Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.
...
His fingers flew nimbly across the switches and buttons, working the console as if he had been doing it his whole life. Beeps, clicks, and buzzers, sounding off at irregular intervals kept him on his toes, and the busy atmosphere spared no room for boredom. Everything on the bridge was functioning normally...
...and then the klaxons went off.
The blared loud in his ears, and he covered them. What had happened? He looked around. Nobody else seemed to be reacting to the noise. Red lights flashed, and everything went dark. So dark that he couldn't see his hand when he held it out in front of him. The noise rang on, though, but became almost... shrill... like someone screaming-
- Sorin's eyes snapped open, and the screaming continued. It was definitely shrill, and gurgly, too. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It looked like she was awake again. He shifted, rolling to his other side pulling the blanket up from where it had gathered around his waist.
Amanda had arrived at their quarters two weeks, three days, and approximately four hours ago. Every night, she had never failed to keep Sorin from the blissful realms of sleep with her incessant screaming. He closed his eyes, and tried to rest, but his familial bond with Amanda enabled him to feel her agitation. "Grrrr." That had not made him feel better in the least. It was strange how Mama expressed her frustration in that manner.
Sorin gave up on trying to fall back into his dream, and padded across the floor to his closet, where he donned a dark blue cotton robe. He exited his bedroom, and crept quietly toward his parents' room when the screaming quieted. The door was open, so he had a good vantage point of the crib placed on the wall opposite the bed, and he peered in.
Mama was standing in her lavender silk nightgown, cradling Amanda, who was swaddled in light pink blankets. Sorin could imagine that the texture was very soft, like the downy feathers of an infant penguin. He sighed, watching Mama gently sway back and forth with Amanda's small fist clenched around her forefinger. Mama paid extra attention to her, speaking unintelligable nonsense and making funny faces. Amanda gurgled and laughed, and finally began to drift off to sleep.
As Sorin looked down, his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned. He had not spent any time in the company of Mama or Baba without Amanda in one of their arms. During that time, it seemed like all of their attention was focused on her. His frown deepened. What was this feeling? It felt almost like anger, but different somehow. He looked back up to see Mama kissing Amanda's forehead and placed the sleeping baby girl carefully back in her crib. He remembered when Mama would tuck him in with a story every night...
He leaned against the wall adjacent to the door and slid down until his crossed arms were settled on top of his knees and underneath his chin. Baba hadn't helped him upgrade his tricorder in over a month; at least three updates had become available since then. Mama hadn't felt like baking cakes for longer than that; he couldn't lick the spoon when she had finished mixing the dry and wet ingredients together. He searched his eidetic memory- when was the last time the three of them had done something that had to do with him, Sorin? It was always about the baby. The little one. And three weeks ago, it started being addressed as Amanda.
He felt a wet substance leaking onto the knee of his pajama pants. He looked down, and was startled to realize that tears were falling down his face. He scowled and viciously rubbed them away. They didn't stop, though, and kept on falling until he gave up on trying to keep them from doing so. Hiccups forced their way up his chest and out of his mouth, and he tried to be as quiet as possible.
...
Sorin's efforts were failing, because a moment later, Nyota walked toward the open doorway and was shocked- not to see Sorin, but the tears rolling down his mocha-colored cheeks, and the quiet hiccups racking his small seven-year-old self. Nyota could count on one hand the number of times that Sorin had cried since he had reached the age of one. She got down on her knees and pulled him into an embrace. It really worried her that he leaned in fully and returned it whole-heartedly, not letting go even after a few seconds. Not that she was complaining.
"What's got you so upset, mtoto?" He buried his wet face into her neck.
"Her." Nyota immediately understood which 'her' he was talking about; there were only two females in close vicinity, and the fact that Sorin was responding positively to her invading his personal space told Nyota that it certainly was not herself.
"Why is Amanda making you upset?"
Her eldest child pulled away and roughly wiped his face, turning away to hide his fatial expressions. "You and Baba do not see me anymore. You see only her."
Nyota felt tears gather in her eyes and pulled Sorin back into the embrace. "Oh, mtoto, I'm so sorry..." She whispered, and then held him out at half-arms length, still gently gripping his shoulders. "Babies are high-maintenance, Sorin, and I know that's no excuse for us not paying any attention to you, but that's what's been happening," She smiled sadly and looked into a face so like that of Spock's, but with her eyes. "You should know though, Sorin, that you'll always be our baby boy- I promise to pay more attention to you, and your Baba will agree with me."
Sorin's lip quivered, but his tears seemed to have dried. Nyota wiped the remaining wetness from his sticky cheeks. "Thank you, Mama." A soft whine floated to them from inside of the room, and the boy scowled. Nyota frowned, but then smiled a small smile.
"Would you like to hold Amanda, mtoto?"
He looked up, and Nyota saw surprise flash across his face before being hidden under a blank mask. "I suppose so." They both stood and she took his hand, leading him over to the side of the crib. They looked in, and saw Amanda awake once again, with her face pink and her fists flailing- at least they had caught her before the screaming started.
Nyota picked her up. "Hold your arms like mine," He mimicked her position and posture. "And remember to support her head." He nodded, and the look of wonder on his face when the small baby was placed in his arms made Nyota chuckle.
...
He was right about the blankets; they were definitely soft. Amanda, however, drew his attention away from that.
She was not heavy, not at all. Her chocolate eyes, almost identical to Baba's, were wide open, and no longer filled with discomfort, but rather curiosity. Tiny droplets of tears clung to her delicate, but thick, eyelashes, and her slightly slanted eyebrows reminded him of his own. Her small, pink lips opened and she gurgled happily at him, and he felt a smile grow on his face. It made sense, now, why his parents always focused in her- she was fascinating. He copied the movement he saw Mama doing, gently swaying back and forth, and her little eyelids slowly drifted shut over those beautiful chocolate orbs, somewhat more feminine than Baba's, and he felt illogically sad to see them go.
"Give her to me, mtoto." He did, and Mama place her back in the crib. He peeked over the side, and decided that it was far more interesting to observe her breathing patterns when she was asleep rather than when she screaming. Mama looked down at him, and he looked away. "So?" She prompted, almost as if asking his opinion on his younger sister.
He shrugged and smothered his smile, feeling the need to hide how he felt. "She is not as horrible as I made her out to be." And with that, he turned, and left the room, heading back to his own to catch up on some much needed sleep.