[ For all that Spock actively likes children - they are generally simple, their minds curious and bright, the promise of a future in their hands - he is ill-equipped to deal with them but in the most proscribed situations. Certainly not one such as this, terrified and broken in so many ways that Spock has trouble banking his disgust for the individuals who would allow such harm to come to a child. So he simply stands a few paces from Jim's shoulder, ready to jump forward if an attack happens but giving the captain the chance to plead with the child.
The kid eyes them all warily, but Spock watches him lock onto Jim's face eventually. Distrust is plainly written in his features, hardened and unyielding.
"Why should I trust you? You're just like all of 'em, buncha adults promisin' things they can't deliver. Got here too late to help the others." He kicks at the ground, sending off a cloud of dust that rises in the slight breeze.
Spock mentally reviews the reports and cannot recall any mentions of children dying in masses. Just like there were not any reports of survivors here, or the sheer destruction. He wonders how many others there are. ]
no subject
The kid eyes them all warily, but Spock watches him lock onto Jim's face eventually. Distrust is plainly written in his features, hardened and unyielding.
"Why should I trust you? You're just like all of 'em, buncha adults promisin' things they can't deliver. Got here too late to help the others." He kicks at the ground, sending off a cloud of dust that rises in the slight breeze.
Spock mentally reviews the reports and cannot recall any mentions of children dying in masses. Just like there were not any reports of survivors here, or the sheer destruction. He wonders how many others there are. ]