Dune by Frank Herbert.

 

Courageous and resolute and definitely a moment of inner strength, something to be proud of.

 

Not familiar with the characters but this gave me a great insight in the character of Will