ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.295

Losha had no intention of discussing the possibility of treating his telepathic damage with Naalem and when he had time to reflect on it, he realized he should have simply told him that. He was fairly certain Naalem would raise the subject again and he would be forced into an another uncomfortable situation. He had already had to disclose some of his uneasiness over the idea of staying on Vulcan to both Malar and Sarek, and it had been embarrassing. He hadn't felt this uncomfortable since he was a child. It was like being back on Ivor Prime, the stares of the other children burning into him after they had discovered his blood was green. He could feel their stares then - is that what was in store for him if his telepathic senses were restored? Were the Seenans he lived and worked among actually staring behind his back and he just couldn't sense it?

Before the accident, he had been a fairly confident person. But that had all changed. He didn't like who he had become. Perhaps this was who he had been all along, and he'd just done a good job pretending he was someone else. Perhaps the drugs had made him who he was and if his telepathy were restored, he'd go back to being who he really was - someone who was uncomfortable in his own skin. But that wasn't true either - he'd managed to achieve a degree of confidence long before sur. He'd managed to forge friendships, however briefly, with children of all different races. He clearly recalled a conversation between Kadren's grandfather, Orat, and his own father in which Orat had called him "the little diplomat." Sybok had only smiled then and patted him on the shoulder. He had never mentioned that his father was an actual diplomat. He had never said anything about his family at all, and that made Losha's current situation very strange.

After he'd returned from testing at the medical center, he'd spent most of the rest of that day on the couch in Sarek and Amanda's living room, listening to Malar, Naalem, and Amanda. Sarek had had work to do and had returned into the city center after bringing Losha and Naalem back to the house. Amanda was eager to tell her guests about the most interesting things to visit in the area, which she hoped to show them once Losha had recovered from surgery. Sarek returned in the evening and after dinner, when the temperature had dropped, Amanda offered to take them on a walk around the neighborhood. Losha told Malar and Naalem to go ahead without him.

Malar tried to insist that he go along for exercise, but he couldn't be persuaded. There was no point in going on a walk when he couldn't see anything and following behind someone was frustrating and tiring. Malar was right, he needed exercise - the more sedentary he was, the less energy he had. But knowing he needed exercise didn't change the fact that he didn't feel like he had the energy to do anything. The surgery was in two days and he'd have plenty of time to walk after that.

The following day, the day before the surgery, Amanda suggested going to the Museum of Vulcan History. Since many guests were off-worlders, the museum offered earpieces that translated the artifact and display descriptions into dozens of languages; Amanda thought that this might be something Losha could enjoy. He saw no point in listening to recordings of Vulcan history - he could do that from the house - but he didn't want to spoil what he knew would be a fun time for Naalem, perhaps also for Malar.

Amanda seemed to sense his dilemma and offered a suggestion. Sarek was working at home that day and could assist Losha if necessary. He was hesitant to be dependant upon Sarek for any length of time, no matter how short, but the only thing he'd really need his assistance with was preparing lunch, and that seemed preferable to the museum. So he sat on the couch and attempted to listen to an audiobook, then news, then music. It was no use - with the surgery coming up the following day, he couldn't concentrate on anything.

A couple of hours later, he was making his way back from the bathroom, counting the steps until he reached the couch, when his foot struck something hard. He had misjudged the location of the table in front of one of the two couches in the room. He cried out for a moment and reached down to his aching foot, but then lost his balance and his back hit the arm of the couch, which was quite hard, at least when hit at that angle. Another cry escaped him, but he quickly stifled it. It was all he could do to keep himself from hurling an expletive. He rubbed his sore back with one hand and his foot with the other for a moment before attempting to stand up. Suddenly, arms grasped him from behind and pulled him into a standing position. He had become quite good at hearing others' approach, but had missed the footsteps, no doubt because he'd been focused on the pain in his toe and back.

"Are you injured?"

"No, I'll be fine. Just stubbed my toe and hit my back." Losha paused before turning around to face Sarek, who released his arms from around him. "Thank you."

"I am about to prepare our midday meal. It will only take a few moments in the replicator. Will you join me in the dining room?"

"Yes." Losha waited for the sounds of Sarek's footsteps on the floor - that would allow him to follow him reasonably easily - but he only heard him turning around.

"Place your hand on my back and you can follow behind me. That will ensure that you don't misstep and fall again."

Losha did as he was asked and Sarek led him to the dining room. The meal was silent, as had been all of the meals since they'd arrive on Vulcan. It was a noticeable change from mealtimes on the Deep Space Four and the Tycho, though he'd avoided leaving his room as much as possible during those times. The lunch was made even more awkward by the fact that Malar, Naalem, and Amanda weren't present. Even if they didn't speak, it was somehow more comfortable with them present. With no one else for him to focus his attention on, Losha also wondered if Sarek was staring at him as he held down some of the food with his hand in order to position the fork into it.

Lunch today was a vegetable plate seasoned with a spice he recognized as redspice. It was a seasoning his mother had used when she could find it. Losha wanted to tell Sarek this, that he remembered redspice from his childhood, but he was afraid to break the silence. It came as a relief when lunch was finally over.

Sarek went back to working and Losha went back to the couch, again attempting to concentrate on a book, music, anything. He had been sitting most of the day and he began to feel restless - perhaps he should have forced himself to go to the museum after all. Since it was too late for that, he decided to go sit in the enclosed patio and garden area off of the living room that he had walked around in with Malar and Naalem when Amanda had given them a tour the day before.

The garden wasn't particularly large and he had no trouble finding one of its two stone benches. There was a certain smell of plants - he could see them and discover which scents came from where. Since there was nothing he could look at, he focused on the sounds: a slight breeze blowing sand across the stone of the patio, the shriek of some no-doubt predatory bird high above, an occasional buzz of an insect. The late afternoon sun had heated the stone bench up considerably, but it was pleasant. It was definitely much hotter here than in Hakar, but with the lack of humidity it was not uncomfortable.

Losha found himself having trouble staying awake. He was trying to debate whether he should continue to fight sleep or return to his room to take a nap, when he heard the double doors that led into the living room open. Were Naalem, Malar, and Amanda back already? He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there. But only a single set of footsteps approached - Sarek's.

"Your father often sat in this garden, on these very benches." Losha felt like he was being woken from a dream.

"He lived here then?"

"Yes, he lived with us here for over two Standard years."

"After his mother died?" Amanda had said as much to him on the station.

"Yes."

"So he lived with his mother before that?" That much was obvious to Losha, but he didn't know of a better way of asking what he wanted to know.

"Yes."

"So his mother was your first wife then?" He heard Sarek draw in a breath. He was probably being rude, but it was his family and now that he was here, sitting in the same garden in the same house his father had once lived in, he felt an insistent curiosity.

Sarek sat down next to him. Losha was beginning to wonder whether he was going to speak when he asked, "Are you aware that Vulcan marriages are traditionally arranged in childhood?"

"Yes. My parents were opposed to that. That's one of the reasons they chose to leave Vulcan."

"Not all parents choose this tradition, but it is still quite common. T'Rea and I were bonded in childhood. However, we chose not to marry. Consequently, I did not meet your father until after T'Rea's death."

"When he was a teenager?" Sarek had mentioned that when he had first disclosed their relationship to one another back on Senes.

"Seventeen point one Standard years."

"So why didn't you meet him before that? You didn't know he existed?" Like you didn't know I existed, he thought.

"I was aware of his existence. However, it was T'Rea's wish to raise Sybok alone."

And Sarek just let her? What kind of man agreed to stay out of his own child's life? It was now clearer to Losha why his father had never mentioned Sarek. He had also never mentioned T'Rea, but that was likely because he was didn't want to be reminded of her death. He understood that well enough. And he now felt more awkward than ever in Sarek's presence. It seemed that Sarek really hadn't wanted to be a part of his father's life, and he likely didn't want a grandson he hadn't known about either.

He said nothing and Sarek also remained silent for several moments. Finally, he spoke again.

"Doctor Dvir informed me that she arranged for you to speak with a telepathic specialist at the medical center yesterday. May I ask if you have come to a decision regarding treatment and therapy? She would like to inform her colleague who would be performing the treatment."

Losha had thought he would make a decision after the neurosurgery, but realized it would be rude to keep people waiting, especially Vulcans. Doctor Dvir had been very considerate toward him.

Knowing what he knew now about Sarek, the choice seemed clear.

"Yes. I would prefer not to have the treatment." The words came out before he had time to consider them.