Melancholy

U.S.S. Discovery, 2282.2, 1008 hours. He hadn't gotten much sleep but there wasn't much he could do about that—not until he had some answers. With that in mind Se'tak quietly rolled out of bed and slipped his shoes on so he wouldn't wake Mama and Selas then headed for the front door. There were two lieutenants sitting at the kitchen table holding hands and looking gloomily into their coffee mugs; he recognized them from the Enterprise but couldn't think of their names at the moment. A sad glance was shared amongst the three of them before he headed out the door.

Sickbay was his first stop. Sa-mekh had survived surgery but he needed to know if he'd survived the night. The room was full to bursting with patients and while none seemed exactly critical to him all hands were busy tending to the ill and wounded. Se'tak made his way to the back of the room carefully peering in at each bed until he found one with a partially closed curtain erected around it in the far corner that contained his sa-mekh. A chair had been pulled up alongside the bed—he suspected either Uncle Leonard, Uncle Jim or Uncle Hikaru had visited in his absence.

Se'tak took a seat and looked his sa-mekh over closely. To the untrained eye he appeared to be asleep, but he knew better. Sa-mekh was unnaturally still and his breathing was shallow; add to that the bandages running up his arm, around his neck (and he suspected down his leg) and it was obvious that he'd been gravely injured. He tried to tap into the familial bond but that too was quiet—another side effect of a healing trance.

He reached out and gingerly took hold of his bandaged hand. "Hey, Sa-mekh, it's me. We're safe now so, uh, you gotta hurry up and wake up, ok? 'Cause Mama's really worried and you know how she can get. So just, yeah, work on that," he finished, overcome with nervous anxiety. It wasn't really the most eloquent speech but then what else could he say? Now that they were on the Discovery and he was no longer on red alert all the time the brevity of their situation had truly taken hold and he was just really really scared.

The curtain pulled back abruptly and a white haired doctor walked in; looking up from his PADD the man let out a little 'oh' of surprise upon seeing him. The physician glanced from him to his sa-mekh and back again. "I know you must be anxious, son, but you really shouldn't be back here. We're trying to keep everything as sterile as possible until the skin heals."

He understood. Se'tak gave the man a little nod then left the room without another word. He dreaded what he had to do next but it couldn't be helped-he had to know.

He could've gotten the information he wanted from any of the ship's computers but he didn't want an impersonal piece of machinery to tell him the news so he headed to the Mess. Other Enterprise survivors were sure to be there—it was the gathering place on most every starship whether people were hungry or not—and Se'tak knew he'd get a full casualty report from them.

When he walked in most people looked his way. He saw a lot of subdued, blotchy faces, and many were too stunned to speak. A few nodded hello as he scanned for a table to join but none jumped out at him; then a Trellian Discovery officer stepped aside and he recognized Aaron's form hunched over in the far right corner. He walked over and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder startling him. "TAK!" Aaron jumped up and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, setting a small PADD aside on the table. He pulled him into a one-armed hug. "I heard…but I wasn't sure…"

"I got out ok," Se'tak assured his friend. "It was a little iffy for a bit but I made it."

Aaron gestured to his own black and blue eye. "Yeah, I feel ya." He sat back down and gripped the PADD tightly in his hands as he lowered his eyes. "And your family?"

Se'tak nodded. "Sa-mekh almost—" he trailed off, unable to bear finishing the thought, but Aaron got the gist. "But he's in Sickbay now and it looks like he'll make it. Mama and Selas are a just a bit bruised like the rest of us. You?"

"A bit beat up but good too." He clenched and unclenched the PADD in his fist as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "You and me, we're the lucky ones."

Se'tak grimaced. "Who else…?"

"See for yourself," Aaron said as he thrust the PADD at him.

A sense of foreboding washed over him as he took the device in his good hand. It seemed Aaron had also been reviewing the list and was midway through; using his finger Se'tak scrolled upward and it felt never ending. "How many?"

"63." His eyes went wide and he saw the tears start to well up in Aaron's though he tried to stem the tide. He began to scan the list.

Roger Cox. Sorry to say he didn't know him at all. He might've worked in Security?

Hank McKeon. He was a good guy and a damn good navigator.

Paolo Acosta. Paolo was T's friend from Engineering. He was pretty cool. He could just imagine how upset she'd be when she heard the news.

Joyce Palmer. Mrs. Palmer? That name hit him like a slap across the face. But she…she was so nice! And she was about to retire…

Kristen Henlish. Mrs. Henlish? Se'tak looked to Aaron. "Louisa…?"

"She's in Sickbay," he replied. "Concussion from what I hear. Her dad and sister made it out."

Se'tak nodded and swallowed hard. He didn't want to keep going but he felt compelled too—and something in Aaron's expression told him the worst was yet to come.

Laura McGinty. She was Uncle Scotty's 2nd—he remembered she liked to go to the rec rooms and sing; sometimes she and Mama did duets.

Evan Gantz. Another one he was sorry to say he didn't know well—that didn't mean he didn't grieve for him and his family.

Duronan th'Neferan. T-Tilk's Dad? He…h-he…he didn't… Se'tak's heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. This just couldn't be…he looked to Aaron for confirmation and his friend simply nodded, too overcome to trust his own voice and speak. It could just as easily have been him in Tilk's shoes…

The names kept coming, and as each one was read it felt like a physical blow. He was so distraught by what he was reading he almost missed it but then—it had to be a mistake, some kind of sick, horrible mistake.

Henrik Klassen.

Maren Klassen.

Egil…

Se'tak jumped up from the table in horror. "NO!" but Aaron's glimmering eyes told him the truth. He started banging the PADD against the table, breaking it apart until his friend caught his wrist. They were both sobbing hard. "IT'S NOT TRUE!"

"But it is," Aaron sadly assured him. "Egil's gone, 'Tak. He didn't make it."

He flew into a rage. "IT'S! NOT! TRUE!" Se'tak could hardly see as he flung the ruined PADD against the far wall. He'd been talking to Egil just before the evac order came down. Egil couldn't be dead, he just couldn't…

"It's alright, S'etak." He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around only to come face-to-face with Lieutenant Deng. "We all lost some good people." The man was bruised and burned but somehow still standing.

If he could make it out then why hadn't Egil survived?

"No it's not!" he shouted. In a surprising display of force Se'tak flung the Lieutenant back and stumbled out of the Mess clinging to the walls like a drunkard. He couldn't help himself as the tears ran hot and heavy down his cheeks and he struggled for breath. One of his best friends was just…he was just…

…gone.

"See ya!" That was the last thing they'd said to each other before going their separate ways. Why hadn't he said something more, something better, something important? It all happened so fast, it's true, but before that—he'd never told Egil what a good guy he was or how much it meant to him to be his friend.

Somewhere along the way he stopped and slumped to floor. "He's dead. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead," he wailed.

A strong hand gripped his arm and Se'tak looked up through the haze to see the white haired doctor from earlier holding onto him. "It's alright, son," the doctor said soothingly as he kindly depressed the hypo into his neck. "It'll be alright."

Se'tak's world began to dim. "No it's not," he replied before losing consciousness.

He was curled up on the couch and heard Mama's voice in the background. "Are you sure? It could be a clerical error, the list could be…"

"We're sure, Ma'am," Lieutenant Deng replied. "I'm very sorry."

"So am I." Her voice grew closer and he felt her stroke back his hair. "The Klassens were wonderful people, and Se'tak and Egil…"

Deng's voice dropped a little. "I know."

"He should be coming out of it soon," the doctor interjected. "It was a very light sedative; after what the Lieutenant told me happened in the Mess we just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt himself or anybody else while we tried to get him down here."

"I understand." Mama crouched down beside him and placed a hand on his cheek. Her overwhelming concern and sympathy for him increased his grief ten-fold. "It's ok, Baby, I'm right here. Mama's here," she murmured.

"If there's anything else you need, Commander, just page me."

"Will do, Dr. Williams. And thank you both." He heard the pneumatics hiss behind them as they left the room. Mama continued to sit with him and stroke his hair and Se'tak allowed himself to enjoy a few minutes of private comfort while he processed the news some more.

It still struck him dumb when he thought about it—Egil and his parents were dead.

"Mama?" Selas' voice sounded small and far away. He wondered where his brother had been when he'd been brought in.

"Come here, Sweetie." She held open her other arm and beckoned him forth. "Se'tak just got some upsetting news; he lost his friend Egil on the Enterprise and he's very sad. Isn't that right, Se'tak?"

So she knew he was awake. He looked up at her with bleary eyes; having her sadness reflected back made him choke down a sob so that all he could do was nod. Selas came over and laid a hand on the crown of his head. "S'ti th'laktra*, Se'tak," he said very solemnly. Se'tak simply nodded again while Mama draped a blanket over him.

The exhaustion that had eluded him all night stole over him as he battled to internalize his grief. Grabbing the corner of the ragged blue sheet he pulled it up tight under his chin and rolled over to face the back of the sofa.

"Come on, Sweetie," Mama said, standing and ushering Selas away. "Let's give your brother a bit of space now, hm?"

"Ok."

His time aboard the Discovery passed without rhyme or reason. He didn't go out much, didn't eat much—it was like he was living in some kind of trance. He recalled talking to T'Alora a couple of times—well, she and Mama talked, he mostly just stared into the middle distance—but that was about it. A few days after his meltdown Mama made him take Selas to the Mess; if she thought it'd do him some good than she was mistaken because when he returned he was more depressed than before.

"She was a great ship, that's for sure," a man at a nearby table remarked to his friends.

"The best," his companion replied, "She was the best."

"I was practically raised on her," the other one added.

Something inside him snapped. No you weren't! he thought. I was!

He felt stupid and selfish for thinking he had some kind of greater claim to the Enterprise simply because he'd been born on her but that didn't change how he felt deep down. After overhearing that remark Se'tak lost his appetite and instead pushed his food around his plate so his brother would think he was eating. They left not long after.

There was also a ship's counselor that kept popping by their quarters unannounced 'to visit'. After the sixth call Se'tak told Geoff he didn't feel like talking (not in those exact words though—and when Mama found out later what language he'd used was she ever pissed!) but it got the guy to finally leave him alone.

The truth was, Se'tak didn't want to talk to just anybody about what was going on inside his head; he wanted to talk to Mama but he knew better than to bother her. She was so preoccupied—between watching over Sa-mekh, meeting with the other senior officers, making sure the junior officers and their families had everything they needed, and seeing that he and Selas were clothed and fed and alive, she simply didn't have the time or energy. Plus, he knew she was just as broken up over their losses as he was; he'd caught her crying into her pillow more than once late at night when she thought he and Selas were asleep.

So he chose to keep himself to himself, with one exception. Late, late at night, when the bulk of the ship was asleep and there was no one around to bother him, he'd slip down to Sickbay and sit with Sa-mekh.

U.S.S. Discovery, 2282.13, 0237 hours. Dr. Williams watched the boy in the chair as unobtrusively as he could. Se'tak sat there with a PADD balanced on his lap but he stared at the screen without seeing. Eli hadn't been acquainted with him very long but that didn't mitigate his concern; he'd even made mention of it to Dr. Hadassah but she said that he'd been offered grief counseling same as everyone else and refused. Short of forcing him to go there wasn't much else they could do…

…and while his hands were metaphorically tied Eli hoped that when Commander Spock woke up he'd be able to do more for his son.

Se'tak waited and watched out of the corner of his eye until the doctor moved along. Dr. Williams mostly left him alone, and that made the man alright in his book, but sometimes he'd catch him staring and it…well it unnerved him, to say the least. Once he was gone though Se'tak set the PADD aside and talked with his sa-mekh some more.

"I mean, it's not like I'm trying to be difficult," at that he shot Sa-mekh a look, half-expecting a typical, droll reply. "I just don't want to talk to the guy. He acts like we're best buds, calling me 'Tak and telling me to call him Geoff. He says he knows all about what I'm going through but he really doesn't. He's never lost a ship—never lost a home. I know because I hacked his file. Yes, I know, it was wrong, but it proved my point! He's from Nebraska for crying out loud and nothing EVER happens there! The most traumatic thing he's probably ever had to deal with was putting his pet dog down or something; so yeah, I told him to f**k off." Some of the bravado left him as he quietly repeated the expletive. "Don't worry, Mama chewed me out good for that one too."

Se'tak sighed and shifted his gaze from his sa-mekh to the wall behind the simple nightstand. "He's been good to Selas though, so I do feel a little bad," he shot Sa-mekh a warning look, "But only a little. What can I say? He was being pushy. Anyhow, Geoff got Selas a real paper sketchpad and pencils; he told him drawing was therapeutic or something. Whatever it is Selas has been sketching like mad ever since he got it. He let me look at some of his stuff but it's all geometric shapes and weird shading techniques. He says it's abstract but I think it just looks like scribbles…but whatever makes him feel better I guess; you know?"

He shifted position and peered at Sa-mekh's face. There wasn't much of a discernible change but he did look more relaxed, and that was good. The doctors thought he'd be out of the healing trance any time now; Se'tak hoped it'd happen soon. "Mama…well, Mama's ok, but she wishes I wasn't being such a brat. Like I said I'm not doing it intentionally and I am trying to be better. And she's super-stressed what with worrying about you and trying to make sure everyone else is ok and then you add me and my attitude to all of it and ugh.

"Sa-mekh, I'm trying to be a man but it's...it's hard."

Several minutes elapsed in contemplative silence as he tried to put his feelings into words. "The truth is…the truth is I feel so guilty all the time and then I get really mad. Like I'll be sitting in our room looking out the viewport and I'll start to think about the ship and it makes me feel sad; but then I think about all the people who got hurt worse than we did or who didn't make it out at all and I start to feel bad about being sad when they're dead; and the worst part of all is there's not a damn thing I can do to change any of it! It makes me so angry I just…I just want to scream, or hit something or…"

Se'tak let the thought trail off as he started thinking about Egil again, replaying their last few minutes together in his head. He got choked up and wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his sleeve. He still hadn't told Sa-mekh about Egil and he didn't know if he'd ever be ready to talk about his lost friend. "I don't know," he said, "Maybe you don't understand, maybe you do. Heck, you probably can't even hear me. But sometimes I feel so alone…"

He looked upon Sa-mekh's face again and discovered that there was rapid movement behind his eyelids. "Sa-mekh?" His chair scraped against the floor as he rushed to stand and peer over him. "Sa-mekh?" Se'tak gulped hard; if his sa-mekh was trying to wake up then he needed to…

With a sharp intake of breath he raised his right hand high and brought it down hard, striking the side of his face with a resounding crack. Sa-mekh's head flew to the side but he still didn't wake. Trembling, Se'tak raised his hand again, hoping he was doing the right thing.

CRACK! The sound of skin-on-skin made Eli's head shoot up from his work as he leaned against the nurse's station. Eyes quickly scanning the Sickbay he soon discovered the source; the curtain fluttered in the breeze from movement in the back corner and the formerly occupied chair was empty and tilting against the wall.

Se'tak.

He was there in a flash, in time to see the son deliver another hit to his father's face. The Commander's head flopped back to the side from the force of the blow and he gripped the end of the bed hard to stay his own hand. It went against every instinct he had as a physician not to stop the boy but Vulcan physiology dictated this be done. Se'tak was shaking as he turned back to look at him; a nod of reassurance and he raised his hand for a third blow.

But the hit never came. Commander Spock's arm shot up, catching his son by the wrist when his hand was just millimeters away from making contact. "You may desist," he croaked before weakly dropping his arm back down.

The boy was stunned into silence, looking from his father then back at him in complete shock. Eli gently nudged him out of the way, pulling his tricorder out as he approached the bed. "It's good to see you awake, Commander. I'm Dr. Williams, and you and your family are safe aboard the Discovery. Can you tell me how you're feeling?" He checked the device in his hand; the Commander's vitals were strong.

"I am well; however, I require water," he hoarsely replied.

"Of course." Eli ducked out of the way to see to the needs of his patient and retrieve a glass.

Spock turned his head to the side to get a better look at his son. Se'tak was much altered since they last clapped eyes on each other; then again, given their current circumstances, such a metamorphosis was not altogether unexpected. Though his limbs were stiff (particularly his right arm—he vaguely recalled a fireball barreling down the corridor toward him) he held his arm out to his son, beckoning him over. "Sa-fu."

Hesitantly, Se'tak stepped forward and even more slowly slipped one hand inside his. He showed his son everything he was too weak to say; that he had heard every word, that he too mourned for the loss of their home as well as their colleagues and friends, and that their's was a grief that would linger long after the event itself. Spock harkened back to Nyota's words to him in the days following the Destruction and imparted them to Se'tak now. "You are never alone, Se'tak. Never."

The Doctor chose that moment to return with a large glass of water in his hands. Se'tak said nothing in return and instead chose to duck out of the room to alert the rest of the family. It did not escape Spock's notice that his son's eyes were quite moist.

Starfleet Headquarters Memorial Gardens, San Francisco, 2282.21, 1518 hours. It'd been a vicious cycle of debriefings, memorials, and funeral services ever since they landed and Kirk was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. This last service was particularly heart wrenching as he'd had to eulogize an entire family.

The gardens had always been his refuge in times like these. Built for privacy and reflection they were rarely visited and it was one of a handful of places where he felt he could truly let his guard down; he wasn't a hero or a captain—he was just Jim.

Once he was deep within the garden's confines he yanked hard on his collar and choked down a sob. He could see clearly in his mind's eye the altar from the church he'd just left; Henrik, Maren and Egil had all been killed in action, yet their brightly smiling faces stared back at him from the dais throughout the service. That image alone would haunt him all the rest of his days.

I should've done more! he privately railed, beating his hands against his temples. They shouldn't…he rounded the corner, mid-condemnation, and came upon his nephew sitting hunched over on the stone bench. Se'tak was bawling so hard he was shaking and his muffled, primal cries hit Jim deep in the gut.

He vacillated over whether or not to approach his nephew. Se'tak would not have come here if he'd wanted company—Jim understood that all too well—but he just looked so wretched…

It suddenly dawned on him that Se'tak had been crying so hard he was beginning to hyperventilate. Jim walked over and pulled him up to his feet in a big bear hug.

"I…I…"

"Don't fight it, 'Tak," he murmured. "Just relax."

They stood there like that for who knows how long until his breathing started to level out. The pair of them sat back down, completely and utterly spent. The sun shone down upon them and somewhere in the distance a few birds began to sing.

"It'll get easier, I promise."

Se'tak turned his large, sorrowful, brown eyes on him. "I don't think it will."

"It will," he replied, gently but firmly. "You'll see. Day by day the sadness will ease—and then one day you'll be able to think about Egil without crying at all. Heck, you might even laugh when you think of all the great times you had together."

Instead of finding comfort in his little speech his nephew looked to be on the verge of tears again. "Uncle Jim, I can't even say his name without turning into a wreck!"

Jim wrapped his arm around his shoulder and held Se'tak tight against him. "I know, Buddy, I know. But trust me; everyday it's going to hurt a little bit less." Though he offered these words of comfort to his nephew, in the back of his mind Jim knew he had to heed them too.

A/N: Hey all, so I recently updated "Forging Her Own Path" since it's timeline coincided with this story—that won't always be the case but I thought you'd like to know. I only have 1 or 2 more chapters saved up before I revert back to T'Alora's story so I would suggest putting both in your alerts if you wish to stay updated. Thanks so much for following along with my work and if you have any questions feel free to PM me. Lastly, I really appreciate any and all reviews!

* "S'ti th'laktra" = Vulkhansu, "I grieve with thee."