"I had believed you were not joining me for first meal, Saavik." Sarek placed his PADD on the table as Saavik seated herself on the stool beside him at the dining table the next morning. Though it was considered rude in many cultures (including Vulcan) to focus on the PADD at the meal table, he had found efficiency in getting ahead in his day by perusing mail and news when he found himself alone for a meal, a habit he had picked up on Earth.
Saavik had a bowl of broth before her, but appeared disinterested in it. "Lady Amanda is not joining us?"
"She is joining a group of her Academy students to participate in a cultural activity. She expects to return in a few hours."
Saavik nodded once to acknowledge. After swallowing a spoonful of broth, she folded her hands in her lap and stared out at Amanda's garden. Sarek knew that Saavik would occasionally slip into a contemplative, melancholy mood; he estimated these episodes were occurring 2.3 times more often than her initial two weeks on the estate. But her immediate mannerisms did not precisely fit her usual pattern in those situations. He detected a tremor in her frame, her skin seemed translucent, and the dark circles under her eyes that had been permanent these past weeks appeared more prominent. Most concerning was a slight sheen of sweat glistening on her face even though the environmental controls were set to Vulcan parameters.
He decided to inquire into her condition. It would be considered intrusive by most Vulcans, but he knew Saavik would be accustomed to it, as he was, because of an extended presence in the company of humans. "Saavik, are you well?"
"I am well," she answered quickly, as if by habit. He could hear her heartbeat accelerating and considered probing further, but her next actions negated any hesitation. She stood quickly, tight lipped and shaking.
"You are not well!" He stood and caught her as she stumbled, and he could feel her skin burning up as she gripped his arms for stability. "Are you in pain? Can you describe your condition?" Her eyes were squeezed tightly, and her breathing was fast and shallow.
"I-" she cut off to turn away from him and vomit. It was an alarming shade of emerald green. "Sarek!" she sobbed, though she was still in control enough to keep her tears from falling. He pulled her more securely into his arms as she shuddered and collapsed.
"Computer, emergency medical transport!" he barked. He pushed down an insistent fear as the mother of his son's child dropped her head to his chest. He didn't notice the transporter beam had taken them until healer's assistants pulled her from his grip to lay her onto an antigrav medbed.
Swallowing the bitter flood of adrenaline in his mouth, he listed out relevant information about her identity and condition to the healers, taking comfort in reciting facts. He hesitated slightly before reaching the end of his monologue. "You must refer to her file before administering treatment as her pregnancy is atypical."
The healer who was reading through her chart did not bother to look up from it. "It would be illogical to do otherwise, Sarek. Healers Sorel and Corrigan have been summoned. If there is no further information you can provide, you may wait in the family room. You will find signs directing you. Or shall we call you by comms to update you on her condition?"
"I will remain on the premise."
In the waiting room, he took a short moment to compose himself before contacting Amanda. Even among Vulcans, situations involving pregnancy could be confusing and fraught with emotional upheaval, and he needed Amanda to take charge in this situation. He was not equipped to handle what he suspected was to come.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Amanda kept on hand on Saavik's bed, close enough so the young woman could feel the heat of another body, but still refraining from touching her without her consent. Saavik had been in a much-needed healing sleep for two hours, and Amanda hadn't left her side since she had stabilized.
Amanda would soon be forced to step away for a few moments to address the call of nature, but she couldn't forget the memory of Saavik grabbing her wrist tightly and pleading, "Please, Lady Amanda, do not abandon me!" Saavik's skin had been pale almost to the point of translucence, her bloodless lips white. The strength of her grip on Amanda's arm had slackened as she had started to convulse. Amanda had moved into the corner of the room to make space for the healers, but she had not left the room since that moment hours ago.
She was feeling everything at once. Certainly grief and disappointment. But she was surprised to find how angry she felt. It was all so unfair. Saavik never seemed to catch a break. Starting life starving, beaten, and perhaps worse on an unwanted planet in hostile territory. Enduring a string of foster families, none of whom were able to handle her and promptly passed her on to the next family. Struggling through the academy as one of only a handful of Vulcans, and definitely the only half Romulan.
Amanda knew there was a brief schism between Saavik and Spock in the girl's first year at the academy, but she had been barred from learning more because of the classified nature of the surrounding situation. All she knew was that it was connected to that lab contamination accident that had caused death on a massive scale at headquarters. Then to lose Spock, and gain him back only to lose David at the same time. And the Spock she did get back had yet to recall memories of her. So she endured this unintended pregnancy without him, and experienced the loss without him as well.
When Amanda had learned that Spock had taken a male mate during his first Time after the koon-ut-kal-if-fee, she'd figured grandchildren would be very unlikely in her lifetime, so Saavik's pregnancy was an unexpected gift. And she was angry for letting herself get so attached to the idea. She'd gotten so wrapped up in the fantasy of having a baby around, Spock's baby, that she'd never really braced herself for this very likely outcome. Even though they'd never figured out how they should handle disclosure, they would have figured it out as they went along. Amanda had so looked forward to raising another baby, and nostalgia had let her gloss over how extremely difficult it had been the first time around.
But that future was gone. Spock's mate was likely to outlive her, and if Spock took a wife after that, Amanda would never meet the resulting children.
A soft swish of fabric caused Amanda to look up at the door and focus on the present. "Husband," she acknowledged. Sarek's face was the same neutral stoniness that he wore when someone he cared about was injured or ill. Amanda held up two fingers to him, and he joined his own to hers.
"May I inquire into our ward's condition?" The waves of sorrow he had sensed from his wife let him draw some conclusions about the events, but he felt relief at seeing some color to Saavik's face. Still, she seemed so small in the medbed, and his memory dredged up images of Amanda's ravaged state following Spock's birth.
"She's out of the woods, and she shouldn't suffer any long-term effects. But… the baby didn't make it."
Sarek closed his eyes for a moment and bowed his head. "We grieve as one." He pulled Amanda into his arms, and she allowed herself a moment to lay her head against his chest for comfort.
"She fought hard. I know she'd never quite decided whether she wished to carry to term, but I don't doubt that ultimately she wanted to."
Sarek squeezed Amanda and released her. "Though the social aspects of the situation would have been difficult to navigate, Vulcan would have welcomed the child. Our family would have welcomed the child." Amanda sniffed as she worked to hold back tears. She had already cried for Saavik, for Spock, for what could have been, but she wanted to be brave now for Saavik. "Beloved, please take a few moments for yourself. I will stay with her in case she awakens, and you are in need of refreshment."
Amanda bit her lip. It wasn't that she didn't trust Sarek to handle the situation with grace if Saavik woke up. But… okay, maybe she didn't entirely trust his abilities on this issue. She knew from her own pregnancy and from watching him in countless social situations throughout their marriage that Sarek struggled with interacting with pregnant women. She guessed it had something to do with the hormones. Vulcan didn't stigmatize their women as overly emotional or irrational the way humans did, but pregnancy could cause instability in a Vulcan woman's control in the second and third quarters. Or perhaps Amanda had unintentionally traumatized him with her extreme mood swings during her own pregnancy.
But grief he could handle, she knew. One didn't reach Sarek's age without watching friends experience loss and grief. And as he was a much travelled man, having met more beings than most people could in three lifetimes, he had experienced more than his own share of grief. As a family, they had mourned the loss of three children through exile, death, and time travel. And now they would grieve another, one they never got the chance to meet.
"I assure you, I will not upset her if she wakes while you are gone, Amanda."
Amanda smiled, eyes shining. "I know. Stay with her, I'll return as quickly as possible."
In his wife's brief absence, Sarek moved closer to Saavik's bed. Her sweat-soaked curls framed her face in disarray. When she had come to them, she had still had some youthful roundness to her countenance remaining, but now she appeared gaunt. She must have gone to great measures to conceal her rapid weight loss.
He was surprised to find that he felt no measure of relief that their potential difficulties had solved themselves before they arose. Eventually Saavik would perhaps decide to reveal the conception to Spock, but now it would remain hypothetical, a "what might have been."
But it was only his sadness and disappointment fighting to be acknowledged. Amanda had been vocal about her desire for grandchildren; at some indeterminate point along the way, Sarek had too come to look forward to it. During meditation, an idea had coalesced that this child would be the chance he desired to avoid the grave errors in his parenting of Spock, Sybok, and his daughter. Perhaps this time, he could have conducted himself correctly.
But dwelling was illogical. Now they would put their energy towards overcoming grief and moving forward. They would support and guide Saavik through sorrow and trauma until she was fit enough to return to Starfleet.