Star Shots (Star Trek One Shots)

Five - At The Beach

*This story is set in the same universe as Do You Believe in Angels? I hope you enjoy reading it*

"Are you coming down with us for the shore leave, Mr. Spock?" James was making his way down to the transporter room, and Spock was right behind him, like usual. 

"Yes. Not because I require stress leave, as you know, Jim. Dr. McCoy has requested that I come. He says he has something he needs me to study, and that he cannot bring it onto the ship." 

"Well, either way, it's good that you're getting off the ship for a bit. Getting a bit of fresh air might help you think more clearly." Spock stepped into the transporter with Jim and they beamed down. 

"I fail to see why that would make a difference. As long as I can breathe, my thinking will not be affected." Jim sighed and started walking through the woods. 

The place they had landed was breathtaking, with dense forest shrubbery and trees. There were thousands of flora, all waiting to be documented. Spock was already looking forward to beginning. 

"Just try to relax, alright Spock? Have some fun while we're on the beach. Go swimming, get a tan, chat with the crew, whatever. Just do something other than work. I think the last time I saw you not working was three months ago when you played your harp in the rec room for ten minutes." 

"The beach?" Spock asked just as they stepped out of the trees into a part sand part pebble stretch of dirt. The sand lowered slowly into a great basin of water, where many crew members were already getting their feet wet. His eyes widened as he stared at the scene. The large trees on the other side of the lake was a hazy green smudge on the horizon, and the light from this planet's star made the water sparkle in multitudes of colours. Several kinds of wildlife grazed peacefully and drank from the lake, a ways off from the crew. Spock felt a strange feeling curl in his gut, and he went pale. 

"Yes, it's been a while since the crew's gone swimming and I-" Jim paused as he turned to look at his second-in-command. "Spock? Are you alright?" Spock peeled his eyes away from the lake to look at Jim and he stood up straighter, forcing back the strange wave of.... whatever that was. 

"I am alright, Captain. I have no injuries." Jim gave him another concerned look before walking off to get into the water. Spock gazed at the water again, then at the wildlife, then turned his focus to finding McCoy. With jittery steps he made his way to the part of the beach where Bones was lying in the sand. 

"Doctor, what is it you needed me for?" he asked. 

"Oh, Spock, I'm glad you could join us. I actually didn't need anything. I called you down because I thought you might enjoy labelling and charting some of the life down here. I figured after a bit of relaxing I might even come join you."

Normally, Spock would reply with some jargon about how McCoy had disrupted his work or his schedule. Spock, however, did not feel normal. He didn't even reply to the doctor, he just sat next to him in the sand, staring at the water. Again, he felt a strange curling in his gut. He wondered if he was sick, and that perhaps he should ask the doctor. Instead, he simply stared at the water, feeling bile rise in his throat. 

"Spock?" McCoy sat up, looking at him intently. "What's wrong?" But he didn't respond. Spock kept staring into the water as he felt that same uncomfortable heat rise in his cheeks. He used to cry when he was younger, much younger, about his mother. He kept it to himself, and would constantly berate himself for it. Spock's hands shook the tiniest bit as he wiped them on his pants. He had yet to let a tear fall, and if he could keep them from falling, he would. 

It had been a long time since Spock had thought about his mother. Surrounded by this scene, he could think of nothing else, and wrought  him with a long forgotten anger. His mouth tasted bitter, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He felt helpless, like he was trapped again under that car, watching as his mother died in front of him. 

He snapped his head to the side as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw McCoy standing above him. "Let's go to my office," he said quietly. "I think you should get out of here." Silently, Spock let Bones bring him back up to the ship and to his office. He sat placidly on one of the examination tables, staring off to the side. 

"Spock, I'd like you to tell me what's going on inside that head of yours." 

Spock raised his eyes to meet the Leonard's. His mind was racing, and yet he couldn't think. He felt the need to run, and yet he couldn't move. With a tremble of his lips, Spock said, "Doctor, I tell you this in complete confidence. If you speak of this to anyone else-"

"I won't, Spock. I would respect your privacy even if I wasn't a doctor and you weren't my patient." 

With a deep breath, Spock told the doctor about the day his mother and uncle died. He told Bones about everything. It was the first time he had ever spoken with anyone about it, and for the first time in over thirty years, Spock cried.