disclaimer: if i owned star trek, spock wouldn't have been bullied as a kid :'(

Expressionism, Part I

Amanda Grayson smiled to herself as she painted. Though she had no regrets about leaving her planet to be with her husband, and now, to raise her son, she couldn't deny the inexplicable joy that color elicited in her. It would seem that Vulcan itself deemed various hues illogical. Home alone, she cloistered herself in the room Sarek had constructed as her studio and turned up the music as she introduced pigments to paper.

Amanda carefully mixed scarlet with saffron and applied wide brushstrokes to her abstract piece. Her work was interrupted by a muffled noise from another part of the house. "Computer, mute," she instructed. Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was too early for her husband to be home from his ambassadorial duties. She put down her brush to investigate.

Wiping small flecks of paint off of her hands on a small towel, she made her way to the main part of the dwelling. Amanda heard more activity: the clatter of belongings being strewn about, stomping feet, and frustrated snarls, a result, she soon saw, of a small half-Vulcan. His pointed eyebrows were scrunched, his lips twisted and quivering. He whirled, balled fists flailing through the air, to kick at his schoolbag.

"Spock?" The boy immediately stiffened his spine, ceasing his temper tantrum and attempting to regain control of his breathing and, more importantly, his emotions. Amanda found herself shocked, illogically so, she chided herself, as she often did when her son exhibited behavior that was more on par with his human roots.

"I was unaware that you were home, mother." Amanda noticed that, though his voice was completely controlled, Spock's shoulders slouched, his head bowed, ever so slightly. "I apologize for my emotional outburst."

"Spock," Amanda stepped swiftly toward her son. "Sweetheart, don't apologize." She sank to her knees and turned him to face her, her heart aching as she noticed his damp cheeks, still round with youth, but nearly frozen in a blank expression, much too serious for his age. For a human his age, at least. "What's wrong?"

"Mother, there are multiple possible responses to your query." Amanda gazed up into her son's face and lightly squeezed his shoulders, hoping to prompt more information. "I suppose the most prominent factor in my emotional distress at the moment is the distress itself."

"How so?" The boy's eyes snapped to meet her own, very briefly, then quickly looked away. She suspected she already knew. Children could be ruthless, especially coldly calculating Vulcan children, who, according to an unusually sympathetic staff member at the learning center, considered Spock their personal experiment in the effect of genetics on reaction to emotional stress.

He shifted nearly imperceptibly while considering his answer. "I have always had more difficulty than my classmates with controlling my emotions. I am unable to deduce whether this is to do with my human heritage and the resulting difficulties I may have in my meditations, or," he paused slightly and gave the Vulcan equivalent of a shaky sigh before continuing. "Or, if it is prompted by my peers' attempts at provoking emotional distress in me, for reasons I can name, but fail to completely understand."

As he spoke, Spock's voice had become increasingly strained, and he had blinked away tears at least once, but they threatened to return. "Oh, Spock," Amanda finally spoke, softly, to avoid betraying her heartbreak.

At this, the young half-human once again raised his eyes to look at his mother. "I-I meant nothing inherently negative by mentioning my human roots, Mother." He said this quickly, almost panicked. "It was certainly not my intent—" Spock cut himself off when he realized she was smiling, albeit sadly.

"I didn't think that's what you meant," Amanda assured, searching her son's face.

"But you are sad," Spock pointed out.

"I'm sad because I don't think it's fair that the other children pick on you. Especially—" Amanda stopped herself from saying because it's a result of my genes. She took pride in never apologizing for her humanity, but seeing her son hurt as a direct result of it made it extremely difficult to ignore. "Especially because of something you had no control over." She pursed her lips slightly and studied the fabric of her son's school clothes, trying to think of something she could say to comfort him. What on Earth, on Vulcan, for that matter, could she say?

"Being human is not bad, just different, and diversity in background is essential to the progression of knowledge. Your father has reminded me of this on multiple occasions, but perhaps he has not told you enough." Amanda paused, running her fingertips over a wrinkle in Spock's sleeve before directing her attention directly to the boy's eyes. "I hope you know that there is no need to hide your feelings. This is your home, and your father and I love you very much. Nothing can change that." She carefully wrapped her son tightly in her arms. Though he only reciprocated lightly, and with one arm, his small body lost a bit of its tension.

Finally, Amanda reluctantly broke her embrace and stood up. "I've tried to adopt the teachings of Surak, but some of my meditation techniques are... unorthodox. Would you like to join me?" Her smile widened at the curious eyebrow raise her invitation prompted.

Minutes later, she had clothed her son in a smock similar to her own. She found it amusing that her son had the ability to dismantle and reassemble any sort of technology imaginable while all but deducing every detail of its function, yet he forlornly gazed at the blank piece of paper in front of him, looking lost as he considered the array of hues and shades that filled the room. Amanda had turned on the music again, but had chosen softer, more calming pieces to accompany their art.

"It's not exactly meditation," Amanda finally said, reloading her paint brush. "I suppose it would be considered a positive outlet for emotion." Spock regarded her warily, then turned his attention back to the supplies in front of him. "Just draw what comes to mind. Whatever you feel like."

She knew that asking her son to tap into his emotions as a creative force was difficult and possibly even uncomfortable for him. However, considering his growing emotional stress—frustration, anger, sorrow, confusion—due to the provocation of his classmates, she surmised that Spock needed something—something productive. Fights and tantrums did not fall into that category, though Amanda would admit to falling victim, albeit seldomly, to those sorts of emotional outbursts in her own youth. Spock's practice of self-defense coupled with meditation was helping to be sure, but Amanda hoped that by channeling emotion rather than suppressing it, her son might have some peace of mind.

Amanda stole a glance at her son, the small boy deep in thought, before diving back into her project. Behind her, Spock picked up a pencil and began to sketch.

"I believe I am finished, Mother," Amanda heard her son announce. He surveyed his work, a sparkle running through his eyes.

She smiled. "May I see?" Spock nodded as she moved to stand behind him.

She blinked, then smiled. "It's beautiful," she murmured, kissing his head.

On the paper in front of Spock, a perfect diagram of elegant schematics had been etched. Long, delicate lines of circuitry and graceful, sculpted forms of paneling held an astonishing level of innate beauty. Amanda almost immediately recognized it as a control panel beside the door.

"This exercise was…" Spock tilted his head slightly as he searched for the right word, a trait Amanda recognized as Sarek's. "Relaxing. Thank you." He rose and faced her. "I should review today's lessons before Father returns for our evening meal."

"I hope you join me again, Spock." Amanda smiled, trying to convey reassurance and love to the young half-Vulcan, half-human, she reminded herself, who carefully nodded and left the room.

a/n- many thanks to my ever-fantastic beta, carynna. if all goes well, i hope to write more chapters, so feedback would be most appreciated. thank you so much for reading! xoxo-xan