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Chapter Text

Before his kahswan, Sarek was in the stage where his emotions were wild and youthful. His grandfather was his closest companion. His name was named Sybok.  Old Sybok indulged him. His grandfather would look around wild-eyed. He had a great curly beard like a nest, white with advanced age.
    No one else loved Grandfather like Sarek did.  They would lie side by side as they slept at night.  Grandfather taught him to hold his metabolism at the barest minimum, he taught him to still the heart, he taught Sarek how to stop his lungs.  Sarek would lose consciousness easily by his grandfather's side.
    Grandfather carried Sarek on his back and held him close like he was a pet.  Sometimes, when his back was not too sore, he would hold Sarek like a nursling, under his corset (Sarek was little once too).  The old man was not perfect.  
    One day he began to call Sarek, Silek, which was Uncle’s name.  When it was very late in the day he would forget what he was doing, dazed and disoriented. He argued with Father all the time in the nights and argued about things that Sarek did not understand.  Like how Grandfather did not wish to eat, or how it was impossible for him to sleep with the terrible sounds of the dead. Or how Mother was a secret poisoner. Sarek did not understand half the things his grandfather said, but he was always kind to Sarek.  Grandfather was very, very sick.  
    “Silek- err Sarek.  You have to get a globe melon when you are on kahswan.  I will show you what they look like. I want to go camping.  Camping will be great fun.”  His grandfather was pacing “I used to go camping with your father when he was a boy.  I met my wife on a camping trip when we were in school. Gol Melons taste good and chocolate and peri berries….” he spoke faster and faster like he had smelled oxygen or eaten chocolate.
    Sarek raced into the family lab. Skonn looked up from his mass spectrometer, where he was studying dilithium crystals from a Earther’s space ship.
    “Father!  Father Father! I wish to ask you something.” He tugged on his father's robe.  The man almost dropped a specimen dish.
    Skonn could not believe it, a child of five, just finished nursing, speaking to him.  It was not done in those days.  “Children should not speak to their elders without permission, Sarek.  Dost thou need further lessons from Mistress T’Pim in the deportment of a proper gentlemen as-”
    Sarek hated deportment classes.  They slapped and criticized you.  T’Pim had a cane that she would pound on his foot when he did something bad.  He tried very hard to be a gentleman back then, but he wanted to be ordinary. It seemed illogical to his mind to spend so much time focused on something so unstimulating like standing up straight.
    Skonn said. “I will see that you take time away from your Kahswan training. Thee spends too much time away from your learning, and gallivanting with no objective, in nature like a little sehlat cub.”
“But I must have survival training Father, If I am to succeed at my Kahswan. Grandfather said he would help me with Kahswan training.”
    “Old Sybok cannot go camping. He is to die soon. It would be inconvenient to find his body in the wilderness.  Thou are not old enough to come back on your own,”
    “Father I do not believe you. Grandfather is as healthy as I am.”
    “Thou are a Vulcan and shouldst be interested in the elegant sciences and not such crass things. Didn’t this unworthy father buy you a very expensive chemistry set? Would it not be more engaging to mix harmless chemicals and see their interaction?  Or read about these melons on the computer.”
    “I-” Sarek tries to say.
    “Your grandfather’s illness is a damaging influence on your temper. If I had interrupted my father at his studies no matter my age, there would be grave penalties.” Skonn said. “Sarek. I must insist.  No. You are forbidden. Leave me to my dilithium samples. The phase variance of this Earther Dilithium Matrix is more than compelling - it is fascinating and requires my whole attention.”
    Sarek wrinkled up his nose. His father always said no, but it was just as fair that Sarek did not always listen and tried to do what he wanted anyway. Sarek, feeling traces of sadness he tried to swallow, told his grandfather it was forbidden to go camping in the wilderness.
    Grandfather Sybok had forgotten he told him about the camping trip and was now speaking of his favorite birds and his favorite memories, and looked at Sarek as if he was the crazy one. Grandfather forgot everything, so he was a good friend and never held any bad feelings towards anyone.  Grandfather would always greet everyone warmly, except Father.
    Grandfather had an idea. They would practice Kahswan by pitching a tent with great Friilal Leaves in the family compound behind the maintenance shed in back of the house, to see if Sarek could make kept out the wind.  Sarek wanted to go to kahswan so he could be considered a man -  it was his fondest desire as a child.  Sarek sat up all that night with the old man.  
Vulcans do have imagination; Sarek conceived of himself on his Kahswan and not in the middle of the family compound. It seemed logical when his grandfather explained it, but Mother and Father were confused and he saw the little glimmer in his mother’s eye of shame and fear of ridicule.  Vulcan passions ran deep and fear was the greatest.
    Sarek honestly did not care. He was carried away by happiness.  He giggled uselessly with gales of laughter, even though he was told it was forbidden (and was punished.)
    That night, in the tent on the front lawn, the old man told him everything about the animals that lived in Devil’s Forge and all the people who had died before Sarek was born.  The old grandfather was 219, but just like a child and always smiling when he saw him.  He will never forget the sight of that night, the low light of the electric LED lantern glowing white green, his Grandfather with his mouth corners turned up in this thing called a smile.  Then it gave him a pleasure, as if Sarek himself could smile, lying in the ground with him.  He was so young and there was such lightness.
    His mother took him aside and he ate his breakfast from his mother’s teat, even though he was too old for it.  She needed to talk to him.  He curled up in her lap and she brushed his hair and ears till he almost felt sleepy again.  Her psychic presence felt strong with him, stronger than anyone he ever knew.
Through her hands she sent feelings of security and peace.  She spoke to him, “Do not co-sleep beside your Grandfather, child.  He is likely to die and no one will awaken you for school.” his mother said, wiping his mouth.  “Or get an alarm clock to wake you up if he dies in the night.”
    The next night Sarek went to rest in his room, like a proper boy. Grandfather came in the night with a blanket and laid beside him smelling badly of urine, but he did not mind, for it was worth his company.
    The day his grandfather died, the alarm clock blared loudly.  Sarek sat up, but his grandfather did not.   He shouted so the whole house could hear.  It was as if some struck him.  He was so frightened and sad he could not even cry out.  He just stood there amazed, then he touched his arm and face.  His body was so cold – there was no feeling of thought or life.  Sarek stood up and went to his parents to inform them of the death.
    Many, many, many times they had said Sarek should avoid his grandfather because he was to die and was sick.
    Sarek felt very small and young. He covered his eyes with his hand and mouth and bit back every tear.  He squeezed himself shut so he would not feel a thing.  His eyes, his ears, his mouth, until his teeth bruised his lip.
His father praised his restraint, with the stroking of his finger. “I am proud of thee Sarek.  Sharing sorrows is not the way of a gentleman.” Even the brave Tsai Treska, his daughter, let out a cry when they interred him and put dirt on his face.  Sarek bit his hand and he was able to go to school that day as Grandfather had died before dawn and children did not participate in funeral rites.
    Eight hours later he approached his room and his bed alone.  Grandfather was not just dead. He would be missing from his life for the rest of his life.  Grandfather was no more.  
    His father looked at him.
    “It is time for sleep child.  It is a long day.  And you have school tomorrow.”
    It was the old days when children were seen and not heard, but he was just old enough to be able to have his thoughts. “This unworthy child has a question, elder.” Sarek piped.
“The child may ask.” Skonn knelt to look Sarek in the eye.
“This unworthy child wonders if, sleeping is… dangerous.  Grandfather died in his sleep.”
His father knelt down to face him “Grandfather was old and very sick.  He would not eat or drink and had spent many days not talking care of himself.  He did not even bathe himself. He had atherosclerosis, cardiac problems and various other problems.  Old Sybok is at rest.  It is best.  He suffered in lack of dignity at the end. This unworthy one‘s honored father had Bendaii and let emotions take him in the end.”
His father touched his face.  He would always remember that.  “Eat and drink and meditate so that your cares will disappear. For that is the way a healthy person avoids death. Avoiding all emotions and suppressing them.”
    “I fear.”  Sarek said, his voice wobbled in his throat.  His father saw the fear in him as they were touching.
    “Do you fear going to sleep alone, Sarek son of mine?”
Sarek looked up at his great big tall father.  He nodded mutely, wishing to cry out but lacking the strength.
    “That disturbs me.” His father held his face and let their foreheads meet. “I will make sure you go to sleep and not worry. It is bad for you to worry my son. I will see to your comfort.”
There was a tickle of air. When he blinked it was morning.
Sarek did not know he had been drugged to quiet his stupid immature fears. The gassy smell of hypospray stripped him of his consciousness, and no worry had been eliminated.  Now there were new ones about being attacked by hyposprays if he was caught unaware.

    Sarek was certain he would die one day when he was sleeping.  He could never tell his father. And the fear did not end after a week or two or even five….

***
    It is not as he expects when he returns from his two year mission to the Klingon Empire, a year living on the Klingon home world Qonos. The year he was supposed to spend touring the Provinces with the very young Chancellor Horek was cut short when talks deteriorated into violence and he was forced to fight alongside Fleet Security forces to make it to his ship.  He was only in the blood line of Surak, not a man who would lay down his life to placate Klingons.  They were not ready.  He did not personally slay any of them, but there had to be Klingon casualties or he would not be returning to Vulcan at  all.

    Sarek is to be appointed Vulcan Ambassador to the Federation, next term, as Ruil was only just a place holder after the many accomplishments of T’Pol.  They need a man willing to get his hands dirty.  He is not sure he ever wants to leave Vulcan again.
    He is driven up to the edge of his ancestral manor.  He walks into his house.  He grew taller than his father in dimensions. Sarek had a great deal of problems as a youth with athletics for several years, until he realized the length of his arms and legs.  He had done something right, growing tall and strong.
    Amanda stalwartly copes, or so she says.  He is not sure if she is exaggerating or underrating the trials she faces on Vulcan alone without him.  She is self-sufficient and resourceful and has been a resident of Vulcan for many years prior.  So, she didn’t starve, was able to venture into town and buy her sundries at the market and knows how much to pay the groundskeepers.  She has been an expert in childcare for all her life.  She takes pride in that.  Though an infant is not a child, her discipline and caretaking techniques adjust quickly.
    Spock is the first one to greet him.  Spock is practicing his calligraphy in the sandbox.  He has doubled in size.  
    The little child gets up from his business. He awkwardly waddles as if he has been doing it for years with no fanfare and wanders over to the door.  He is curious and grabs at his leg.  He reaches out his chubby hand.
    “Papa.” Spock says in garbled nonsense.
    Sarek is strangely not disappointed.  It would be illogical for a baby to talk. Spock would not be ready to speak properly until he learned the Seven Thousand Forms.  
    “Sarek, your father. Sarek.”
    “Saywrik” Spock mimics well.  Is it a human trait?  Their children learn to speak by mimicry alone.  Human beings might have different first words, and they had hazy memories of their infancy.  It was strange to see him walking.
    He grasps his child’s hand (not an infant hand but a small child’s) and Spock walks at Sarek’s side.  Sarek could drag him, but he goes at Spock’s leisurely ambling waddle.  Spock is staring at him with brown eyes, like his mother’s. That has not gone away.
    Sarek sees Amanda in the flesh for the first time in ten months.
    “He can walk.  You didn’t send me any indication.”
    Amanda is straightening up the sitting room. She did not look in her eyes,“I did not know that you would want to take time out of your busy day.  You had very serious matters.”
    “The developmental markers of my children are not things I had wished to miss. How is my son doing?”
    She somehow understands he does not wish to be greeted in his own home.  Somehow her nonchalant actions are just what he needs.  She is trembling.  She wants to throw her arms around him, race to him. She will not approach him and throw her arms about his neck in abandon.    He can see his wife’s hand tremble as she cleans the living room, trying to forebear tears and laughs.
    “What do you wish to know?” She said offering a seat.
    “How far along is he in learning the 7000 forms.”
    “He has learned 5506 forms as of three days ago.”
    He was not an infant but a child now, or at least had the intellectual and perceptive qualities of a child.
    “An adept could do no less.” Sarek nods and places his hand on Spock’s hair.
    “He can walk and started speaking little baby talk.  Sybok got him through the first five thousand. I taught him six badly.  He can play that Star and Flower Game better than any kid on the block.” she said. “His empathy is quite adept.  Precog is high for a Vulcan” Amanda smiled “I‘m taking him to Las Vegas. Can you count Jacks? Spock? Spock Ashal-veh”  She holds him close. Gives him a cheek kiss.
    “In 2 years?” Sarek touches her
    “Less. He is real good.” Amanda said.  “I think his human side is causing him to develop a bit faster.
    
    “His Psionic Profile is a little exotic.  The Hospital gave me some names of individuals who have experience in the field, most of them are off planet.” he said “Once the forms are set it is very easy for him to read.  He could ‘path images before he talked.  He memorized all the forms in the game.  He is fluent in the hand gestures.  It is so miraculous.  I‘ve never seen a child progress so fast.  Some of these teaching games are brilliant.  I have also been teaching him Vulcan hand sign-language.  The strange thing is he is trying to teach me. I made the wrong gesture for breakfast.”
    “Mommy said it is time for breakfast.”  She made the sign for lunch.
    Spock shook his head and he made the gesture for breakfast.
    “I don’t know where he gets it.  Can‘t even talk and he‘s sassing to his elders.” Amanda grinned.
    Sarek sat down and began the incantation.  They were learning games.  The Senior would hold an image in his mind and then the child would scan his mind with his telepathy to recognize the symbol.  It could be done through touching or in a rare circumstance through osmosis.  To prepare the mind for training and complete control.
    “Star in the Sky. Flower on the Lake, Monster in the Dark. What is it that cannot be hidden?”
Sarek held it behind his back.
    Sarek had played the game with Sybok for many hours.
    “Star.”  Spock shouted lifting his hand upwards.
    “He’s got it down. You can‘t trick him” Amanda said “I thought he was cheating at first.  But he doesn’t really get confused until you go upstairs.”
    “Spock, what is it?  What is it behind my back.”
    He held out his hand, making the symbol of the blossom.  It was old trick “Fwower. Flaur…”
    “Hurray!” Amanda smiled “My Spock-ashal-veh” He chuckled “My baby.”  She actually encouraged him with her joyous reaction.
    “Son I am pleased. You almost have pronounced it correctly.”  He said in a voice that is almost musical, perhaps taking Amanda’s cue. Her voice was ebullient as she watched him make many small achievements.
    Spock gesticulates the word for robot, cat and himself.  It is not clear what the child is communicating.  His figures are chubby and small and hard to read.  He does not know how to speak these words.
    “He wants to look at his robot.” she said.  “It is the hottest toy on Earth.  Grammy had to send it. Grammy wants to spoil him because he cannot visit and has no sense of boundaries.”
    “I do not understand.” Sarek said
    “Sorry.” She held up a brightly colored box “It is a toy.”
    Sarek is confused.  He thought they would not raise Spock the human way, and he thought they were in agreement in all things. “Has my child come into the possession of something called a toy?”
    “I think so.” Amanda said.
    "Illogical. It is an item that serves no purpose. A human custom.” Sarek said sternly.
    “It develops motor skills, social interaction, rudimentary problem solving…  Vulcan children really don’t develop that differently from Terran children. They need to touch and taste and smell and be allowed to explore.  We just like to do it in a different way.”
    “Toys. They are not the Vulcan way,” Sarek shook his head
    "I am so sorry.” Amanda said " I was going to recycle it but he pulled it out of the box.  I tried to take it from him.  He is too little to understand, maybe he’s picking up some weird psychic vibe from my grandmother.  He has been messing with it every day - I am sure he will tire of it soon. Then we can throw it away."
    Sarek said “When he is no longer stimulated you can send it back to your mother and she can give it to a human child. As human children become quite attached to their toys.”
    “Well that is sort of out of the question. He has modified it.”
    “I must see this for myself.”
    Sarek tried to ignore the look on his wife’s face, of guilt and disappointment.  She was not sentimental. She was even hard edged for a human, but how could she not have the strength to take away the box from a small child?   It was caused by an emotional handicap.  She probably imagined buying toys for her children one day, not expecting to have a half Vulcan child.
    Amanda did not believe in the acquisition of material items generally, so the behavior was not exactly expected of her. Amanda was very logical for a human. Unlike T’Par they did not argue over many things.  They might bicker.  There was enough tension already.  In taste, they were nearly equal. She would toss out more then he would.  They kept a clean, almost sterile house. They abhorred noise and chaos on the deepest level.  So, they made the most quiet comfortable house on the planet.  If she had been some sobbing fool, unaware of her actions, he would have left her on Earth. They spend most of their time together in deep meditation. He would not bring a woman to Vulcan who would not like it.
    Amanda knew him well enough by now.  While he had sufficient knowledge of the sciences and mathematics, his tastes ran to matters of civil discourse, Vulcan history and sensibilities.  It was not an attractive quality in a mate.  Vulcan women all secretly wished a handsome biologist or a priest, not some quibbler.  Even Sybok’s mother was disappointed when he ended up so venal, though she didn’t ever express it directly.  T’par was a very stern woman, but sometimes she was not always satisfied in her marriage, as if she could feel guilt or shame. Amanda enjoyed their time together. Their interests overlapped more times than not. Amanda was friendly, spirited, vital and always curious about the world.  She even liked animals and children.
    Amanda was much like him.  On these deep levels - not on shallow things that mattered to the masses.
    They walked into the room and Amanda had put the toy on the top shelf.  Spock was enthused to see his toy.  It was not a joyful reaction,  but very close to it. “Here is your Kitty, Spock. Don‘t cut your fingers.”
    When the cat was in his hands, Spock banged in on the floor like a frilled mouse with a nut.  He was not listening to its syrupy sweet song or emulating its silly dance.  He shook it until he had it upside down.  Whereby he opened the back compartment were the servo mechanisms were powered.
    “What is he doing?”
    “He wants to see how it works.”  She said “He tears it apart and puts it back together the best he can. “He’s such a little Vulcan.” Amanda said grinning.  His wife had changed greatly, and the love of their bond swirled in his mind.
                    ********

    It is nighttime and Spock is in his crèche, but the servant has left the window open.  Children are susceptible to chills and extreme temperatures.  He took great pains to place this crèche when he built it for Sybok, to make sure it was shadowy and cool, the mythological frieze still on the wall. But it was too cold at night and no one should ever keep the window open.    

    He took a soft blanket to warm the boy.
    Spock lay down and his father took a look at him when he was not going about his little business. The child had been busy for many hours with his tiny kitten robot and his letters and learning to waddle around the house on his own. Spock was an independent creature.
    Spock was in a semi-conscious state, lying on his back. His body was so warm.  He was roasting.  Sarek felt his pulse strong and hot.  Infants lost consciousness completely but small children would learn to meditate and cease their unessential functions and slow their metabolic process.  He was still in an in between state as his body was as warm as ever.
    This was not how Sybok slept.  No child would stay in an in between state so long. He could risk dying. He was making sharp snorting noises.  As if he were breathing out of a straw.  His eyes twitched.  He was not in a cease function state as Sybok, growing cold and still resting his hands on his belly.  His arms were uneven;  one curled up by his mouth, the other resting by his head like a human in an ancient painting, or paintings of that dead Jewish man everyone was so fond of depicting.  It did not look so restful. Spock was curled up in an odd configuration, little snorts as his mouth pursed and he licked his lips.  He was immobile but semi-conscious.
    Sarek is sure that something is wrong.  He goes to Amanda.  She is making a pleasantly soft Snzz into her pillow. She is on her back, her lips tacky with sleep.  She licks them. He had not known this before. Spock sleeps like a human.  He never watched Amanda sleep before because Sarek was not a strange voyeur yet…
    “Sarek.  Is that you?” Amanda’s tired voice rasps in his ear.
    “Amanda. It regrets me to interrupt your sleep but-
    “I am tired.  You can hold my hand while I sleep. Just don‘t wake me up.”
    “Amanda.  It is illogical to have pleasure with you when you are too tired. It is not about that.”
    “Sarek sssssssssh. Don‘t talk so loud,”
    “Amanda. Listen - I was watching Spock.  Does he sleep well?”
    “Um…”  Her brain does not start functioning in a rational capacity for some thirty seconds. “Oh.  What is wrong?  Does he have the sniffles?”
    “The sniffles?” He wonders why Amanda has given a name to the bout of respiratory distress and why it is so cute?  It is just like her to do something so irrational and endearing
    “Sniffles.” She makes the same noises, which he admits do have a sniff sniff sound.  Humans are excellent mimics and use onomatopoeia as slang terms. Since she duplicated the sound, she seems acquainted with the symptoms. This could be a symptom of an illness, and illness was very serious in infants.
    “Can’t we say Acute Respiratory Distress?”
    “We don’t call it that. We call them the sniffles so the kids don’t worry.”
    “I will call it Minor Respiratory Distress, but if it a symptom of another illness…”
    “He has terrible allergies, Sarek.”
    “There was no mention of this the last time I contacted you, You did not say that he had Minor Respiratory Distress.”
    “Well when it was serious I told you. When it was Chronic, I did not.” Amanda said. “I am sorry I prioritized our conversations.  If I told you every time I went to get Spock a shot of cortisone or switched him to a Gluten based flour or picked him off the ground when he bumped his elbow you would find it tedious. It was only logical”
    “In a family, it is important that we know what is going on.” Sarek said.  He had missed many things in the last year.
    Amanda sits up “I’ll show you the trick. It will help Spock sleep through the night”
    Amanda leads her husband down the hall to Spock’s crèche again.
    Amanda stopped by his bedside.  She touched Spock, and gently nudged him where he lay down.  She moved him only a slight degree at the wrong angle.  He was soon putting all of his weight on his arm and shoulder.  Sleeping on his side perpendicular to the bed. Immediately the noises stopped. Spock immediately sank deeper into sleep
    He sleeps at an angle which crushes his ear.  
    “Get those out of the way.  She folded back his ear and gently twisted his head.
“Have to get the antenna relays aligned,” She moved his ears almost forcefully, but he did not mind.  His ears were not so sensitive to the touch, rubbery and almost immobile even at the blood filled tips.  Like Amanda’s stout dead things.  You could pull on them and poke tiny metal barbs in them, like the Bajorans did.
    “Out like a light.  Old American Trick.”
    “He will crush his ear sleeping in this position. His face will be unsymmetrical.”
    “He will flip himself over in time.” She has a reassuring lilt in her voice, as if she means to comfort Sarek “It is cozy. An ancient human instinct.  It probably protects you from predators. Humans have been side sleepers for years.  Some of us even sleep on our bellies.  It allows us to conserve warmth and sleep comfortably in small places.”
    Spock’s legs curled instinctively.  He was sleeping in a tiny ball.
    “Let him sleep now.  He will be comfortable.” Amanda said
    Sarek felt compelled to reject her advice, “He might remove the blanket.”
    “Well place it on the bed Sarek.  He may wake in the night and need it. Humans do sleep in cycles.” She held his arm.    He placed the blanket on Spock and hovered over his bed
    “Fahver.  sleepeee, Mmmmm.” Spock mutters incomplete words.
    “Sarek you are going to awaken him.” Amanda whispered and hissed.
    Spock, with little effort and not breaking into wakefulness, did something even stranger then sleep perpendicular to his bed.  He curled the blanket up into a ball.  He then tucked the ball between his arms.  He drew it close like something precious.  Could it be that he smiled with an upturned mouth? Or did the angle of his head smashed the flesh of his lip into an odd shape that merely looked like a smile.  Soon he was sleeping even deeper.
    “Oh.” Amanda cooed “I am so sorry, adun. I did not mean to express...”  She was embarrassed of her outburst.  Only he would see it but still she had the good manners to apologize. “Isn’t he the… I mean…He is just so beautiful.”

    Sarek looks down.  His mind is greatly expanded and he must struggle to keep feelings of equanimity and calm.  Amanda could gush, she could radiate her warmth and love, but it was not the Vulcan way. If Sarek of Vulcan were to be happy, at this moment it would do no one good but himself.  It is one thing to eliminate negative emotions, but to truly be happy with no thought of the future is not the Vulcan way.  
    He has heard V’tosh Katur adepts  who have one emotion and with a breath allow it to exit into the air.  Like his wife’s laugh or the gentle light of the moons,  which slowly fade into dawn.  
    “I thought a cuddle was a polite post coital gesture.” Sarek says
    “It is an instinct too, for us savage humans.”
    “I think he prepares one day to nurse his child or lie right next to his squirming delicate little lover.”
    Amanda let Sarek kiss the top of her head.  She holds out her fingers.
    “He is such a little human.” Sarek said
    Spock was not making any decisions but doing what was very natural to him.

                    ********

    Sarek did not want to admit that Nursing his second son is a failure.  He should have let the matter go. Spock refused his father’s teat, and one could not reason with a baby.  Would it have been better if he had left it to Amanda or the wet-nurse, as he had with Sybok when he joined the Corp?  Spock was in his Year of Screams and he has missed many things in Spock’s development.
    When Vulcan children cannot effectively communicate they begin to become boisterous, impossible to censure.  They are also much stronger than human and Andorian or even Klingon children. They might only know one or two words. They cannot form telepathic bonds. They rely solely on the attentions of their parents. Everyone is taller and bigger than them.  Everything is built for bigger people.  They have no respite as they are stuck in their homes unable to fend for themselves.
They might have to wave their arms jump up and down. Even in their immature states cry and scream for attention.  It is the way things are.
    Sarek could not help but sympathize with the poor creature his son had become. Trying to see things from a different perspective was the hallmark of his talent. He had been with Klingons who spoke a very unpleasant language, ignored him and whose actions defied decent communal logic. If he had been inexperienced and frightened he might have started yelling and waving his arm gesticulating too.  T’Pim’s lesson did have some value after all. Because it caused him to not slam his fist on the table as he demanded the release of the prisoners.  He became so close to anger radiating from their speech alone that he had to meditate in silence for three days.
    Amanda was relieved and horrified to see such things, when she first came to Vulcan.  She laughed and said Vulcans must get all of their screaming done before Kahswan.
    Frustration and elation framed his tiny world, which made it impossible for him to be of any use to anyone. Spock had discovered a new word
    “Noooooo.  Nooooo.” Spock tried to wriggle away from his father.
    Sarek sat him on his lap. “Come now “
    “No.” Spock shook his head.
    Sarek said, “You are being difficult.”
    “Iwannaeat.”  he said.  His words mushed together, pronunciation not catching up with his mind. He knew quite a number of words now but they all came out as one word.
    Sarek shook his head“I want to understand you. Speak slowly.”
    “I want to eat. Hungwi.” Spock grabbed him on Sarek’s robe.
    “Just when I get him to speak correctly, there comes a more difficult word which he mispronounces.” Sarek soliloquized.  The misbehaving child had him talking to himself.
    “I am hungry.”  Spock said now in the peak of childhood anger, his little brain about to pop open. Spock was not capable of understanding why his own father was torturing him with elocution lessons when he was about to starve to death. This man was impossible.
    “I wish to nurse you. As your mother did. I am your parent,” Sarek said.
    Spock relented and settled on his father’s lap. Spock had seen that fathers and mothers had milk. This person had milk for him. The child looked for the nearest teat and started to suck.  It flowed immediately, and Spock swallowed it down.
    “You win this round Sarek.” Amanda said.  She watched them both.  She was always fascinated with the concept of males nursing their young.  He was not sure why, as male humans had nipples too.  
    Sarek had taken special pains to get his milk flowing before he made the decision. The midwife had very careful instructions on the mantras and mudra needed to produce healthy milk for a child.  Amanda’s milk was from his mother's body, and made for him to eat.
    To expect him to feed on a new food source might be difficult.  Human milk was said to be incredibly sweet and delicious, though Sarek did not every feel tempted to try it.  Sarek had only known the milk of his mother. He did not have the ability to discern its flavor. But Sarek only had two taste buds, papillary organs were vestiges of savage Vulcans who were omnivores and needed to discern safe food sources.  Humans had thousands and Spock “Split the difference” at fifty to seventy taste buds.
    To feed the young was something that took great concentration in males.  Most modern families did not bother, unless theirs was a low household, where both parents needed an income.  But Sarek thought that he had been away for too long and he and his child were not especially bonded. Spock was both his son and a stranger.  He had taken great pains to watch over Sybok even though he had never officially nursed him.  He was young then and had few responsibilities - and no wife.
    Nursing would teach Spock that he could be trusted and provide succor.  Sarek needed a break to realign his katra, and deal with his home life. It may provide time to teach the child the rudiments of psychic control. He remembered many warm times with his mother, feeling her presence dispelling his childish fears.  He could feel with her.  He never had that bond of understanding with his own father.  He posited it might come from the nursing bond.
    Spock suckled, taking a few pulls and sucking hard.  The unexpected thing was his teeth were sharpish. Sarek persisted, as he had not expected a job like this to be pleasant.  He huffed at Spock’s breath on his teat and his sensitive chest.
    “I am not hungRY.”  Spock pouted.  “Can I go make my robut?” he said.  “Issa Kitty.”
    There were too many things to correct immediately. Spock was still so young.
    Amanda said “You actually impressed me.  You are a very good parent, Sarek.  Make him drink more next time. He will be hungry again. In about ten minutes.”
    “I am determined to make this work.” Sarek said “I appreciate your counsel.  I will continue this course of action and nurse him. It is what nature intended. ”
    But it was not as Spock intended.  Whatever they said about Spock, the boy was a force of nature himself.
    A few hours later the tray of laorr rolls with imported olive oil was over turned in the kitchen.  Amanda was startled by the noise. There was evidence that this was no accident or rodentia.  On the crime scene there was an abundance of evidence, a small toy screw driver, an open drawer at a tiny boy's height and a trail of greasy little hand and foot prints leading down the hall.  The stolen roll had two bites from.  Because the Laorr was hot out of the oven, one of the bites spit up on the floor.
    The suspect, Spock, not generally a thumb sucker, licked his fingers all afternoon.  The culprits were not punished because of being too cute. Spock was only trying to feed.  Perhaps more evidence that Sarek should give up his quest to nurse his son.
    A battle over feeding escalated yet again at dinner and Spock refused to admit hunger.  He would not be allowed to leave until he drank.  He took a few empty pulls and bit down.  His son had blooded him.  Sarek winced.  And Spock started to wince in sympathy.
    “You will go to bed without sustenance if you do not eat now. Your nutritional intake will not be compromised but it will be very uncomfortable.”
    “NOOOOOO!”  Spock said screwing up his lips.  “I don’t want to EAT!  NO!”
    Spock was fussy and was put to bed, most likely hungry as he had ever been. He bit Amanda. With a great force, he declared his hunger, insensible and without words. He was fussing all night. Even the implacable Amanda, who could not take the upset of her house, fed him in the night.  She was ashamed she gave in,  Spock gave his father an angry look as he practically drained her dry and became so full he hiccupped.  He started to cry afterwards like a human alcoholic.  
    She rubbed a wound on her breast as Spock ran away.  He was overcome. Spock really didn’t know why he was crying, losing track of the grave injustices committed against him.  
“I hate it.  NO nooooooooooo. I hate you all MEAN!  I HATE YOU! NOOOOO!”  he rattled his crib bars like they were a cage.  
    Amanda was a very strong willed woman and she let him scream and cry right in her face.  She was a very strict disciplinarian. Spock was ferberized, and made to self soothe in his crib. Amanda was sure of this method as she had been raised the same way.  He must be allowed to cry and scream until he fell asleep.  It was a surprisingly Vulcan tactic, though most mothers did not have the constitution to endure the loud cries of their young.  Maybe Spock was unusual. Or Maybe Amanda’s poor ears could handle the assault.  She acted like this was the most ordinary thing in the world, watching your child have a screaming attack and then looking at them calmly.
    In the night they retreated to their Bedroom.  Unlike Sarek, Amanda spent many hours sleeping. So when they slept at the same time, she would often ignore her sleeping territory.  Sometimes She would lie next to him.  She was completely at ease around him.  Sometimes they would push the beds together
    “He gets riled up.  He’s got a set of lungs.” said Amanda, getting into Sarek’s bed.
    “And many other appendages which cause his screams to be forceful.  Is that the human or the Vulcan in him?” Sarek asked.
    “It’s the Vulcan. I have never heard a kid that loud.  It must be like murder for you Babe.”  She affectionately scratched his hair behind the ears.
    “Is he well?  He must not cry so loudly unless he were in serious pain.” Sarek asked.
    “He is just using terrorist tactics.  If he can’t manipulate us he will scream us out.  Give it time.  He will crack.  You are a skilled diplomat.  I think you would recognize emotional blackmail.”
    They sat reading in bed and listening carefully until they were sure the howling tyrant that had conquered their lives had been laid out by an exhausting sleep.
    Sarek was a bit dismayed tried to suppress maudlin thoughts. “He is only three years old.  The parenting material says to wean your children at 5.  Sybok was six before he would stop asking his nurse for milk. Sybok never spent more than a few moments crying.”
    “Well Sybok, bless his heart, is spoiled.  He still sucks his thumb when he studies.” She mimicked Sybok’s undignified sprawl on the couch when he was studying his graphs. “No boy of mine will be a thumb sucker.  Knowing the significance of hands in courtship ritual, it's like asking everyone you know for oral sex.”
    Sarek had to correct her misconception. “That begins once he’s a child, not a nursling on the teat.”
    “Not in my house.” Amanda said “Spock has it hard enough with rubbery ears and seventy taste buds and allergies.  He will not be a whiny little brat. My father was a disciplinarian and I think when he was alive I benefited greatly.”
    Sarek was still preoccupied with his failure. “He is a nursling’s age.  He should still be drinking from his mother and father.  There is no reason why he should not breast feed.”
    “He is part human.  I think it might be… human thing.”
    “Do you have any further insight, wife?”
    “I think it might be my fault.“ Amanda had that guilty look on her face.
Sarek sat down.  “What are you speaking of, my wife?”
“After his third set of teeth came in, it became difficult.  I think he realized he was hurting me.  I tried to reassure him. But he didn’t want to hurt me.  He stopped.  The age for humans is less than a year sometimes.  Usually when the teeth come in.”
    “It is my problem.“ Sarek said “Perhaps I am to blame, since he will not drink from me and he will drink from you.  It is an equally logical scenario.”
    “Well he hasn’t wanted to in a while.” Amanda said.   “Babies can eat food too.  There are other ways to bond with your children than feeding them your milk.”
    “What does he eat?” Sarek asked
    “Mush.  Which I can teach you to make.  He likes the fruit from the garden.  The old crab apple tree is going crazy this year.” Amanda said.  “He likes fruit.“
    “Fruit you say?” Sarek asked.
    “I think you regret spending so much time devoted to getting your milk to come in, trying to be a good daddy.”  she hugged him.
    “It is merely a meditation technique.  Stop poking at it…. Now.”  He poked her in the shoulder.
    “Do I have to be the first person to say you have a nice rack?”  She lowered her head against on his shoulder
    “That is not a compliment on your planet, and I know this.” Sarek pulled away from her returning to his own bed, leaving her unbalanced and nearly fell off her bed.
****
    Spock was three now - as his anniversary of his birth approaches.  Crushing apples and vegetables did not have a long-term appeal to Sarek.  In reality it is hard work, and without the flushes of adoration Spock gives his mother, it is thankless. The surge of sentimental paternal instinct, which is supposed to be instigated with nursing, was denied him.  The child cries. The child is hungry, and his mind can’t begin to see you in the proper place.  Spock, a small child, was naturally self-absorbed and cannot imagine the world outside his own home.  Sarek does not have the constitution for such work.
    Spock awakened one night sitting straight up and demanding protection. ”Help! I am not Safe!”
    Amanda jumped out of her bed quicker then she had ever managed when Sarek needed her. “Spock!”
    He looked at Amanda and said: “You are not big enough.  We need father.”
    The strangest request, but Sarek, being curious, was already there.
    “Father I am not safe here.”
    Spock fumbled for his father's hand.  He transmitted him strange images.
    “I fell down.  I thought I was going to die.  I didna’even fall down…  I was falling… Up.  and the  The whole world went sideways and then upside down.  Down was up and Up was down.”
    “That is completely impossible.” Sarek said, trying to understand what Spock showed him.  He shrugged off the boy's hand
    Spock told his mother. “I fell off the ground and into the sky. Everything was wrong.  I called out but Mother could not catch me before I fell down into the stars!  She was scareder then me! Everything was wrong.  I tried to grab onto the roof but everything fell.”
    Spock did not cry, to his credit. He is not at an age where everything is screamed.  He can say his simple thoughts until now. He could not  describe his experience.
    “Oh baby. It was a nightmare.  It cannot get you in the real world. You are safe here on the ground.” Amanda tried to calm his screams.
    “I do not know that, Mother!” Spock gritted his teeth. “You tell me things to keep me from being sad or scared.” He waved his arms, “Father can such a thing happen?  You will not lie to me.  And know everything.  And Mother, while is just as learned, will not tell me the truth every single time. Vulcans tell the truth.”
    “I don’t understand what you mean, Spock.”  Sarek said “Your shouting is unacceptable.”
“It was very upsetting.” Spock shouts again. “I don’t want to go to bed.  I’ll fall!”
    “Calm down.  We will do a mind meld together when you are no longer in an agitated state. Rest here in your bed, and I will come for you in an hour.”
    Sarek was ready for bed, but he had promised Spock that he would mind meld with him.
    pock came into his room.  He stood by his father’s bed
    “Is there something you want to say Spock?” Sarek asked trying not to awaken Amanda. She was awakened anyway.
    “My emotions have passed. I do not remember why I was brought into such an emotional state..”
    “What?” Sarek asks.  Amanda stares at him.  She is awakened from slumber and moans like she is in pain. Then pretends to snore.
    “I had emotions and now they are gone.  Like I have passed them out of my system.”
    “Maybe it is best.” Amanda said. “I told you it was just a nightmare Spock.  Not real. You are safe and it is time to sleep. You are in the real world now.” Amanda said that strange term.
    “It could be impossible for this to happen.  And the circumstances of the dream are vague..”
    “Very well.” Sarek said. “We will not need to mind meld.

    Spock grabbed his blanket. “Have I upset you father?” Spock asked
    “I am not upset.  I did not understand and I will not understand.” Sarek said
    “I am sorry to have ruined your day.”
    “You did not ruin my day.” He said “It is the middle of the night. Go to your Crèche, Spock.”
    
    About five minutes later Sarek was roused from a semi-somnolent state to full wakefulness.”
    Spock was literally sitting on his chest.
    “Father”
    “Father “
    “Fa fa father.  Father
    “What is it Spock?” Sarek tried not to make his voice too loud.
    “Father I am sorry…”  He wrapped his hands around Sarek’s neck
    “Spock. Please go to your crèche.”
    “I will shortly.” Spock said, nestling in.
    Sarek closed his eyes “I forgive you.” Sarek said, even though there was nothing to forgive. Those were the right words. It was the only thing that removed the clinging little monkey from his chest.  Spock hopped down and wandered to his crèche.

                    ********

    Sarek, having a free afternoon, decided to investigate what had come over Spock - his unusual behaviors.  It occurred to him that Spock and Amanda share a skill he does not.  He must dream.
    He tried to research the phenomena of dreams and dreaming and there was no definitive reason, purpose or theory.  It is as broad and varied a category as any of the studies he had made of alien culture.  It is referenced many times throughout many cultures. It has been written about in psychology, in mythology, even in artwork.
    The altered state of consciousness is so different from his. He will never forget what Amanda called it: “The Real World.” Amanda calls the state she Spock and Sarek inhabit 'the real world'.  It is more than just a planet or a galaxy.  It is everything seen, heard and measured. That which is the world of Logic.  Ch’thia
    But there is a thin layer which only the higher conscious states can perceive without body.  A thin layer of Ch’thia.  All that is which no Vulcan has ever seen.  Spock spent most nights there, perpendicular to his bed curled in a ball.
    Vedk (now Kai) Olena said it was visions of the night.  Amanda calls this state the Dream world.  He marvels at the idea that one might travel to different worlds with a consciousness, though it may be glorified way to explain insanity.
    Over many years Sarek read many things about dreams. If he had the academic capacity he would be an expert on this, and come up with a theory.  Humans have studied it since time immemorial, as well as Bajorans and Klingons.  Vulcans may have once dreamed.  For how could such leaps of logic take place in their quest to follow the path of logic and live, long healthful lives?  He wondered if Romulans slept. It would be telling.
    A few nights a week he would sit by his son's bed watching him sleep, then waking him seeing if he remembers something.  Sarek remembers his fear of sleeping alone and how he did not conquer or suppress it, but ignored it, until the day Sybok and T’par came from the Cave of Beginnings.  For a child is likely to die - he heard about the little ones drifting away unable to control their minds.  He can ignore but not suppress only for so long, he can even divert his fears into that of his children.
    Spock has no such fears, he may have a nightmare.
    “Father I cannot sleep so well when you are nearby. Can you go into your room?” Spock asks sitting up rubbing his hot green face.
    “I apologize for interrupting your slumber.“ Sarek said “Here I will assist you in sleeping deeply.” He said. He carried Spock into the kitchen.
    He set Spock on the high stool.  Spock is like Vulcan children as he has  a sense of balance.  He got a cup, and tea, harsh Yellowed H’ri Root tea.  Spock cannot drink a whole cup of hot tea by himself as he is a small child so he gives him a sip from the cup. “Drink this.”
    Spock took a  finicky sip.  He sticks out his long tongue.
    Sarek took out a small spoon from Amanda’s tools and a small jar. “This is twilmak.  Will you take it?”
    Spock watched him so carefully. At first  Sarek is confused. Soon he realized that he stared at the chemical reaction. The way the water went from clear to brown to green.  Spock motioned him for the spoon like a technician motioning for a tool.  Like he wanted to look at everything.  Sarek watched him play with the spoon. His great big eyes intently focused on his actions.
    “I will eat this.” Spock said.
    Sarek nodded. “I will buy you a chemistry set so you can watch chemicals mix and interact in far more interesting reactions.”  Sarek said, more to himself as Spock was indiscriminately fascinated by everything these days.  He likes the heat in his hands.  He likes the way the light hit the glass.
    Sarek put the cup to Spock’s lips and he took another sip.  That was a more palatable flavor.
    “Papa Father… You are not gonna go away for-e-bah?”
    “Spock.”
    “Are you going... To go forever?” Spock asked
    “Forever…  no?  I do not believe if I had my choice, I would go now. If it was my choice” He sat Spock down. “Do not spill the drink. It is very hot.”  Spock sat up primly and tried to hold onto the cup.
    Sarek only turned around for a single moment to get a towel to clean up the mess “If you must know. Twilmak is a sweetener but it is an herbal remedy used for sleeplessness and coughs. It induces a calming-”
    The boy is slumped over on the table hands around the cup,  holding it up but asleep.
    Sarek moved the cup “Spock? Are thee sleeping my child?”
    Spock is completely exanimate.  He carried Spock to the couch.  He is beginning to formulate a theory.  Perhaps it was too effective a sleep remedy for humans.  He went to get his wife.
    The boy snorted, a wet disgusting noise. At least he is not crippled by sleep apnea.
    Sarek should suppress relief there is no permanent damage.  But he lets out a breath “Amanda.”
    “You two finish your talk?” She asked walking into the kitchen“Maybe you should freshen up your material.”
    “Amanda are you implying my conversation is not interesting enough?” Sarek deconstructed her joke.
    “You said it.” She took a cup for Hri of her own.
    “I made him tea. Is Spock allergic to either Twilmak or Hri Root?”
    Amanda‘s face went white and about to spit up her own tea “Twilmak? You mean Vulcan Opium?”
    Amanda rushed to the couch and snatched the cup from him “Sarek. It’s an opiod.  It has the same chemical structure as Codeine.  It’s a level E narcotic. You can’t buy it on Earth since you can only get it with a special liscence from the federation, usually only reserved for terminal patients.”
    “That is illogical. It is the most effective medicine to treat coughs in both Humans and Vulcans.”
    “Because humans are so responsible when it comes to narcotics.” Amanda practically snarled at him.
    “Your species is prone to addiction to the most inane things.” Sarek said
    “We have addictive personalities. I am sorry.  I will have to call the doctor.  He looks sleepy.” She held him. “It's okay. Spock-ashal-veh.” She cradles his body. “How much did you give him?”
    “I did not mean to drug him insensible.  It is a shameful thing.  I only wished to ease his mind on my departure and have a talk.” Sarek has done that which he has sworn never to do.  To drug his own child.  He feels great guilt.  He did not know that such a small dose would induce in him complete catatonia.
    “He is going to be out for when you leave for Earth.” Amanda holds him close. “If he is addicted to heroin when he wakes up I swear I am not speaking to you for a month.”
    “Amanda.  Is it proper we have an argument so close to my departure?”
    “Well If I am mad at you it’s best you have four star systems between us.”
    “It may be a fortuitous mistake. It may be best that he not subject himself to negative emotions my departure will cause.  And it will give the two of us time to prepare a proper goodbye.”
    “You are such a baby. You can’t say goodbye to your son.”  She tsked her tongue gently.
    “He is a grave emotional liability to me.  I will be back much sooner than before.  I will be gone for five to seven weeks.”  
    Amanda looks at him, “Sarek, I am pretty sure he is okay, but…”
    “I have -” Sarek stammered over his thoughts.  He normally did not.  He did not express himself, but this must be said. “When I was a boy, almost a nursling, I was having a profoundly negative emotional reaction. My father, wishing me to not be overcome with emotion once drugged me so I would sleep. “
    Amanda rarely got angry.  She was stunned into silence.  There was no doubt that she was only beginning to unleash her anger at him.“Someone did this to you because…  Because you were crying.  Because you were laughing.  And you did this to Spock.”
    “No.  My father made an error. I never was able to suppress or make sense of this memory…  It has contributed more harm then the limited good.” Sarek said “When emotions are given too much weight, they exacerbate.  It is not a beneficial activity.” He said “I did not mean to deceive my son similarly.”
    “Maybe.” She said. She still was not yelling at him. She should be using the power of her righteous anger to new alimentary canal. (Or as she put it tearing him a new asshole)
    “I know it is hard to discern from my countenance.” Sarek said “I did not poison my own child.”
    “Then give me my hand Husband.  So that I know that your conscious is clear.”
    “Conscious is a human construct which is an emotional crutch to prod them into ethical decisions.” Sarek hissed.     
    “Ethical decisions do not comprise innocent mistakes Sarek. Maybe there is a part of you that does not realize what you feel.  A subconscious-”
    “Vulcans have no subconscious as we are fully aware of our cognitive…”
    She held out her fingers from her hand. Judging sharp eyed.
    “I do not know what I will find if I meld with you.  If I meant it or not. He is my son and my feelings for him are deep and intense. I do not begin to know how to control these feelings, or how these emotions control me.  My logic is uncertain.”
    “Depth of feeling is not weakness .  And I understand your need for Privacy.” Amanda said.  “But don’t give him drugs…  Just ask me.” Amanda said.  “I will stay up with Spock.  I believe you need to ruminate on the nature of your mistakes, before morning transport.”
    Amanda said “I forgive you if he’s not harmed.” She said “But you Sarek, can you forgive yourself.”
    Amanda said nothing holding her son making sure his sleep was not a loss of consciousness, and Sarek retreated to the depths of the house to his moonrise employment and to make his correspondence. Soon the two of them were both sleeping on the couch in the cool midnight air, not even making it to the bedroom. Taizil would have an emotional reaction when he saw Amanda sleeping in a place that was not designated for sleeping.  Like probably even worse then the time when Amanda said she wanted to move one of the dining room chairs into another place in the house.  He paused to view them and see if he could return Amanda to sleep. But the living room chairs were soft and human manufacture, probably softer then the bed, which may strain the back, but not seriously.  His mate and child.  While the aesthetics of resting on the couch, there was a gravity to the image that never truly left him.  Amanda’s mouth wet.  Spock’s face seeking warmth in her soft yielding bosom.  This was not a place for him.
    An earlier transport was scheduled at dawn, not in the morning. The transport would arrive just early enough for him to avoid their awakening.  In the Vulcan sunrise he watched them curl on the couch, leaving her a message and Taizil to tell them he had gone earlier, as would be the Vulcan custom.  It was the best solution as he would not have to upset Amanda with his lack of grace and mistakes and Spock would not be physically capable to awaken because of his mistake.
    He slipped out of the house into the cold and then the Black of space.

Chapter Text

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.

He is a boy.  
    Everything is skinny and bony. His Mother said he resembled “the branches on a tree.” It sounds like one of the Ancient Poems she studied so carefully. It is a common saying among the Vulcan, though like all simile, meaningless. There are few trees on Vulcan. It is easier to find bleached skeletons picked clean of meat, white jagged mountains and awkward boys who have impossible rules to follow. Many years ago Lord Father Ti’Valkahain # supplied his children with green trees and wells, and T‘khut #the Watcher set her eyes on the world in Gentleness, there were many green trees.  But that was before the beginning of the world. Still somehow Vulcans used these words.  Tree, Ice, Heart, Love. Vulcan was never a kind or safe home but Lord Father Ti’Vulkahain gives his children a hidden blessing one that takes many years to discover. For those who do not return to the ground in death are sharpened by it. The Watcher has her gifts as well just as subtle, which that day Sarek was about to receive.
    Sarek was walking home from school that day.  The Proctor had affixed to his daily report an amendment and two demerits for his boisterous behavior during a lecture. Sarek reread it three times while on the path home. What more terrible thing could happen?
    “Sarek, mind your footing we are coming to the ravine. You will trip.”  T’par said reminding him to pay attention to the real world.  The 6.85 meter jump over the ravine reduced their travels to and from school, though it avoided the major thoroughfares of Shikar.  The walk was neither far nor bereft of interesting sights.
     "Sarek-kam! Do not waste time. We have other matters to attend to." T’par shouted back to him.
    “This report is inaccurate. It should include, The Fact 'Sarek answered all the questions correctly.'”  Sarek said “I did answer the questions with the correct answers.  That is the only thing my father will care about.”  Sarek tried to hack the teacher’s security code and amend the report with a more complete picture of the truth so his father would see that his teacher, not he, was in the wrong.
    The teacher had changed his code from last month when Sarek had brought back a similar report to his parents. Sarek began to engage his code breaker algorithm he kept nested as a natural language Xml file on his portable memory drive, easily hidden and changed. He arranged during play time when it was too stormy to play. It was 71% faster at breaking random number strings than his last attempt. He was gazing at the PADD screen to watch the digits whir and spin into place.
    "If you studied as hard as you try to forge our teacher's signature..." She shook her head. T’par said pulling the PADD away. Sarek broke out of his trance-like concentration
    “It is not a forgery!  That is a crime. It‘s just more fun to break the code.”
    The new code was inscrutable for now.  The Proctor of Discipline had learned Sarek was good at breaking passcode protected files and most seemingly random data strings. He wondered if he could hide the PADD somewhere in his house or drop it in the sewer before his father opened the file. Would that be dishonest if the report itself was dishonest? Maybe he was attempting a crime, as T'par said.
    “The lecture was a rhetorical device.” T’par explained.
    “He should not have asked questions if he did not wish them answered.” Sarek said.
    “It was a lecture Sarek on the nature of Philosophy.  It was Rhetorical structure to emphasize the salient points of his discussion.” T’par said. “So that with our limited amount of information as children, he can help us reach the correct logical solution according to tradition.”
    “A tradition that does not make sense.” Sarek said.
    “Your hand was up in the air, the whole time Sarek asking for the Proctor of Lectures to call on you. When you were not addressed by the proctor you merely said the answers aloud to me… or to yourself.  You should be ashamed of yourself.” T’par shook her head. Her tight bun bobbing as she scolded him.  Haduni T’par was very animated in her criticism. Both intellectually and physically. Sarek had a desire to see her wagging head break off her slender neck, but this was illogical and violent image.
    Sarek said “Well I was unfamiliar with this Socratic method. If he was going to answer his own questions then why did he not tell us.  Or merely speak plainly.”
    “Philosophy is not supposed to be plain.” T’par said “It is one of the Elegant Sciences to be treasured and worshipped as it brings us to greater knowledge of C’thia. It is through Philosophy that the nature of the mind can be reached quickest.  Surak was above all a Philosopher”
    Sarek straightened his pack, put away his PADD and portable memory device, before he made the leap, Clearing 4.3 meters and grabbing on an outcropping. Last time he missed the jump he dirtied his school uniform.
    T’par said as she helped him back to the road “It is one thing to answer the questions posed during the lecture.  But to ASK questions during a lecture is rude. It shows lack of gentlemanly comportment.  It is a wonder they did not send you home for your disrespect.”
    “I am…  unrepentant.” Sarek made the decision not to have an emotional reaction about it like shame or fear.  Though it would curtail his free time for a few days as Skonn told him he would be restricted to the compound for a month if his grade point average lowered beyond a set parameter. He was hovering towards that number.
    She held up her PADD. “I have been given a half demerit, myself, For telling you to be quiet in an unladylike tone.” T’par expressed her disappointment in an equally undignified manner, instead of squashing it. “How I wish we were not intended this day.” Her cowardice earned T’par Demerits in Sarek’s record… if he had one.  Sometimes females were so illogical and tried to ingratiate themselves to the Proctor. Injustice
    He carried his bag, the fruit of his breakfast making it heavy. “I do not care about school.  I only care about learning.  I don’t care if they think I am the worst student in the Academy, If I don’t learn anything and get good grades and positive reviews it will still be a waste of time.  Even though my father would be happy. I just want to know the answers to my questions.”
    “You will never have good grades, so you do not need to worry about it.”  T’par said snidely. “I must tell your Father you were given demerits for disrupting class. If you will not tell him.” She said “Lying is not logical. It should be a crime.”
    “I am not lying.  I have Never told Father the Proctor of Discipline did not give me demerits.” He said wondering if he could hide his PADD from Skonn. He wondered if it would be terrible deed. Would it be terrible to think about trying to lie? “Father does not know how hard it is to be honest.  He would not make me heed his words if he did.”
    “It is not hard to be honest if you do only good things and never risk yourself in doing things that might even hint to be illogical.” T’par said, of course she would
    Sarek looked down at his boots."But what if you make frequent mistakes in your logic. Or things progress outside of your control." He hefted his large pack. He hoped there was enough food in it.
    They would walk to the great old tree of several centuries age, a tree with roots so tall the exceeded the height of even a fully grown Vulcan. The roots formed a hedge that was deeper then a cave. It was from a time when trees grew plentiful in the region and the underground caverns over spilled into a tiny stream. It was called the Lonely Love Tree, for all her tree friends and tree husbands are dead.  The widow sits alone her roots sunk into an underground river, the only tree to survive in the region. Though it was an apt metaphor, it was an unsuitable use of slang for a gentleman. Modern people do not anthropomorphize as the ancients did.  
    The children of the neighborhood would play at the mouth of the hedge cave, and hide there in the cool. There are stories about a little boy named Tarosh who lived long ago, who died and whose katra was not at rest. Tarosh buried a box holding a secret. Even after four hundred  and twenty years, little Vulcans still try to dig it up, curious as to what a secret looks like (as secrets are rare in a telepathic species.)  But they never try hard enough despite the curiosity. There might never have been a secret at all.  The tree is important area to Sarek, there is a sacredness about it.
T’par’s house was 0.75 miles to the east of the old Tree and his was 0.38 miles west.  But T’par frequently made the trip all the way to the Lonely Love Tree, though she was at a tactical disadvantage. Though she made many attempts to clearly mark the half way point between their houses. Usually with a stick or a Rock or a flag.  It would blow away in a storm or fade under the Watcher’s gaze.
    “We must return immediately.” T’par was very honest all the time.  She never had any difficulties and looked perfect lady.  She even  plaited her hair perfectly.   Her hair in a perfect little circle, six perfect tendrils of curls placed equidistant around her brow. “We must be home before the sun goes down.  If we continue at this pace there will be time for tea and intercourse at my domicile. Mother is very adamant that we do not get caught out in the dark. Latest reports show a pride of le-mataya have become adaptive to the sonic frequencies of the perimeter defenses of the suburbs and hunt at night. Haduni T‘polin lost an arm in an attack and must miss one week of school.  She is deformed.”
    “I will part with thee here. I have to go to the hedge.  I have an obligation.
    “A social obligation in a hedge?” T’par asked “Explain.”
    Sarek lead her into the dark hole at the base of the Lonely Love Tree where the roots make a hedge. “I will show you.  It is in the Hedge, near the bottom.”
    She sniffed the air peering into the dark.  “It is an animal down there. I can smell it. Is it a dangerous animal?”
    “Last week, I was caught out in the dark on the outer banks. I was picking wild fruits to make Mother’s best tea and I ran into an animal. He was eating garbage from a broken recycling unit. He was going to attack me. So I have committed Mokfar.“ Sarek said “I was inexpert and addled his mind.”
    “Mokfar.  No one does that anymore. It is dangerous." T'par shook her head ."You should have called game wardens.” She gasped “You could have lost your mind and become like an animal.” Mokfar was for monks, where one would merge one’s mind with an animal, and read it’s thoughts.
    “There was no time.  I had no means to defend myself.”  He said “I must have done it without thinking, thus was unable to control myself, and cannot undo it.” Sarek looked  “He does not wish to return to the wild.  He has been in this cave hiding from the game wardens.”
    “What are you doing now?” T’par asked.
    “This is my lunch.  I did not wish to take from the family kitchens so the servants will know I have done Mokfar. If I took from the night meal Mother would ask me why I needed so much food. It is necessary that I do not eat at least one meal while providing for his needs.  He will try to rummage through waste receptacles and recycling units if not fed.” Sarek said “It is only fair and ethical I help the beast and see it is not harmed.” Sarek said.
    “You bend the spirit of the laws Sarek-kam.” T’par said. “You should tell your mother what you do, she only wishes to see to your safety and comfort. Her chastisement while unpleasant is not excessive.  She will know what to do and have access to more resources to help.”
    “She will not understand.  This sehlat is under my geis.” Sarek laid out the fruits “He is my responsibility.  If I must forbear from food to attend to his needs, then it must be so.  I must.”
    T’par changed her tonality.  “It is a Sehlat.  Your wild beast?”
    “Yes.” Sarek said.
    She followed him into the hedge. The sunlight became dim and sharply entering through tiny cracks. “Sehlat are my favorite animal.” She said watching. “You have said sehlat,  that does not seem so bad. Not all sehlat are even wild.  It maybe not so dangerous.”  
    “You must live in equanimity with the natural world.  It is illogical to have favorite and hated things.” Sarek said. “Sehlat have the right to live in peace. If I had said k’nurt or something boring you would not be supportive.”
    “I know I said foolish things, before. But this is now. Let me see Sarek.  I wish to see the Sehlat. Please let me.” She asked over and over.
    “Fine, It must be brief. We must get home before dark.  Even a sehlat will hide if the le-mataya break past the border and roam the settlement.” Le-mataya would not eat out of recyclers and hide. The le-mataya would kill as many Vulcan children as they could and escape into the mountains. Anyone too slow to run and too foolish not to carry a weapon would be prey to them.
    T’par forgot her demure manners at the prospect of seeing a sehlat. She could not help spurting out statements that reflected more than curiosity and an expert's fascination, but excitement.
    “Their pediomorphic features are very psychologically comforting.  His big eyes and little hands. They walk in a halting amusing manner.”  T’par said.  “Sehlat are special.  Though I intellectually know they are dangerous, they are as the Qomi call it cute.  I never saw one so close. Do you think the Mokfar will still be strong enough even a day later?  Do you think he will stay in this cave?”
    "I do not know. I am no expert on Mokfar. We will have to run from him if the Mokfar has ended, he may try to bite us."
    T'par continued “My grandmother T'les was a famous Naturalist and zoologist. She did Mokfar with a southern Spotted Sehlat and it came to live in her house. Before the urbanization of the region. It was a deterrent to le-mataya and night hawks.  It was very loyal to children.  My mother said that Shikari nor-sehlat are too big and I could not have even a tame southern one until I had my womanhood rites.”
    He was a handsome animal with brown fur and thick velvet paws. The sehlat lifted his great face, large eyed and intelligent and yawned, taking a big sniff of the air surprised it was not nighttime. He yawned and scratched a itch on his belly, rows of jagged teeth, white with adolescence. He smelled Vulcans.
    "It be a nor-sehlat. And Young. They are the biggest species since the Cold Age. He will probably grow another meter. And gain another fifteen pounds of muscle."
    The Sehlat recognized Sarek and lumbered over. As many of the species on Vulcan, at least the long lived ones, Sehlat were territorial, but ultimately a sleepy race.  The teeth which were of such a fearsome length were for cracking cactuses and melons.  They would not like to chase down their food.  They could spend one week digging up a potato patch, and spend seven days waiting for a man to fall of a cliff instead of chasing him. They had no endurance and hated running in the sun. They were brave, A lone sehlat would try to save his young from a whole le-mataya pride. His claws were so swift they could even catch a lanka-gar eagle in flight that harassed the soft cubs. Sehlat cubs were hard find, even photographs.  They were soft and furry and not seen except by the most committed naturalists.  There were only a few pictures of them on the nets.  But Vulcan Children and women had an affinity for them and they became some of Vulcan’s most popular images. As popular as pictures of Aunt T’pau.  He was a beautiful regal sehlat.  T’par was most impressed by it. “Have you done this to change my opinion of you, Sarek-kam?”
“I have done this to prevent my being devoured by a storm starved Sehlat.”  Sarek said. “I did not know you like animals.” Sarek should have known that he could not have hidden an expression of guilt  from such a sophisticated woman such as T’par.  She was almost 11.   
    The sehlat ate his globe melon with one bite.  It was omnivorous preferring moles and bugs over man flesh, but it was the stormy season.  It may be ready to eat anything, and it had already ranged all the way to the edges of the suburbs.
    T’par was so close to him the sehlat noticed her. The sehlat sniffed T’par and gave her an indifferent snort.  Sehlat males co-nursed their young as Male Vulcans did. Most breeds were friendly with children if tamed or in Mokfar.  
    “Maybe he will have a mate with cubs.  I have seen images of sehlat Cubs in the documentary. 'The life cycle of sehlat' is the best documentary ever made. They are even more-”
    T’par could not finish her sentence, the sehlat carefully grabbed her like a stalk of sugar stem. His claws avoiding her skin. He licked her, as he had Sarek after he tried to break the Mokfar.  He sniffed her and gave her another lick. The musk on his tongue claiming the two young Vulcans as his property/children/favorite butt-scratching post.  So no one would steal them. Sarek had underwent several indignities and even a sand scouring could not eliminate the smell.
    Her hair clip fell off.
    “Sehlat!  No.  You will injure her.  Stop.” Sarek hit the beast on his behind, grasping his fur. The Sehlat looked Surprised, but continued licking. Her hair pins popped out. The whining of the Vulcan boy irrelevant to him.  Sehlat cubs peeped and yelped loudly too, but the parents knew better.
    When T'par was bathed, and smelled like a sehlat, The sehlat let her down and fell on his backside. A few moments later he forgot her, eating a great big gespar in his tiny hands, but to the big sehlat It looked as small as a tiny nut.
    T’par was covered in slobber, her purple shawl had the evidence of claw prints covered in red mud.  And her hair was undressed.  She looked up, very young and sticky.  Not at all clean and pretty and perfect as she had always been.  Even her hair spilled out of is tight coiff and exploded into curls. T’par looked up, wiping drool off her chin and struggled to stand.
    “Oh my! T’par.” Sarek held her arm prepared to do first aid. “Are you injured? Can you speak?”
“Oh Sarek” Then it was a giggle escaped her lips as she retrieved her hair clip.   
Sarek jumped back from her a foot in the air.
Followed by a mutual expression of scandalized terror.  They could not return to their comportment, stunned by the reactions. T'par had lost her head. Sarek was frightened more then the sehlat biting her.
Sarek gasped “T’par! No. You are-” He said “You have made a laugh.”  Sarek  covered his own mouth.  He had heard an truism that laughter is contagious. He certainly must not catch such a thing in his mouth.
“Sarek you are having a worse reaction.  You look like I was murdered. The sehlat only licked me.  Your foolish facial expression that is what truly undid my composure.” She pointed at him.  "This was unspeakably ill mannered." She tried to catch her breath. "To slap the sehlat!"
“Well I had a reason to think he might bite and eat you.  Then you had no reason to laugh like a nursling!” Sarek wagged his finger at her.
“Sarek-kam It is a known fact by all sehlat tamers, that sehlat do not eat the people that they kill. At least until the corpse is soft and rotten. Their teeth are not amenable to eating man flesh.”
“But you laughed.  Laughter is frivolous.” Sarek corrected her.
“I was not laughing.  I was expelling air from my lungs.” T‘par said “And you should not look so scared.  Like my parents will whip me and never feed me for a moment of weakness and a ripped dress. You are ridiculous.”
Sarek let her go. She was unharmed.“Well I did not laugh. So I can‘t be as ridiculous at you.”
The sehlat let out a chortling sniff.
The two of them stunned let out a strange laugh. Such a strange feeling.  They stopped as quickly as it started.
They both remained quiet for a few moments as the Sehlat stopped eating and went back to sleep.
“No one has to know.” T’par said “I have never done such things that I would be ashamed to share them with my mother.  She will put me to sick bed for a week, if she found out I was laughing.”
“My father will have me never leave home for an indefinite time, blaming me for the incident.”
“I will not tell my mother or anyone.  Let’s pretend… it never happened.” T’par said.
“I promise that you will never have to hide again T’par. You should not have to lie. I will tell father about the demerits after night meal. But I will not tell him about the Laugh.” Sarek said “Your integrity and restraint are admirable qualities that I should not sully.  I will never implicate you in such things again. And take the responsibility myself in ethical conduct.”
“I wish you would not do such things again.” T’par said “You are a risk taker Sarek. And it is not in my nature to risk more then is safe, for the sake of any price. For the ethical standards are mean us to live peacefully and not be at risk and danger at all.”
“But sometimes circumstances beyond our control, cause unpredictable things to happen.  There are benefits in some calculated risks.” Sarek said
“This night will be guarded by our bonds. What we share with one another, Mother-T'pol and Marriage-Father Skonn will not know. It is hidden by the mating bond.” T’par said.
Sarek nodded.
The night was coming fast and he wanted to see her home. “T’par might I make a personal admission of my misdeed.”
“Yes.” T’par nodded. She thought everything he did was a misdeed, but this time she did not nag she did not look at him.
“When I thought the sehlat had bit you, I had a… reaction. Thinking about if you were gone from my life. It was a pain.” Sarek finally looked up from his boots at her.
“It is natural to die by any number of both illnesses and injury, Sarek.” T’par said “Will it be so bad if I was not in the world?”
“I know. This is logical, T’par-ashaya.” Sarek said  “If you can prefer and like sehlat.  Then I have a preference for you. Maybe it is your morphology or comforting logic,  but I do. I like you.” He said.  His face a mass of green, his hands hot, his whole body confused with such a big real feeling.
“More Logical than not, as we are going to be mates.” T’par sat close to him. He noticed her long hair, full of curly twists. The light color of  her eyes.  A smudge of mud on her ear tip.
Sarek sighed deeply in relief.  “I thought I had acquired a mental illness.” he looked her in the eye “I did not want another to be my bond mate. I would be alone.  I never wish you to die or go on a long vacation or be separate from myself. It is possible that the worst case scenario should happen…” He stood up “And you will move to another city.  Truly it will have profound effect on my state of mind.  I do not know if I could live without this.”
T‘par looked like she might cry as she stood too. “Sarek. It is logical that our attachment be so strong.” T’par touched his hand “Even a Princess of the blood shall struggle with Equanimity and the Fear of Loss, until I am dead and have nothing to lose.  The things and people who we are attached, which keep us on the ground like gravity.  I am so inexpert in such things. There is little equanimity when I think of thee. Whether fire or water, or not. ” She said “I have failed thee too.” She said.
She looked out at the purples in the sky “I love thee.”
“But since we are together now.  Then maybe we won’t get in trouble for attachment.  Maybe it will encourage us in some capacity.”  He said. “make us do something that no others have done. Maybe there is a fortunate destiny awaiting us."
“Then why are we scared.  If we have this.” She said.
He remembered the words of the betrothed “Parted from me but never Parted. Never and always…touching.”  They actually did mean something to him now.
T’par’s face softened.   
Sarek was a boy.  Sarek had not generally seen this thing called a smile.  He had never seen a woman so happy she cried tears or a woman who stood so still when her heart broke.  He had not met a Klingon or swam with a Legaran’s home thermal vent. He had never seen rage break apart a Vulcan mind, he had never seen his son collapse when his husband pretended to die.  He did not see the strange quirk of an eyebrow.
Sarek was still a boy. As a man he spent his life time analyzing facial expressions as a matter of survival.  He never, in all his future, did come to understand what T‘par‘s facial expression meant.  Was it sorrow or indulgence or joy?   
He felt everything in a ball that hit him like the sehlat’s tongue. Of possession and joy and fear and greed, nothing separate from Sarek’s mind.  Their mental affinity was rare for Vulcans.
    As the feeling rocked him T‘par held his cheek “No. Vulcans do not benefit from problems such as ours.  Maybe if we were suicidal Romulans or Qomi who live but a hundred years. Encouragement aggravates emotions by its definition.  It is Emotion. Vulcans do not have a word for it.”
    “It is wonderful this mistake that our affinity afford us.” Sarek held her hand. “We are fortunate to have it now before we are old or dead.”
    “But how dangerous.” T’par let it go, the smile returning to her complete control.
    He took his fingers and crossed her fingers.  He knew of kissing. He knew that the older boys would stroke fingers with their intended and other girls and it felt pleasurable.  But It was not like T’par which was superlative and beyond definition.  He held it in a small still heart and a ordered soul and would let none see it, almost too petty to hold.   
    Sarek walked beside her. He would never feel so complete as he could with Haduni T’par by his side. The feeling could never ever return. to this complete state of unity. What to him is something like that thing humans make into a joke…innocence. So insignificant a moment to be lost to oblivion.
    “Will you see me home?” T’par said. “It is dangerous times and we should not be traveling by ourselves.
    Sarek nodded. Maybe father did not need to learn about his demerits that night.
    When Sarek falls in love, it is not the same thing as being loved.  He has neither strength of character or precision of interpersonal manipulation to avoid it.  It gives way under his feet to a place where his idealized self is stripped bare.  The things that others see in him, mean so little and are quickly stripped away.  Love is very many things at once.