Spock wasn't amazed at how he had ended up tied to the bed with restraints strong enough to withstand a Vulcan's strength, he had mused while the sedatives slowly worked their way out of his bloodstream, leaving him drained and sore, especially his wrists and throat. A window was right next to the bed, and Spock could see the sky, dark, with the constellations of stars shining brightly in contrast to the dim lighting of the white-walled room.

There were few mental facilities on Vulcan, as they were rarely needed with exceptions to the elderly, who may have lost their ability to control emotion through age and became senile. He was the only Vulcan under fifty at the small facility he was in, as he had heard faintly from one of the nurses in his bleary phase right after waking up. Considering he was fifteen, he certainly felt the minority.

Spock groaned softly. He hazily remembered what he had done to get in the facility in the first place.

The pain, the flashes of green and his strangled cry as he fell to the floor, unable to breathe....he lay on the floor, trying desperately to breathe against the will of his mind, even though it pained him to do so...pools of emerald blood surrounded him as his life was slowly slipping away, something he had wished to do for a long time...eventually, blackness surrounded him, and he remembered nothing more....when he woke up,bright light surrounded him, and a sudden rage built in him as he ripped out the IV drip from his arm and hit and kicked many of the nurses trying to keep him on the bed...he heard the nurse shout for a sedative, and he just struggled even more, yelling as loud as his throat would let him, the pain a welcome sweetness until he heard the hiss of a hypospray and he felt his world slow and darken as he was once again thrown into the dark, unfeeling abyss....

The groan was enough to get Amanda's attention from where she was sitting a few feet away from the bed, since it was deathly quiet in the room. She had reluctantly been allowed to be in the room by the nurses, who insisted Spock was dangerous and was warned not to be in the same room with him, which she replied with a few expletives and tears of desperation. The nurses knew she was human, and took pity on her in the way Vulcans did, and allowed her to stay.

She had found Spock lying on the floor of his bedroom, pale, unresponsive, surrounded by blood, and a long, serrated knife lying in his open hand, and she had called paramedics just before it was too late. The sight had horrified her, and she frantically called for Sarek to call the closest medical facility. He had done so in the cold, calculating way Vulcans were, and said little. He had politely declined to come with Amanda, saying she was the one who was needed at the time and not himself. He had been on the receiving end of the outburst, and Sarek knew that seeing his son in his...state would be distasteful.

With tears in her eyes, Amanda pulled her chair over to the bed, placed her hand in Spock's, and whispered to the boy,

"Oh, Spock....you're alive...."

Amanda knew that Spock was going to make it, since twenty-third technology was inherently better than centuries before, but she was still moved to actually see her son alive after what she had seen.

Spock tried to turn his head or nod, but the pain was too much. Instead, he weakly tried squeezing her hand to let her know he was there. He attempted speech at a very low whisper.

"M-Mother..."

"Spock, don't talk, it's okay. It'll all be okay...I just want you to be happy." Amanda cooed.

"Happiness....is an....emotion...I.....do not....feel it." the boy rasped.

Fresh tears wet Amanda's cheeks at his bleak statement that was quite the conundrum coming from a Vulcan-human hybrid child. On the Vulcan hand, it could simply mean that he had the emotional control to not be happy, but Amanda knew that to be false. The other hand, the human one, was much more marauding. It was that Spock simply didn't feel happy, and no mother would want to hear such things in a situation like the one she was in.

"Spock....why? Why did you try to....why did you do it?" Amanda whispered thickly through the tears.

"I....do not fit....in either of....my....heritages, and their...surroundings....I...am a....a....bastard....as a colleague....at school called me...It is only logical....that I take my own life....to spare Father the shame...I bestow upon him...." Spock whispered.

Amanda started bawling at this point, squeezing Spock's hand, trying to convey her love for him all in that one gesture.

"Oh, baby....d-don't think l-like that....y-you're special....you're m-my little boy...I d-don't know what I would do if you had....oh, God...." she stuttered, falling into a fit of sobs.

Spock simply tried to block out the pained crying of his mother, as he couldn't cover his ears, for the sound was more painful than any of his injuries.

"I...am sorry...for causing you pain, Mother. I....will attempt to act in a better manner....in the future." he whispered softly.

Through the corners of his eyes, Spock saw the tear-streaked, saddened face of his mother, and felt a twinge in his heart.

"Just don't leave me, Spock. I couldn't live knowing you were gone." Amanda whispered, and Spock felt a tear roll down his cheek.

"I....will not, Mother." he replied, squeezing her hand, letting her know he would never do anything like that again.