The Loneliness of Command

And McCoy, reduced to watching anxiously, was relieved when they finally arrived; he knew the ankle was hurting Spock--had known it back in the shuttle, though Spock had, as usual, managed to suppress the pain--and he had a growing fear that the bull-headed First Officer was now aggravating a probable crushed ankle.

He quickly directed Spock to an examination table and went back to his office to contact the Bridge, knowing that Kirk would want to know if any of them had been injured. As McCoy had expected, when Kirk discovered that Spock was the only apparent (surviving) injury, he inisted on coming down to Sickbay personally to see what had happened. By the time Kirk had arrived, McCoy had finished his examination and told Spock to stay where he was while he went to his office to talk to Kirk.

"How is he?" Kirk asked, as soon as McCoy stepped through the office door.

"He'll need to stay off his feet for at least the next day or so. His ankle is pretty badly fractured--swollen, bruised...it looks worse than it is, and it was almost crushed, along with most of his lower leg," McCoy reported.

"How did it happen?" Kirk asked anxiously.

"A giant boulder was thrown at him. It landed on his leg."

"The big, hairy anthropoids our reconnaisance team reported," Kirk guessed quickly.

McCoy nodded. "It could've been a lot worse--for all of us," he asserted quietly. "Anyway, I don't want him walking on it until it's had a chance to heal. He should be confined to his quarters until then."

"All right, I'll see to it." Kirk studied McCoy hesitantly. "I understand you're missing two men. What happened to them?"

"That's one thing I want to talk to you about before you see Spock," McCoy told him, slowly and carefully. "When you take his report, try not to be too hard on him. He was...trying to command the only way he knew how, I suppose...by being overly Vulcan. It backfired on him, but we weren't much help, either--and that includes me. Boma should be on report..." He went on to summarize the difficulties of Spock's first command assignment. "He's already feeling guilty about it. I'm hoping that you can spend some time with him while he's recovering and talk to him about it--he needs to talk to you. You're his Captain and his best friend; he thinks he's let you down."

Kirk nodded understandingly. "I'll do the best I can, Bones," he promised. "Can I see him, now?"

"Sure. And go with him--he's going to need help getting back to his cabin, and I'm pretty sure he won't accept it from anyone else."

McCoy followed Kirk into the examination room and over to the table where Spock was still sitting. By now, his right boot and sock had been removed, and Christine Chapel was in the process of bandaging his obviously swollen ankle and lower leg; Spock was focused on her efforts, clearly in no hurry to go anywhere. At length, he became aware of Kirk's and McCoy's presence and looked up briefly, quickly lowering his eyes again as he caught sight of Kirk.

"There--all finished," Christine announced finally.

Kirk came closer as she carefully slipped Spock's sock back on over the bandages.

"His ankle was so swollen, I thought we were going to have to cut his boot off," she told Kirk, with forced casualness, as she moved out of the way.

"I've set the fractures. How fast they heal will be largely dependent on how successful you are in getting him to stay in bed," McCoy put in dryly.

Kirk nodded to each of them in turn in acknowledgement, keeping his eyes on Spock. "McCoy told me what happened, Spock. You have to stay off your ankle for a couple of days," he ventured cautiously.

Spock slowly picked up his boot in one hand, still unable to meet Kirk's eyes as he nodded in response, still remaining silent.

"And I want you to let Jim help you back to your cabin--no argument on that, and none of that Vulcan do-not-touch-me stuff, either; this is a medical order," McCoy admonished firmly. "I want *no pressure* on that foot. Is that clear?"

Spock nodded again, still not speaking. He fairly radiated shame--not for the injury that had left him so physically dependent, but for the way he had failed so miserably to justify his Captain's trust in him.

Kirk and McCoy communicated silently for a moment, then McCoy and Christine left the room to give them some privacy. Once they were gone, Kirk came close enough to be within easy reach, standing immediately next to the Vulcan. "I can have the corridors cleared between here and your quarters, if you like," he offered, watching Spock uncertainly.

"That will not be necessary," Spock replied stiffly.

"Come on, then..." Kirk offered an arm to him as Spock swung his injured leg off the table. He grabbed onto Kirk's arm as he slid cautiously off the table, down onto his good leg, leaning against his Captain's arm as it quickly slipped around his shoulders. Spock waited for a moment to accustom himself to the physical contact, reinforcing his mental shields against any shame or disapproval that might filter into him through Kirk's touch, then slowly tightened his own arm around his friend's back and let the Human help him across the examination room to the door.

Spock ignored the occasional passers-by in the corridors, for once not caring that he might be an object of pity; he had already shamed himself far more than this would. He focused his full attention instead on Kirk's touch and their joint efforts to get him to his cabin without him putting weight on his right foot, slipping and falling. Kirk, however, never let go of him, managing to guide him safely all the way to his cabin, despite the slowness of their progress.

Once there, Kirk guided the Vulcan into his bed chamber and helped him sit down on his bed. "I'd like to stay for a while, if you don't mind," he stated then, remembering his promise to McCoy to discuss Spock's mission with the latter.

"As a matter of fact, Captain, I had intended to ask you...if you could remain for a time...I do wish to speak to you," Spock admitted hesitantly.

"Good." Kirk sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

"You may wish to alter the temperature--I kow the heat to which I am accustomed would quickly become uncomfortable for you," Spock suggested. Kirk did not come to his quarters often, for just that reason, and Spock had resolved to try to make him feel more welcome when he was here. The Human was his friend as well as his Captain, and Spock had concluded that he was willing to endure the lower temperature if it would make Kirk more willing to come to a setting in which his First Officer was at least *physically* comfortable when he insisted on their discussing something that he found personally difficult.

"Are you sure?" Kirk asked uncertainly, getting up slowly.

Spock nodded. "I am not certain just how long this may take."

Kirk went into the study and adjusted the cabin's life support controls accordingly before coming back to resume his previous place, sitting beside the Vulcan on his bed. "All right, I'm here, now. Let's talk."

"I am not certain...where to begin," Spock confessed awkwardly, still trying to gather his thoughts.

"Then *I* will," Kirk offered, noting worriedly that his friend was still avoiding his gaze. "McCoy's report was fairly detailed. Your shuttle was pulled off course and you lost contact with the ship, then you managed to land on Taurus II. I know about the big ape-creatures, too--we sent a rescue-and-recon party down as soon as the transporters were functional; they didn't find you, but they found those creatures all over the place. Is that how Latimer and Gaetano were killed?"

Spock nodded slowly. "If you had not managed to beam us up when you did, we would *all* have died. Fm the moment we lost contact with you, everything...went wrong. I made what I thought were the best and most logical decisions possible...only to find out that each and every one was wrong," he revealed softly, his voice full of pain. "Two men died because I was incapable of comprehending the reactions of the creatures indigenous to the planet--reactions based on emotion, not logic, as Dr. McCoy tried to warn me."

He drew the knee of his good leg up under his chin, resting his arm on his knee. "I could not even maintain the respect of my crew...they constantly challenged me. In retrospect, I cannot blame them; had I been in their place, burdened with such an incompetent senior officer as myself...why Mr. Scott did not relieve me of command, I do not know.."

"Spock," Kirk interrupted anxiously, reaching to take his First Officer by the shoulders. "Look at me."

Spock shook his head in refusal. "I...I dare not. I failed you. I do not wish to see your...anger and disappointment," he responded, his voice full of controlled but apparent apprehension.

"Do it. *Now*," Kirk repeated firmly, making it an order.

Spock lifted his head hesitantly. Once eye-to-eye with Kirk, he searched his Captain's eyes and face for any sign of disapproval; what he found there was mostly concern.

"This was your first command, Spock. You'll learn from your mistakes," Kirk assured him.

"I do not even understand what my 'mistakes' were," Spock countered doubtfully. "I had thought that logic would be a most efficient basis on which to form command decisions--surely far better than the Human 'intuition' you use so freely. I do not...possess that capacity, anyway, so it seemed to me that I had no choice."

"But you *do* have it--in your Human half. *That* was your mistake; you're going to have to learn to *use* that part of you if you're ever going to be an effective commander--especially of a Human crew," Kirk explained patiently. "Don't let your Vulcan half isolate you from them."

"But I have always lived as a Vulcan. How can I be anything else?" Spock asked, almost plaintively.

"The point is that you *can*. You'll learn how," Kirk reiterated, squeezing his friend's shoulders as he looked into the unusually large, brown eyes.

They were lowered abruptly as Spock's shame again overwhelmed him. "When we first landed, I told McCoy that I neither enjoyed nor feared the prospect of command," he recalled faintly. "Now...despite the illogic, I wish with all my being that I might never command another mission."

"That'll change, with time and experience."

Spock looked up at him again sharply, but the expression in his eyes was one of entreaty. "Will it, Jim?" he questioned. "You say I will learn. Two men died this time. How many *more* lives are you willing to risk in the attempt to make a commander out of one who has no such aptitude? I accept limited shipboard command duties as part of my position as your First Officer, but I am not you; I was never meant to command...especially not outside missions."

"I think it's a little soon to be jumping to that conclusion, Spock," Kirk advised quietly. "And for God's sake, don't assume you'll lose lives every time you command. *I* don't; I trust you."

"Perhaps, in this, you trust me too much," Spock proposed, still not convinced.

Kirk released the other's shoulders finally. "Listen, if it helps any...it's not uncommmon to lose people on your first command."

Spock regarded him uncertainly. "That sounds like something you might say to...I believe the term is, 'cheer me up'," he observed.

"It is. It also happens to be the truth."

Spock studied him in silence for a time, his head cocked sideways, still suspicious. He had never known Jim to consciously lie to him-- *except* when he was trying to give encouragement or protect his Vulcan friend's "feelings". "Did *you*...lose anyone...on your first command?" he questioned challengingly.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Kirk recalled slowly. "I hadn't been out of the Academy that long--I was on the Farragut and had just made Lieutenant. I was asked to lead a first-contact team exploring the planet --the Captain and another team woulf be following us down later. We ran into this dragon-like creature that turned out to be telepathic--it could anticipate our thoughts and actions and was definitely bent on our destruction. But by the time I reallized that and figured out what to do about it, eleven people were dead. So, you see, you *didn't* do so bad, after all."

Kirk's voice had taken on that all-too-familiar tone of self- recrimination that it adopted whenever he became too conscious of being responsible for someone's death; Spock's instincts were to inquire further, but something about Kirk's manner seemed to forbid it. "Still, you do have that...command instinct. I do not," Spock pointed out, instead.

"Maybe not, but at least give yourself the chance to get some more command experience." Kirk watched him in sudden puzzlement as the Vulcan lowered his leg finally, shifting his position. "I suppose it does help explain why you were never given a mission command before. I never understood that, until now."

Spock lowered his eyes once more. "I apparently arrived on the Enterprise with an addendum attached to my service record--"

"Yes, I read it--very vague. Something about you not being recommended for command except in certain controlled circumstances because of some 'inability to inspire trust in those you lead'," Kirk interrupted dryly.

"Captain Pike took it literally, and since he had several officers senior to me, there was no reason for me to command when I did not offer to do so," Spock elaborated ruefully. "Whenever I was on a planet-side mission, he was with me."

"Well, you're not a junior officer, now. You're my senior Science Officer and second-in-command, and this was a scientific mission; it was-- and is--time for you to start commanding, Commander," Kirk admonished, his voice chiding but affectionate.

"I remind you that I am not yet a full Commander," Spock returned quietly.

Kirk nodded. It was a battle he was still in the process of fighting with Starfleet Command; he had recommended the Vulcan for promotion and won him the right to at least wear the stripes of a full Commander, but--for reasons that Kirk suspected had to do with the very command difficulties they were discussing--Starfleet seemed unconvinced enough of Spock's merits to have left him listed on all official and pay records as Lieutenant Commander. Kirk would *go on* fighting the bureaucracy war, too, until Spock received official acknowledgement of the rank his Captain believed he deserved.

"I know I am ranking Science Officer," Spock continued determinedly, "but at the moment, placing me in command of *anything* hardly seems desirable or logical. Or wise." He was clearly still disconsolate.

Kirk sighed, uncertain what more he could say to his friend without repeating himself. Clearly, Spock needed time to consider what the Human had already said, and Kirk needed time to come up with something else in the way of reassurance for him. Reprimanding him was unnecessary, since it was painfully obvious that the Vulcan already fully understood the seriousness of losing lives under his command and was punishing *himself* far more than any form of discipline Kirk would have considered for him.

What he needed to do was keep Spock's self-confidence--never very high regarding his command abilities, despite his usually impenetrable facade of control--from bottoming out so badly that Spock really *would* be afraid to ever command again. "It's getting late--I want you to get some rest, now. Think about what I've told you, and I'll be back to check on you tomorrow," he told Spock finally, getting up. "Is there anything else I can do or get for you? Remember, you're supposed to stay off that foot."

"You might turn the temperature back up," Spock replied faintly.

"Right. Anything else?" Kirk asked, heading for Spock's study.

"No, thank you, Captain."

Kirk glanced back at him one last time, still worried. All right, but if you need anything, you call me. Understood?"

Spock nodded silently in response.

Kirk made the requested temperature adjustment on the life support controls as he departed, leaving Spock to contemplate the situation alone.

Spock found himself unable to fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning--and when he did, his sleep was disturbed by noghtmare images of his Galileo 7 crew shouting at him, attacking him with the same spears thrown by the creatures that had killed Latimer and Gaetano. The images repeated every time he tried to go back to sleep, and he always awoke shaking and on the verge of tears.

To make matters worse, Kirk was not able to come "check on him" until around 1400, forcing the Vulcan to deal with it with only his own Vulcan background and training--which had never taught him too many ways to overcome nightmares, since true Vulcans weren't supposed to have them--to rely on; Spock, in the mean time, tried his best to comply with McCoy's instructions, getting up only occasionally to hobble his way to the bathroom, holding onto various pieces of furniture, shelves and bulkhead sections as he went. His ankle was still sufficiently swollen that he did not yet want to test it by putting his weight on it.

He was trying vainly to play his Vulcan harp, unable to concentrate well enough even for that, when his door buzzer sounded. "Come," Spock responded, his voice edged with frustration as he set the harp aside.

Kirk entered the bed chamber cautiously. "Sorry I couldn't come any sooner--Ferris has been on my back all day," he apologized sincerely.

"You mean *Commissioner* Ferris?" Spock questioned. He had almost forgotten that Ferris had been aboard since before the mission began, to oversee the transport of the medical supplies that the Enterprise was finally on course to deliver to Makus III.

Kirk nodded. "I didn't make him too happy by sticking around Murasaki 312 to search for you."

"Oh. I had wondered how you managed to see..."

"--your distress signal?" Kirk finished knowingly, striving to soothe his friend's embarrassment. "I stalled as long as I could. When he finally ordered me to start for Makus III, I had us get underway on impulse instead of warp drive."

"I see." Spock nodded approvingly and appreciatively.

"How are you feeling, Spock? How's the ankle?" Kirk asked then, noting how swollen it still appeared.

"Still somewhat sore," Spock replied evasively.

"And how are you--otherwise?" Kirk inquired again, coming to his friend's bedside.

Spock sighed, remaining silent for a time, reluctant to discuss his nightmare with Kirk because he was uncertain of how the latter would react. "I...did not sleep well," he admitted hesitantly, at last. "I kept...seeing my shuttle crew...angry with me, attacking me with spears..."

Kirk sat down quickly beside him. "Spock--"

"They...they hated me, Jim. I did everything wrong, and they hated me," Spock told him painfully, his voice hushed. "I...felt the emotion in them."

"No, Spock..." Not knowing what else to do, Kirk reached out, opening his arms to his Vulcan friend.

Spock reached out to touch Kirk's arms apprehensively, knowing he needed to find out if his Captain's emotions toward him had changed any, but inwardly afraid that Kirk, too, was really angry with him for the ineptitude that had cost the lives of two men. He rubbed Kirk's forearms hesitantly for a moment longer as his Human need for reassurance warred with his Vulcan training to avoid physical contact--then clasped them in final desperation, letting Kirk draw him close. Spock still was not accustomed to being held every time he was in some kind of emotional pain, as Kirk seemed occasionally unable to resist holding him, since it was the custom of Vulcans to seek emotional control from within themselves--but since the nightmare, he had gradually come to realize that this was, at the moment, exactly what he needed.

"Nobody hates you," Kirk was telling him soothingly. "In this case, they were out of line. I've already logged a reprimand for Boma, and I'll have a talk with the others later." He began to rub Spock's back as the Vulcan lowered his head onto Kirk's shoulder.

"What about *you*, Jim? Are you angry with me, too?" Spock asked, failing to suppress his anxiety as he cautiously lowered his mental shields and awaited Kirk's answer.

"Not angry. Disappointed, maybe--after all, I always thought you were infallible." Kirk immediately stopped the gentle teasing when he felt his friend's muscles tense instinctively in renewed shame. "It's all right, Spock...you're still my best officer. I'd still trust you with my life."

This was just what Spock had needed to hear, and he instantly relaxed in Kirk's arms as the emotions behind the Human's words filtered into him through his shields--compassion, affection, and trust. "I did not...fail you?"

"No, my friend. It's all right to make a mistake--even one as big as this--if you learn from it," Kirk assured him kindly, carefully rubbing Spock's back again. "Unfortunately, you've just had a hard lesson in what a lonely thing command can be."

Spock's voice as he responded was husky with more emotions that he could no longer fully suppress: "I experience enough of that emotion without it being compounded by command duties."

"I can't argue with that," Kirk concurred quietly. "But there *are* ways of coping with that loneliness, and of getting your crew to believe in and support you. If you'll just let me, Spock, I can teach you how."

Spock considered this for a long time. When he finally answered, it was only with great difficulty that he did so. "Could you also teach me...to draw upon my Human half in the manner you suggested?"

"That would certainly help you with the rest of it. If you're sure you want to learn."

"Ever since our Psi 2000 mission. I *have* wished I could...let myself feel and express...*some* emotion...without shame," Spock admitted softly. "I have not told you this because it is...so difficult. It may be impossible."

Kirk knew Spock was thinking of his virus-induced revelation that he was ashamed of their friendship, for he had been trying ever since to live down both the truth of the revelation and the fact that his Human Captain now knew about it. "I think, Spock, that you're going to have to overcome the shame on your own," Kirk remarked carefully, having been none to pleased, himself (if also not surprised) by Spock's revelation. "But I promise I'll do my best to help you. Just don't be afraid to ask me questions."

"Thank you," Spock murmured sincerely. "I wish *I* could promise success...but I am a Vulcan, and a lifetime of training in suppressing my Human half will be difficult to overcome. It...always has."

"I know." Kirk was surprised that his Vulcan friend had made no move to withdraw from him, but he also suspected he knew why. This first command experience had left Spock mentally and emotionally exhausted, and he had not been able to sleep last night--doubtless adding physical fatigue to the rest, despite Spock's usually more resilient Vulcan stamina. "Still tired?" he guessed.

He felt Spock stiffen just perceptibly in his arms, obviously embarassed again.

"It's all right," Kirk assured him gently, reading his thoughts. "You don't have to move if you don't want to."

The tension remaining in Spock's muscles clearly indicated that he remained unconvinced that it would be permissible. "You would...let me stay here...like this?" he questioned warily, still unaccustomed to the idea.

"As long as you want," Kirk reiterated, in the same gentle tone as before.

"I should not. I should lie down," Spock chided himself, trying to put himself into a state of proper Vulcan disapproval. "A Vulcan should not permit...such extended physical contact..."

"Even if the one he's in physical contact with doesn't object?"

"You do seem determined to act as...devil's advocate. That *is* the appropriate phrase, is it not?"

"Yes." Kirk almost laughed as he thought what McCoy would do with an opening like that.

"Very well. I...I could sleep, Jim, if...you are truly willing to permit it," Spock confessed finally, slipping his arms, one after the other, awkwardly around his Captain--his first attempt to respond to Kirk's embrace.

"That's fine, Spock...just rest, now."

They fell silent as Spock closed his eyes and concentrated on what he could feel of Kirk's emotions, rather than his own persistent embarrassment. //It is not illogical, nor is it an invasion of his privacy,// he told himself firmly. //Not when Jim gave me permission. His emotions for me are so strong...but shame is not among them.// At the moment, even with his mental shields fully lowered--something he would never have dared to do in anyone else's presence--all he could perceive within Kirk was deep affection and concern. He should have been uncomfortable with his awareness of these intense emotions, but instead, Spock found that it relaxed him and helped him reflect on his ill-fated Murasaki 312 mission.

Now that Jim had offered to help him--and it had never before occurred to Spock to *seek* his help, so confident had he been in his own Vulcan logic--perhaps he could at least learn to command competently. He would never achieve the same excellence in that area as Kirk, but at least he could make himself worthy of the trust he now knew that Kirk still held for him.

Suddenly, Kirk spoke again. "Are you still awake?"

"Yes," Spock sighed softly.

"Is it my imagination, or is it cooler in here than usual?"

"I had...been expecting you since this morning, so I...turned the temperature down for you when I last awoke," Spock admitted hesitantly.

"Ah--*that's* why you didn't object to my holding you. You're cold," Kirk concluded humorously.

This time, Spock accepted his friend's playful teasing. "I am--I was- -a little cold," he replied awkwardly. "But you...offered...and I do find the physical contact...pleasant."

"You're comfortable, then?"

"Yes. I am not certain why, but...yes." Abruptly, Spock thought again of the useless deaths of Latimer and Gaetano--and shamed tears burned behind his eyes, threatening what remained of his normal emotional controls. "Jim," he managed to say, then.

"Yes?"

"The families of Latimer and Gaetano will have to be notified. I am not certain...what to say to them...and I would appreciate your assistance."

"You'll have it," Kirk assured him understandingly. "I know it's hard--about the nastiest command duty there is."

Spock was silent. He felt his eyes filling with tears he could no longer suppress--both for the dead men and for the the ineptitude and arrogance that had led to their deaths--and he buried his face against Kirk's neck. "I am sorry. They never should have died," he whispered, at length.

"Shh," Kirk soothed, instinctively moving a hand to rest on the dark head, beginning to stroke the ebony-silk hair as he sensed the Vulcan's increased distress (though he had no idea Spock was crying because there was no audible evidence of it). "No one who respects life as much as you do could really be a bad commander--especially if you can grieve for lost crewmen," he told Spock kindly. "After all, that last little trick of yours of jettisoning and igniting the shuttle's fuel *saved* the majority of your crew. You'll do all right, my friend, even though I know all you really want to be is my Science Officer; I'll help you as much as I can-- always. For now, just sleep...sleep..."

Eventually, Spock did sleep, lulled into it by Kirk's soothing voice and touch; Kirk sat with his Vulcan friend partially curled up asleep in his arms all afternoon and well into the night. By the time Spock awoke, he was ready to let Kirk help him test out his ankle. It proved to still be difficult for him to walk on, so Kirk went to the nearest Rec Room and brought them both back some food--which he insisted that Spock eat--before finally feeling confident enough in the Vulcan's mental and physical condition to leave him alone for the night. He went to see McCoy before retiring, giving the Doctor a rough outline of how his talk with Spock had gone.

Two days later, Lieutenant Boma was confined to quarters when not on duty, Kirk had essentially read the riot act to the rest of the Galileo 7 crew, and Spock was ready to face the Bridge crew with only a slight limp. By that time, despite the First Officer's original expectations, it was obvious to those who knew them best that his relationship with Kirk had again grown a shade deeper.

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