STAR TREK IMAGINES

Commander Spock

A/n: mentions of depression, PTSD like symptoms, and mentions of suicidal urges, and drinking please do not read if any of that's a trigger for you

Conversations swirled in the room around me, despite the jovial smiles, and cheery chatter I could not bring myself to do the same.
Spock was on the other side of the room, observing a drunk Jim probably making sure he doesn't burst into karaoke again.
I sipped on the cool whisky in my hand, wishing so desperately it would numb the feelings in my stomach as I was told it could.
I had no reason to feel this way, just a couple of hours ago I was happily lying in bed with Spock, after another night of passion, and sweet comforts.
Now that seemed like days ago, I was ready to walk out of this dumb party but every once and a while Spock would either come over, or give a look, as though he was asking me to stay for a little bit longer.
He wouldn't even say anything, since I was sat next to the drinks table I figured most of the time it was the others asking Spock to go get more drinks but for a second he'd grip my hand quickly, or simply kiss my cheek.
I felt as though I could lean over and be sick right now, my body ached but regardless I reached for another drink.
I watched as Jim drunkenly gestured to the woman sitting next to him, seeming pushing her in Spocks direction.
Without thinking, I held onto the glass in my hand so tight it shattered.
Random pieces of shrapnel stuck in my hand, Blood dripped down onto my thigh, normally jealously wasn't a feeling I was prone to but tonight was different. I'd had more than enough, swiping a bottle no one seemed to notice as I got up and left.
For a while, I just sort of walked around numbness over took me Finally as I drank more and more. Blood stained my pants as I held my hand against my leg trying to conceal some of the blood as I walked past the med-bay, going to my room.
I sat down on the edge of my bed, finally looking down at the blood on my hand.
I couldn't control my emotions as I looked at the sight, anger, sadness, jealousy, pain.
It could all end.
That voice in my head came back, every time I was in this state it was there, every time I was struggling it was there. Reminding me.
The easy way out, the one way to make my troubles end, and to let it all go away.
Containers of pills sat on my dresser, tempting me as did the almost done bottle in my hands.
Accept it. let it end. Let it end. Let it end.
Chanted on, and on in my head, that voice screamed it at me, as though I didn't understand what it meant.
Overwhelmed, I screamed and threw the bottle at the wall.
I collapsed onto my knees, rolling into a ball on the floor as I cried out, to no one.
I didn't hear the door open, but I felt Spock pick me up.
He pulled me up, as though he was pulling me from the darkness I was swiftly falling into.
He said nothing and neither did I, any-time I thought I should I found my voice had escaped me.
Spock did not ask me to explain why I was in this state, or what caused me to be like this.
All he did was bring me to the restroom to clean my hand up.
Turning on my music* for me, Spock also helped me into bed, turning my lights down so that everything was bathed in warm yellow lights.
I felt more tears fall as I pulled myself closer to Spock, he always had a calming affect on me and that was in full force as I was finally beginning to fall asleep.
"Goodnight, my love"
Spock pressed a kiss against my forehead.
"Goodnight"

A/n 2: apologies for a heavy chapter, I needed to vent but hopefully when I have time to write the next one, to make up for this one will be nice and happy

*for aesthetic purpose, the music playing is freaks by surf curse