Title: The Waking Man

Author: Wildcat

Series: TOS/TNG

Rating: T

Codes: Spock, McCoy, Sarek, Saavik

Summary: At a time when he's juggling his ambassadorial duties with his father's failing health, Spock meets someone new.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Spock. I have just borrowed him for a while and will not profit from any of this.

This story is part of my S/U Trekiverse. It follows The Softest Star.

Thanks to my good friend Jungle Kitty for beta reading.

This story was awarded first place for "Spock Pairing" in the 2006 ASC Awards.

Feedback is desired.

Hope is the pillar that holds up the world.

Hope is the dream of a waking man.

- Pliny the Elder

The Waking Man, Chapter One

"Excuse me, Ambassador."

Saving his latest revision to the treaty, Spock looked up to see that his aide was standing in the door to his temporary office in the Delar Consulate. She was dwarfed by the high stone arch that characterized the architecture of this culture, and she radiated barely—contained energy, weaving her fingers together before separating them, and then weaving them together once more. She apparently noticed what she was doing at the same instant he did, for she unclasped her hands and put them firmly behind her back. He did not allow his amusement to show. She was young, and she would learn. Indeed, although he had never displayed his enthusiasm in such an overt manner, he remembered a day when assignments like this had energized him, too.

It seemed so long ago.

He could not help but cast back in his memory to a time when all was new to him, a time when each day brought a new challenge, and the morrow was greeted with anticipation rather than the foregone conclusion that it would simply be more of the same.

"Spock," he said. "You may call me Spock, T'Miren, when we are not with the other dignitaries."

"Yes, of course. Spock."

He waited for a long moment, then prompted, "Did you have something to tell me?"

She nodded hastily. "Yes. I wished to inform you that I have had no success in contacting your father."

"Did you try both of his offices? It was my understanding that he was on Earth now, but perhaps he has returned to Vulcan."

"No one answered my hail at either location. I did speak with the receptionist at the embassy on Vulcan, but according to her, his itinerary shows that he is on Earth, and no one answers at his office in San Francisco."

"I am not surprised. Now that my father is semi-retired, he does not keep a full staff on Earth." His attention already back on the treaty, he said, "Perhaps you can reach his aide, Sakketh. He will have the information we need."

"Very well."

He heard her footsteps recede down the long hallway, and he shook his head indulgently. T'Miren was the daughter of an old colleague from the Vulcan Science Academy. He had known her since she was an infant, but one would not think so by witnessing her formality now. He had hired her as his aide not merely as a favor to her father, who was concerned about his offspring's lack of direction, but because he had always been impressed by her intelligence and her eagerness to please. She was so eager to please, however, that he was growing tired merely by watching her. She had not relaxed since this assignment began.

Taking a heavy breath, he forced himself back to the task at hand. When had it come to this? He had written so many of these agreements that it was difficult not to do it by rote. He squared his shoulders and reminded himself that there were subtle details about this situation that made it unique. It might not particularly challenge his intellect, but that did not make it any less important.

He changed the wording of a phrase, reread the paragraph, and changed it back. Until he was sure of his facts, he would have to be vague about the terms of the previous agreement—a verbal agreement that he trusted only his father or Sakketh to remember—between the Delarians and the Kzet. If T'Miren was not able to contact either of them soon, he would have to take the task into his own hands and attempt to reach Sarek himself. It was ironic that he and Sarek could function so smoothly as colleagues, but never as father and son. Of course, if Perrin had her way they would not even share their professional relationship, but fortunately her influence on Sarek did not extend that far.

He heard the clatter of footsteps that gradually grew louder, and he realized that T'Miren was walking even more quickly than before. He sighed and clasped his hands on the desktop while he waited for her return.

"Ambassador!" she called from the hallway.

Something in her voice jolted him out of his ennui. This was not merely the zeal of an inexperienced youth.

"Ambassador Spock." She stopped in the doorway. "I was able to reach Sakketh's wife, and she told me that Sakketh is at the hospital with your father. Sarek became ill yesterday morning."

Spock was already out of his chair and moving toward the door. "What is wrong with him?"

She fell into step beside him. "She said that he became disoriented and confused. He did not know where he was, or why. When Sakketh attempted to assist him, he..." She swallowed hastily. "He, ah, he became belligerent and argumentative. He struck Sakketh on the jaw."

Spock's step slowed, and he knew that both alarm and disbelief showed on his face. "Sarek?"

"Yes."

They turned the corner, and he saw the makeshift communications room just ahead. "It sounds like he might have had a stroke."

"That is what the doctors thought, too, but they have not been able to find any indications of one. They are running more tests. He is lucid at the moment, although he has experienced two more 'interludes,' as the doctor called them. I hope you do not mind, but I took it upon myself to call the hospital for a status report."

He stopped in the doorway and faced her. "I do not mind, T'Miren. I am impressed by—and most grateful for—your initiative. Thank you."

"I am pleased to have been of service, Ambassador." She handed him a scrap of paper. "Here is his room number. He is at Starfleet Medical Center in San Francisco. Am I correct in assuming that Ambassador Tevek will take your place in the talks?"

"I have not made that decision yet, but yes, I do think it likely that he will need to do so."

"In that case, I shall prepare a brief for him. Tell Ambassador Sarek and the Lady Perrin that they will be in my thoughts."

"I shall."

She nodded and walked away. As he crossed the room and sat down at a comm terminal, he allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at having accurately seen the promise of a capable assistant in a rather flighty young girl. The next moment, however, the image of what might be happening in San Francisco crowded all lighter thoughts out of his mind, and he addressed the communications console.

"Computer. Contact Starfleet Medical Center, San Francisco, Earth."

He had to make a conscious effort not to weave his fingers together, just as T'Miren had done earlier, while he waited for the computer to respond.

...

Spock ran his credit chit through the scanner, grabbed his travel bag, and exited the taxi. Starfleet Medical Center was imposing in front of him, and as he walked, he looked up at the general area where his father's room would be. He did not know what he would find. He had spoken with a Dr. Pruit three times during the eighteen hours he was en route, but the doctor had found nothing new.

He probably should have asked to speak with Perrin, too, but he had convinced himself that doing so would only add to her burden. The fact that it suited him to avoid her was secondary. He also had not told Saavik that he was on his way to Earth. Her granddaughter was due to give birth any day, and he did not want her to feel obligated to leave South Carolina. He would call her when he had some news, and let her know he was here.

Someone he had contacted when his shuttle was on final approach toward Earth was—

"Spock! Spock, dang it, slow down."

He looked over to see Dr. McCoy shuffling down the sidewalk that intersected his. McCoy moved well for a human of such advanced age, but Spock could not resist meeting him halfway to grasp his elbow.

"Greetings, Doctor. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Hmph. It's the least I could do. I don't know about all these young doctors they've got in Starfleet these days. Wet behind the ears kids who wouldn't know a stethoscope from a saxophone. We'll get a real doctor in there and we'll see what's what."

They started walking again, and Spock was careful to measure his steps as the doctor crept along. He noticed that McCoy did not ask him to release his elbow; the last time they were together, he had affected offense at Spock's attempt to help, but this time he did not object. Spock began to doubt the wisdom of asking McCoy to make such a hurried trip from Macon, and he slowed his step even further.

McCoy yanked his elbow from Spock's grasp. "Dammit, I didn't come all this way just to take a nature hike. Let's get moving."

"I do not want you to overtax yourself, Doctor. One patient is enough."

McCoy stopped and peered up at him, and Spock noticed that he was measurably shorter than when they were last together.

His cantankerous manner vanishing, McCoy patted Spock on the arm. "Spock, I appreciate your concern, but really, I'm fine. It does me good to feel needed. Consulting in Atlanta just doesn't do much to fill my time, and I'm very happy to be here. Now, let's see if we can find out what's going on with your father."

Nodding his gratitude, he took McCoy's arm again. He changed the subject as they resumed walking.

"Did you know that Jacob and Cecilia are expecting a child?"

"No, I sure didn't! When's it due?"

"Two days ago."

He laughed. "Boy, oh boy. I'll bet Saavik's about fit to be tied."

"She is understandably excited."

"How many will that be for her, anyway? Great grandkids, I mean."

"Four."

"Well, from one great-great-granddad to another, you can never have too many of them."

They fell quiet as they entered the building and stepped into the lift. Soon, they were walking down the hall toward Sarek's room. Spock could hear the quiet, efficient tone of Sakketh's voice interspersed with another more urgent voice, a voice that could only be Sarek's, although if Spock had not known to be listening for it, he would not have recognized it. It was far too agitated. There were two other voices, which must be the doctors, and he wondered how many other people had witnessed his father's distress.

He stepped through the door with McCoy right behind him, and Sarek immediately looked up and said, "Spock."

Spock froze. Was that a tear glistening in his father's eye? He looked helplessly at Sakketh, who did not meet his gaze, and then he looked at the two doctors, both human, who did not cease their muted discussion. He forced himself to take a step forward.

"Hello, Father. I heard that you were unwell."

"Spock, I do not know what is happening to me," Sarek said tremulously. "I do things I should not do, and I say things I should not say. It is not right, I know it is not right, but I cannot stop myself, I cannot."

Spock moved a chair closer to the bedside and sat. He had expected to find that his father was not aware that his behavior was out of the ordinary. Perhaps this was a good sign. Perhaps he was not so ill, after all. He actually seemed quite lucid.

Ignoring McCoy, who was examining the diagnostic display at the top of the bed, Sarek looked beyond Spock at the empty doorway as if he were expecting someone else.

Spock glanced over his shoulder. Before he could speak, Sarek asked, "Where is Nyota? I had thought that she would come here with you."

Spock knew that his mouth was open, and that McCoy had turned toward him in disbelief, but all he could do was blink. Finally, he swallowed and said, "Father, Nyota died nineteen years ago. She has been gone a very long time."

"Ah yes, of course. Amanda died, too." Sarek looked again like he might cry. "They died. They all die. I do not understand why they must always die."

"Everyone dies eventually. Mother and Nyota both lived long, full lives. Their deaths were peaceful." He paused to study Sarek, whose eyes were growing heavy. "We should all hope to meet such a peaceful end."

Sarek did not hear him, for he had fallen asleep. Spock sat back heavily in his chair and looked at the doctors. He recognized the gray-haired Dr. Pruit from his earlier calls, but he did not know the woman.

"These episodes exhaust him. When he awakens, he'll be rational again." Dr. Pruit motioned to the woman beside him. "This is my colleague, Dr. Angelluci. She's an exobiologist with a specialty in disorders of the nervous system."

"Greetings. I am Spock, but of course, you have already discerned that. This is Dr. McCoy, an old friend. He was gracious enough to agree to meet me here."

Dr. Pruit smiled at McCoy. "Dr. McCoy and I go way back. Good to see you again, Len."

"Good to see you, too, Freddie. Spock, Fred here is one of the best geriatricians around. I don't believe I've met you, though, Dr. Angelluci."

Dr. Angelluci extended her hand to McCoy. "Please, call me Rose. It's an honor to meet you, sir. Both of you, actually. Ambassador Spock, I'm glad you were able to get here so quickly. With patients like this, it's always good to have a family member nearby. It seems to calm them."

"I wish we had some news for you," added Dr. Pruit, "but we're still waiting for the test results I told you about earlier."

Spock hardly heard what Dr. Pruit had just said. Instead, he was focused on Dr. Angelluci's last words. "I am the only family member here? Where is Perrin? Has anyone contacted her?"

Sakketh, who had been standing quietly in the corner, said, "To answer your questions, yes, you are the only family member here. She is on Vulcan. I contacted her."

Spock waited for Sakketh to elaborate, but finally prompted, "And?"

"She is busy." Although Sakketh's face remained expressionless, his disapproval was very clear. "She is on the planning committee for the Embassy Ball, and she cannot come to Earth at the moment."

Spock pressed his lips together and stood. "Perhaps she does not understand the gravity of the situation. I will attempt to explain it to her."

As he walked out the door, he heard McCoy mutter something before striking up a discussion of Sarek's symptoms with the other doctors. The first few words had been too quiet for Spock to understand, but he had little doubt that McCoy had said something derogatory about Perrin. It was good that Spock had left so quickly, because he would have been hard pressed not to express his agreement with McCoy's opinion of his father's wife.

...

Perrin had just picked up the seating chart when her computer chimed. Perhaps this was Gretchen with the estimates from the caterer. Truly, it was a monumental task to plan a meal for a group with such varied dietary restrictions, especially since her co-chair was proving completely ineffectual at keeping up with all of the details. She hoped that everyone appreciated just how much of the work she'd had to do all by herself.

"Computer, accept call."

Spock's dour face appeared on the screen, and she deliberately hesitated a moment before saying, "Why, Spock. What a surprise. How are you?"

"I am well, Perrin. And you?"

"Quite well." She knew that he didn't care if she was well or not, and that this wasn't a social call, but she didn't allow his bad manners to cause her to lose her composure. "I see that this call is originating from Earth, and I assume that you are with Sarek. How is he?"

"He is quite ill. The doctors do not have a diagnosis yet. You should be here with him."

"The Embassy Ball is just next week. This is the biggest event of the year for the non-Vulcan ambassadors and their wives. Everyone who is anyone will be there, and I can't leave now."

"Your husband's health is important, too. Indeed, it is infinitely more important than a mere social event."

She shook her head. Spock was such a social clod. "You're wrong. This is important, and your father would agree. I'm needed here."

"No, you are needed here."

Finally losing her patience, she said, "Why? Will I be able to do what the doctors haven't? Will my being there make him better? Of course not. That's ludicrous. However, here, I can preserve his career. Sakketh told me about his behavior, and if that gets out, he'll be through. Do you understand? Finished. He'll be finished! The only people who can know about this are a few doctors and close family members, and my job is to act like nothing has changed, to talk to the right people, and to be conspicuous with my presence. When this is over, maybe I will be able to leave, but until then, my place is here."

Spock's expression hardened even more, if possible. "Some things are more important than a career."

"You are one to talk about this! You gave up everything for Nyota, and when she was finally gone, what were you left with? Just a lot of memories. You certainly didn't have a career. You didn't even have a life!"

"That did not matter to me, and it should not matter to you. My father will always have a place with the diplomatic corps, regardless of what you think. He was happy when I arrived today, Perrin, openly happy. If I am the one who must see him through this, so be it. You will regret it one day. Spock out."

She drew in a large, angry breath before lashing out at the blank screen. "Damn you, Spock! You will not get the last word here."

She closed her eyes until her heart rate slowed, and then stood. The seating chart must be done today, and if Gretchen didn't call soon with those prices, she was going to have to take care of that herself, too.

End chapter one