[Spock doesn't love, not as he's consciously aware of it. He is sentimentally attached to a few things, a few people. Love is a curious concept, something he is reaching for and brushing the tips of, not fully comprehending. It doesn't fit logic, and so he thought he has no place for it, but Nyota is proving otherwise, and so is the ship and crew. He feels an overpowering desire to keep them all safe from harm, even if that's not realistically possible; he feels he's intelligent enough to manage something like that.]
[I never intended to spare your crew, says Marcus, and Spock feels (he feels) the volcano at Nibiru rise up inside him and swallow this man, he would see Marcus dead—]
[Except Jim is right in front of him, instead of far away, with such a contrasting, intense joy at a five year mission and is tearing everything down that Spock stands, quietly, and waits.]
[Look where we are, Jim says, and Spock sees it; a carpet of stars. It is aesthetically pleasing, he thinks, and too late, it'll be conveyed to the other mind present with him, but it's not like Jim would broadcast that. Jim keeps his confidence.]
[They're on the bridge of the Enterprise, they're home, and nothing else matters.]
no subject
[I never intended to spare your crew, says Marcus, and Spock feels (he feels) the volcano at Nibiru rise up inside him and swallow this man, he would see Marcus dead—]
[Except Jim is right in front of him, instead of far away, with such a contrasting, intense joy at a five year mission and is tearing everything down that Spock stands, quietly, and waits.]
[Look where we are, Jim says, and Spock sees it; a carpet of stars. It is aesthetically pleasing, he thinks, and too late, it'll be conveyed to the other mind present with him, but it's not like Jim would broadcast that. Jim keeps his confidence.]
[They're on the bridge of the Enterprise, they're home, and nothing else matters.]