AN: Yay! Update! It hasn't even been a week, too. I'm getting better at this. I plan to update every Wednesday - or sooner if I finish editing fast enough - for now on. I can't promise it'll work for long just badger me if Wednesday passes and I haven't posted.
Anyways, thanks to all who reviewed/followed/favorited! I hope you enjoy this chapter and constructive criticism is welcome as always. And a quick note: italics indicate flashbacks from during/the very beginning of Spock's depression. And tell me if I handled the flashback well or not I want feedback on how I wrote the characters as well as the year 2000.
Spock tapped his fingers nervously against his knees, watching the large houses and expensive cars pass by from the passenger's window of the car.
"You don't need to be anxious."
He turned his head to Stonn and sighed. It was a mistake to bring him home but they were only a few minutes away. Too late to turn back.
"You are aware my father won't accept you?" Spock said.
"Of course."
Spock looked back out the window. He thought that Sarek would have been at least a little bit accepting. Stonn's parents were from Nagasaki, he was very smart, majoring in political science, and shared many opinions with Sarek. Except on homosexuality. And that was the most important one tonight.
Sarek believed that marriage should be between a male and female so a proper household could be made. The woman would provide the most nurturing and the father would provide discipline and a more logical perspective. It was the genders natural instinct and could not work if there were two men or women. This confused Spock as a child for his father married a very opinionated woman who was not only nurturing but spoke her mind constantly. His mother did not give in to the common stereotypes of a house wife that had been pressed upon their generation. As Spock grew, so did his vocabulary and he realized why Sarek was like that. He was a hypocrite.
Spock was 23 and had started his fifth and final year of college in San Fransisco - only a few hours away from where his parents lived. His father had expressed his distaste for him going to school in America despite the fact that they had lived there since Spock was a young child and how eager the University was to accept him with a large scholarship. What he had noticed years ago, was that his father had expressed his distaste for almost everything Spock did on his own. It was hard having your own desires and goals when your father wished to mold you like clay.
"Will it really be such a loss?" Stonn asked after a minute of silence.
"You do not understand," Spock shook his head.
"I do -"
"You don't," Spock snapped.
Stonn clenched his jaw, trying to prevent the start of an argument. It was really the last thing they both needed. Spock was a nervous wreck and Stonn could only be so supportive of his stubborn boyfriend. If Spock wanted help, he would have to allow it instead of pushing away any ounce of understanding someone tried to provide.
"I apologize," Spock said quietly. "I'm being irrational tonight."
"You are," Stonn agreed. "I wonder why I put up with you."
Spock would have smiled at the attempt of a joke if it had not been said in the middle of his parents' driveway.
Amanda had greeted Spock with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Stonn was introduced to her as a "friend" with a handshake and welcoming smile. Spock was relieved to see her take an immediate liking to him and his manners. However, when his father walked out of his office when he heard the voices coming from the foyer, his hands went back behind his back in the nervous habit he had. Throughout the beginning of dinner, he was victim to Sarek's silence and occasional glance.
"Do you have any plans as to what you will do after you finish school?" Sarek asked Stonn after a long, calm conversation about new bills being passed, upcoming elections, and basically anything they could talk about that involved politics.
"Law interests me. I hope to work my way up to a high position but for now, I have a chance to intern for an attorney. If she's impressed by my schoolwork, I may start as soon as next month."
Spock couldn't help but smile through his fork. Perhaps Sarek would be so impressed, he would notice the flaws in his bigotry.
"However," Stonn added. "Spock is starting his internship at the local medical research center on Monday. They're far more impressed with him than any law firm would be with me."
Spock had stopped chewing and was nearly glaring. He had specifically told Stonn right before they left to talk about his own schooling and career since Sarek had no interest in his.
"Really?" Amanda smiled. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did not think it was important," Spock said.
"Of course it is! It's wonderful."
"You worked hard for it," Stonn added.
What are you going to be doing?" Amanda asked.
"Mainly not touch anything," Spock joked. "They have already stressed that I will observe before attempting anything on my own under strict supervision."
"How will you gain experience if you merely watch?" Sarek commented.
"It is five days a week for a full year. There will be plenty of time."
"Are you still going to apply after your internship?" Stonn asked.
Spock was mildly annoyed by the questions. "I will wait to see if the center suits me. If it doesn't, there are many others in the city."
"Are you staying in San Fransisco? I thought you said you were thinking of moving," Amanda said.
Spock looked to Stonn, who nodded slightly with a smile as if he could read Spock's mind. Clearing his throat, Spock figured if he didn't speak now, he would surely never get a better chance.
"I've made plans to stay here... we've made plans to stay here," Spock said slowly, bringing forth the wording he had so carefully chosen. "There is something you must know of Stonn and I. We have been dating for a while now and are living together next year. After some compromise, we agreed to live in San Fransisco."
The silence that followed made Spock's stomach sink and his heart race. Sarek had been in the middle of taking a sip of water but slowly set the glass down on the table, bringing his hands together in his lap like he did whenever needing to confront his son.
"Sarek -" Amanda started in a warning tone but he cut her off with a sharp glance.
"Father, I am gay and I will not refrain from any relationship because of what you think," Spock said boldly. "I know your opinions but they will not sway my actions."
"I did not expect so," Sarek said. "It has been years since you have listened to what I have to say."
"What you have said has not always been the wisest."
For years Spock longed to hear those words come from his own mouth. He imagined they would cause a very different reaction, though. He would be proud of himself, walk out with a new found confidence and pride. Instead, he shrunk in his chair as Sarek fixed him with a cold glare. It was obvious who still had the upper hand in their relationship.
"I have only wanted the best for my son," Sarek's voice was low and threatening. "If it has come off as an inconvenience, I apologize."
Spock stared down at his lap. His cheeks burned and his throat very nearly closed up. The comment made him want to take everything back. Of course he knew that his father had nothing but the best interests for him. He wished to apologize but refused to give in. For once he wanted his father to have to compromise.
"It's getting late. We should leave," Stonn's voice, calm as usual, interrupted the heavy silence. "Thank you for having us."
"Thank you for coming," Amanda said sincerely, if a bit awkward.
They stood and Amanda wrapped Spock in a tight hug. "Congratulations, sweetheart."
Spock nodded stiffly and shuffled towards the door. Stonn put a hand on the small of his back as soon as Amanda closed the door behind them with a wave. Protectively crossing his arms, Spock slumped in the passenger's seat and focused on the dashboard as they drove away.
"Spock, you're not eating," Jim said, concern masking his voice.
"I am not hungry."
"You said that during lunch. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
Spock picked up his plastic fork, scooped up a small pile of peas and put them in his mouth and began chewing. Jim didn't look amused. With some effort, Spock swallowed them.
"That doesn't count," Jim mumbled, turning back to his own tray of food.
Without the normal conversation over dinner, the dining hall seemed to be louder. Spock could hear every discussion, every pan that hit a counter with too much force, every leg of a chair being dragged a few inches across the floor as the owner became restless, every and any sound that would usually be drowned out by his undivided attention to Jim. In essence, without Jim's distractions he was suddenly... aware and it frightened him.
"Excuse me," his voice was barely over a whisper.
Jim looked up but did not make a move to follow him through the doors of the dining hall and into the one of his own room.
After splashing cold water on his face to try to stay calm, Spock grabbed a pillow and curled around it on his bed. He shut his eyes against the brightness of the sun that leaked in through the thin, sad excuse for curtains. It was a ritual he had faced too often and had thought he would not have to again. It was only the start of the darkness he had known for so long and surely he could manage it on his own. He could fight his own demons. They were small and he would not allow them to grow or let anyone see them. Especially Jim. The man dealt with his own problems and had trusted Spock enough to tell him about his condition only a week ago. How could Spock dump it on him so soon? Jim might misunderstand or it might upset him enough to distract him from his own treatment and progress. He had come so far since his admittance five weeks ago. By his third month, he would probably be released. There were several outcomes and the negatives outweighed the positives. It was his burden only; no one else needed to get dragged down.
Spock's stomach suddenly cramped, pulling him from his thoughts. It was such a familiar, loathsome feeling. Not having any appetite yet his body insist he eat something. The little food he ate that day at breakfast had very nearly made a reappearance right before his appointment with Pike (which was a whole new can of worms. Again he managed to convince Pike he was in no need of any extra mental assistance despite his "Your eyes always show what you try to hide.")
Perhaps Jim would cause trouble later in the evening and make him forget his miseries for at least a few minutes.
The food in Spock's stomach had become a hard lump. He closed his eyes and laid his head on the headrest.
"It could have gone worse," Stonn tried reassuring him after 30 minutes of driving.
Yes, Spock thought. But it could have also gone much better - perhaps if I had said nothing.
The lump grew and moved. It felt as though it was a ball of wet concrete trying to fight its way out of Spock's body. A sweat broke out across his forehead and he clutched his shirt in fistfuls, begging for the food to stay down.
"Are you alright?" Stonn asked, quickly glancing at him.
Spock didn't answer for a moment. He swallowed hard, trying to force down the bile that threatened to rise. "Pull over," he choked out.
Stonn had already been in process of doing so and Spock was out of his seatbelt, clutching his mouth before the car came to a full stop. He tried to put some distance between his vomit and the car. As he doubled over, heaving on the side of the entrance ramp, he berated himself for becoming so upset. What good did vomiting have? Was he going to get all of his self-pity out through his mouth? Spock actually humored himself for a moment. Maybe his emotions did come out in the form of undigested casserole and after he finished, he would feel better. As though he didn't have a care in the world and he could think of his father with ease. It was silly, though, and he trudged back to the car with his anxieties in tow.
Stonn's face was creased in concern. He turned on the lights in the car when Spock closed his door. "You aren't ill, are you?"
Spock shook his head. "I'm fine."
"Haven't you said 'fine' is unacceptable? That it has variable meanings?" Stonn watched him get settled back into his seat. "You're pale."
"I'll recover by the morning."
Spock leaned back on the seat, closing his eyes again. Stonn shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over him like a blanket. He tucked it around his shoulders to make sure it would stay. After letting his hands linger, he pulled his seatbelt back on and turned the lights off. A nearby streetlight was bright enough for Stonn to make out Spock's face. His eyebrows were drawn together from nerves, making the rest of his face look tense and 15 years older. It was not the first time Stonn had seen Spock like that. During exams, when all students were under considerable stress, Spock seemed to age as he poured all concentration into essays and books. It was nothing that couldn't be fixed if Stonn dragged him to bed and their limbs tangled together under the neglected sheets. When Stonn led Spock to his dorm room that night, he could not recreate the same effect.