Captain Christopher Richard Pike

His breath was quiet and uneven, the perfect mix of fear and shock and this abominable excitement from earlier. A moment passed, and his fingers drew back. Slowly, every Vulcan fibre of his being screaming to just break his neck and be done with it, he lowered himself to his knees beside the bed. His hands gripped tight at the standard-issue, nondescript bedsheets. His eyes never wavered from Pike's, but they were wide and telling about his internal turmoil, emphasized by the still-present tension that had crept to every muscle of Spock's body.