Enterprise High
being a high school AU of ST: XI
with many hijinks
and much angst
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Chapter Ten: The Savage Curtain
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"Never have I ever paid for sex," said Sulu.
Kirk drank.
"Never have I ever cheated in a relationship," said Chekov.
Kirk drank.
"Never have I ever taken hard drugs," said Scotty.
Kirk drank.
"Never have I ever slept with more than ten people in a week," said Chapel.
Kirk drank. It was beginning to feel like all he did was drink.
"You are despicable," Uhura growled at him.
Kirk shrugged. He didn't care about much anymore.
"Never have I ever been in a threesome," she said.
Kirk drank. So did Scotty, Uhura, Chekov, and Bones.
"Never have I ever kissed someone," said Spock.
"Yes you have," said Kirk without thinking.
Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "Indeed, James? And you would know better than I, I suppose? I have been kissed, but I have not initiated the kissing."
"Uh," said Kirk. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." He took a drink along with everybody else and tried to smile, genuinely not sure why he had said that. "Moving on. Never have I ever…" As usual, he took a moment to come up with something. "… gone streaking."
Much to everybody's surprise—everybody took a drink.
"Oh my god, you have?" said Chapel to Spock. "You know what that is?"
"I would prefer not to discuss the incident," said Spock, attempting to look dignified. "Let us simply say that honor was at stake."
"Whose honor?" asked Chekov.
"I would prefer not to discuss the incident."
"How old were you?" demanded Scotty.
"I would prefer—"
"Never have I ever," said Bones loudly, "had sex with a teacher."
That distracted everybody.
Kirk drank. And so did Uhura.
"No," she said, before anybody could get a syllable out. "I am not telling you."
A slow smile was spreading across Scotty's face.
"I will kill you," she warned him. "You will die."
"The cat's out o' th' bag, lass," said Scotty.
"I swear to God —"
"'Twas Mr. Sinor," said Scotty, positively beaming. Uhura hid her face in her hands.
"Your Vulcan professor?" cried Sulu.
"I don't want to talk about it," said Uhura, voice muffled.
"Oh, that is so not an option," said Chapel. "When did this happen? Was it this year?"
"No," muttered Uhura. "It was during the summer. I didn't know he was a teacher. God, the first day of class was so awkward."
"How did you manage?" asked Sulu. "He's a Vulcan. I thought they were, like, asexual or something. Sorry, Spock."
"No matter, Hikaru."
"Well, uh, he was kinda drunk," said Uhura, looking anywhere but at Spock.
"Vulcans do not drink," said Spock automatically. When everybody snickered, he put his icewine down, scowling.
"I am half human, may I remind you," said Spock sternly. "Pure Vulcans have almost no tolerance for alcoholic beverages; what they drink does not filter through their—"
"We're students, not idiots," growled Bones.
"He had like a quarter of a shot," said Uhura. "It was enough. Please, can we move on?"
"Oh, I don't think so," said Chapel. "Can you look him in the eye yet?"
"Definitely not," said Uhura. "And also, guys, I wasn't lying about having had sex with a stranger. I'd met him before."
"Mmhm."
"I had! Maybe it hadn't been for long, but… still. I knew of him, at least. Now seriously. Who's going next?"
"My turn," said Sulu, waving his hand tipsily in the air. "Something serious, maybe? How about, never I have ever tried to kill myself?"
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Kirk and Spock took small, self-conscious drinks.
They were both remembering.
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As Spock fell, he regretted his actions, he regretted his heritage, he regretted his whole life. He watched the ground devour the sky until the ground was all that was left, and then it ate him too, biting into his back, snapping it clean in half with its blunt brown teeth.
When he woke up, the regret was still there, laced with pain. Without hesitation he tried to rewire the machine he was hooked up to, trying to force it to overdose him. The nurses wrestled the cords away, pressing hyposprays into his neck.
When he woke up again, he was restrained. He tore at his bindings until doctors flooded the room. He tried to calm, but all the people—they were too much, too loud, too soon. He wrenched at the restraints, screaming. His barely-healed back broke again, and the pain consumed him like the ground had.
When he woke up again, he was facing a window. His mind was filled with drugs. He was in the psych ward. They didn't trust him. Why should they?
He floated, for a while, watching the sky.
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Winona slapped Kirk across the face, panicking. She forced syrup of ipecac down him and leaned him over a trashcan. She was yelling, tears streaming down her face. He couldn't hear anything but the hateful beat of his heart. The pills came up, a white mass that tore apart his throat, and he collapsed.
In the hospital, he wouldn't speak to anybody, not the doctors, or the nurses, or the psychologists. Not even his mother, or his brother. And certainly not his stepfather, who only visited him once anyway.
He just lay there, wishing he could have succeeded, but hating himself for trying.
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Everybody was asleep.
No, not everybody. Spock was awake. He wasn't tired.
The game hadn't lasted long after that. Nobody had meant to stumble that far into serious territory. They lapsed, separating. Bones tried to talk to Kirk, but Kirk wouldn't talk to him, not about what had happened. Spock wouldn't talk to anybody.
Eventually they faded into sleep.
Spock remained, staring out a window. Darkness had swallowed the house.
The house was full of windows. They all let in the bright moonlight, casting shapes into stark relief. The house looked filled with monsters. Spock supposed it was, in a way. He put his hand on a glass pane, eyes tracing the outline of trees outside.
He stepped amongst their sleeping forms, observing their breath, the flicker of their eyelids. Sulu was asleep next to Chekov, his hand stretched out towards the boy, nearly touching Chekov's sleeping bag. Kirk was curled up, almost fetal, a deep frown on his face. He was angled away from Bones, who was open to him, almost inviting. Chapel, near Bones, was asleep in much the same fashion as Sulu. A hand reached towards Bones, but he was very far away. Scotty slept like Spock would like to, on his back with his arms crossed over his chest. Uhura was invisible under her covers, separated from everyone else.
He paused in the center of them. They were splayed around him as if he had killed them, or defeated them. He couldn't decide which.
He moved out of the living room into a hallway, then into another large chamber. He sank to the hardwood floor, back to the entrance, eyes on the outdoors. He didn't know how long he watched the night.
"Spock," said a voice behind him.
Uhura was awake. She wasn't tired either.
He turned and looked at her for a long moment. She was framed in another window, wrapped in the blanket she had brought with her. She looked like a priestess wrapped in a ceremonial robe. Her loose hair glowed in the moonlight. He felt his throat dry. There was something like awe climbing up his brain stem, wrapping itself around his thoughts.
He moved over a little, making room for her next to him. She settled beside him.
The room looked out over a zen garden. They were silent, watching the stillness. Spock felt wrapped in a blanket of calm.
"Things—things come out prettier, when they're bad," said Uhura quietly, at last. "Because then every drop of good is beautiful."
"Yes," Spock replied after a while, staring into the sky. "Even when those drops are few and far between. Sometimes they can be like water in the desert. You want them so badly, but they hurt going down, since you are unused to their nourishment."
"I would pour you a cup, but not if it hurt you," said Uhura. "Unless you chose to drink despite the pain."
Spock turned to her.
"I did hurt," he said. "I do not, anymore."
He leaned to her mouth, brushing it with his lips. She was still.
"You love me," he said.
"I do," she replied.
He kissed her again. And again.
The moon glowed, abstrusely.
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