Helena only realized she'd blacked out when her eyes pulled open once again.
She only registered she was now in Diane's arms when Diane spoke.
"Oh, are you coming back to me?" Her beautiful professor's voice was soft in her ear. "There's a good girl. It's time for the next step, now."
"W... what?"
"Next step, Helena." Helena felt Diane gently kick her ankle, nudging her to lift it and take a step forward. Her foot did not land at the height she expected. They were going upstairs?
"You passed out, poor girl." Diane stroked her hair fondly and guided her to the next step. "Can't even handle a low-alcohol drink without relapsing. You could have seriously hurt yourself, you know."
There was a note of reprimand in her voice that made Helena blush.
"S-Sorry," she mumbled. "I... don't know..."
She trailed off, uncertainty tugging at her. No, wait. It hadn't been mild. 35% wasn't mild. Hadn't it been 35%?
The thought melted away as she realized Diane was guiding her to take another step, and she obeyed, even as confusion swirled inside her. "W-Where are we... where are you, um, taking me?"
If she'd passed out--if she was blackout drunk--shouldn't she maybe be going to a hospital? Or... or...
"To bed," was Diane's reply, her voice calm and without a drop of doubt.
"Oh." Helena's heart started to race, and she felt her cheeks burning hot, her vision going blurry with drunken nerves, with shameful desires. "I... I can just, um, take the couch."
"Stop being silly, Helena. There's a spare room. Next step."
"Oh." Helena was glad she wasn't looking at Diane, so Diane couldn't have a chance to read the wretched mix of embarrassment and disappointment on her face. "Y-Yeah," she mumbled, taking another step. "But, um, I..." She gave a sheepish laugh. "I may not, um, be in much shape to take them down tomorrow morning. The stairs."
"I know." Diane's hot breath steamed against her neck. "You'll be staying in tomorrow."
"But--"
"You relapsed tonight, sweetie." Helena's heart quickened at the demeaning pet name, but Diane just kept talking as if it meant nothing. "Someone's got to keep you in hand. As long as you're in such a state that you can't take care of yourself, I will be keeping you here where I can watch you."
Diane's heart was pounding. "B-But I can--"
"No."
And that, Helena realized as her voice faded to a squeak, was that.
But Diane wasn't done. "The fact that you're arguing at all," she said, her voice like a silken garrote, "tells me that you aren't able to take responsibility anymore. You gave it up to me down there."
Diane held in a whimper. They reached the top of the stairs.
This was a mistake. No. fuck. This was
such
a mistake. She was... she was letting Diane take advantage of her. Wasn't she?
"You... got me drunk," she whispered.
"What?" Diane turned to her, perplexed. "I what?"
Just the look on Diane's face made Helena want to shrink back and bury her face in Diane's shoulder. But she forced herself to meet Diane's gaze as Diane led her down the hall. "You... you made me drink!"
Diane stared at her as if she'd said that there was a unicorn outside. "Thank you for demonstrating why I can't let you go out on your own right now. Helena, how exactly did I
make
you drink?
She had the voice. The professor voice, the voice she'd only had to use on Helena once in class when Helena had turned in an assignment late.
"Susan, come here,"
she had called.
"Helena and I are talking about professional etiquette, and we have a hypothetical to pose to you."
She had ignored Helena's pleas to just drop it and mark the assignment as a zero.
"If you found yourself sick and couldn't finish an assignment on time, would
you
ask for an extension up-front, or would you put it off until the day it's due and then expect an Incomplete?"
She'd still accepted the paper, too. It had been about teaching her a lesson, and it had worked.
That voice wrapped around Helena's certainties now and applied the gentlest of pressures.
"I... your hand, um..."
"Yes? My hand?"
"... you were helping me, um..."
"I was helping you? Yeah, I can see my crimes are beyond measure. It's the chair for me."
"No, I'm--I'm trying to--!" Helena felt her temper rising. Sheer embarrassment was pulling it out of hiding after having quashed it for the last few hours.
"Hush." Diane sighed, reaching over to stroke Helena's hair. "You're right."
Helena's lashes met in two rapid, confused flutters.
"Whatever you're trying to say, it's not fair to ask you when you're like this." Diane's fingers ran delicately through her hair. "I'll ask you tomorrow, if you remember. Okay, Helena?"
Helena hesitated. More doubt swirled inside her. Diane was apologizing? Or... almost apologizing. She was being gentler, now, at least. Sweeter.
That relief clouded Helena's mind still further, and she found herself leaning into the pets. They were a little condescending... but then, Diane had the privilege of condescending to students. She was a professor, wasn't she?
For now.
Until Helena told everyone... the things she'd figured out. About Diane being a fraud. Showed people the evidence, though right now it was hard to remember the exact details. She would remember them in the morning, though. And then... Professor Wood would be gone.
She was caught off-guard by an ache rose in her chest. Diane would be leaving. Whatever her faults, she had been Helena's favorite professor. Helena had been bound for an A grade. Now Diane was leaving, and everyone would have to repeat their courses, and it would all be her fault.
Did Diane think Helena hated her? That hurt more than it should have. Helena couldn't help, though, but dwell on her unkind words earlier.
Diane wasn't a bad person. Helena could tell just by the tenderness with which she tended to her. Embarrassing as it was to have let herself slide into this state--and maybe it was a little Diane's responsibility, but Diane was right, Helena couldn't possibly be blameless here--Helena couldn't imagine it was feigned. It felt nice. It had to be genuine on some level.
Diane cared for her. She tried to suppress the thrill of affection and hope--
hope
--at that.
"I'll miss you," she said, the words slurred by the impulsiveness that bore them from her.
Diane looked a little taken aback. She blinked twice at Helena.
Helena suddenly felt self-conscious. "I mean, you're... even though, you know..." She longed to bite her knuckles, a habit she'd struck years ago. "I mean, you're... nice." Her head swam with alcohol. The warnings and red flags inked in her head had not yet had time to dry, and sweet drink had a knack for smearing such things away. All she could think about was embarrassment over her vocabulary--and terror over letting Diane even
