love is watching someone die (so who's gonna watch you die?) OPEN

[doublethepain]

The thing about having an eidetic memory is that try as he might, Spencer can't make himself forget. He doesn't need to look in a mirror to know that he's a complete mess between the blackening eye and the stitches at this temple and the finger-shaped bruises on his neck. He flexes his fingers on his right hand as he glances down at the cast on his left, the one the doctors had insisted on putting on him because three broken fingers apparently need more support than just a splint. His ankles and wrists are still bandaged because they're raw from trying to wriggle his way out of the zipties Mark had bound him with and he's about ready to rip his own hair out because every time he feels it brush against his neck, he remembers the way Mark had used it to his advantage, taking care to be nothing less than rough.

It's only been a few days since Joel had found him in the lighthouse but Spencer almost feels like years must have passed. He'd refused overnight treatment at the hospital--against medical advisement--and locked himself in his house because it's the only place he can go. He hasn't been in his library since he'd gotten home, though a glance inside has told him that someone--not someone, Joel, there's nobody else who could have--has cleared the floor of the glass and blood that had been left after Mark had come for him. He flinches as he remembers the sound of the glass shattering against the side of his head, remembers the sting of the whiskey spilling onto the cuts and the way Mark had grabbed his hair to assist in dragging a half-conscious Spencer out to his car.

He's supposed to be taking it easy, has already been banned from coming to work for however long the doctor had recommended, though Spencer knows he'll likely be back long before that just for the sake of his own sanity. Sitting here at home has done him little to no good, not when he'd been abducted right downstairs, in one of the few places he's ever felt truly safe. It makes his good eye water with the threat of tears at the thought of how long it might take to feel that way again.

He knows there must be talk of what happened; it's a small town and gossip travels at lightning speed and besides that, he's had people ringing the doorbell and leaving things on his doorstep and leaving messages on his phone almost non-stop. It's nice to know there are still people that care, he supposes, but one very notable person hasn't tried to check on him at all. Joel hasn't come around or called or texted and Spencer feels like such a fool. Joel's the one person he'd be willing to let in the door but he realizes now that he should have known better than to think that Joel would want to even be near him after what Spencer had put him through with Mark.

He needs a distraction, he decides, a reason to get out of the house. What's more, he needs to get rid of this hair. Nearly everything seems to be a reminder of what had happened at the moment but at least he can fix the hair. He grabs one of Dane's old baseball caps and shrugs on a jacket, mindful of his injured hand, before walking out the door and heading straight toward the barber shop. The whole cut takes less than an hour and though the bruises on his face are more pronounced now without the frame of his longer locks, Spencer already feels a bit lighter. One less thing to remind him of Mark's assault.



He shoves his good hand in his pocket as he leaves the shop, unsure of where to go or what to do next.





[OOC: You can find Spencer anywhere you'd like. Roaming around town, grabbing a coffee, back at his house, anywhere. Dude needs a friend.]

Comments

[asharpertongue]

Lara spots him walking along the boardwalk. She'd tried to find him at the hospital but they said he'd been discharged so she tried him at his home - again with no luck. She was walking back home and there he was.

She breathes a sigh of relief at seeing him and immediately frowns when she sees how beat up he is.

Walking up, she smiles gently. "Spencer..."

[doublethepain]

He's been walking with his head down, staring at his feet as he shuffles along who knows where--toward the boardwalk, apparently--but when he hears her voice, he freezes. It's the first time a friend, other than Joel, will have seen him like this and it's harder to swallow than he would have thought.

He slowly lifts his head, pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket and slipping them on to detract from the black eye, and forces a smile. "Hi, Lara."

[asharpertongue]

She'd already seen the black eye when he puts the shades on and she winces in sympathy.

She's careful when she goes in to hug him, but she can't not do it. They might never have been all that physical but her siren side needs to make sure he's in one piece and after seeing Joel yesterday, she isn't inclined to fight it back.

Letting him go, she ran a hand over his hair. "Suits you."

[doublethepain]

He tenses at her touch, moreso than usual because he's still involuntarily prepared for pain. He relaxes a bit when she's nothing but gentle, not that he ever would have imagined she'd be anything less, and gives her an awkward pat with his good hand before shifting out of her arms.

He wrinkles his nose but his smile grows a bit more genuine when she reaches for his hair and he shrugs a shoulder. "I needed a change."

[asharpertongue]

"It suits you." she said and gestured along the boardwalk, figuring that after a stay in hospital he'd want to be in the fresh air for a while.

She'd wait for him to talk. He was clearly still working through it and she didn't want to rush him.

[doublethepain]

He hesitates for just a moment before falling into stride with her next to him. Going back home means being alone and being alone gives him too much time to replay what had happened in his head again.

"What about the cast?" he asks, trying to keep his tone light. "Does that suit me, too?'

[asharpertongue]

"That...not so much. I think you should lose it as soon as possible." she said firmly.

[doublethepain]

"Three to four weeks," he tells her with a grimace. "The doctors said everything else should have faded by then. I won't even have any scars."

Not the visible sort, anyway. He doesn't know how long it's going to take him to be able to close his eyes and not see Mark's face above him but then, maybe the solution to that is to never close his eyes.

[asharpertongue]

She nods. "The bruises will be gone by the end of the week. Sooner if you let Riley work her magic on you." She looped an arm carefully through his. "Everything mends, in time."

[doublethepain]

"'"It has been said that time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but it is never gone.'" He gives Lara a sidelong glance, long enough to let her see the full extent of the wounds to his face before ducking his head again. "Rose Kennedy said that. I believed it after my mother and brother died and I believe it now, too."

Maybe that's not the best way of looking at things but it's the only ways he's got so far. He's never been somebody's target, not to this extent. He's never been more than bullied, knocked around a little bit; but he's not sure how this is going to mend itself or whether he'll ever mend the right way.

[asharpertongue]

"She's right. But there's a reason scar tissue is tougher than regular skin. Means you're stronger." She hated seeing the damage that asshole had done to both Joel and Spencer but he needed shoring up, not sympathy.

[doublethepain]

Rationally, Spencer knows she's right. He knows that eventually, he'll move past this and things will get easier. He'll stop thinking of Mark's hands around his throat every time he has to pause to catch his breath; he'll stop picturing the terrifying gleeful look on Mark's face when the man had snapped his fingers, one by one; and maybe he'll even be able to go back into his library without letting his eyes travel to the exact spot he knows that glass had been shattered against his head.

Right now, though, none of that has stopped. He sees it all in his mind, every little detail, and he's ready to tell people he's fine because there's nothing else he can do but there's nothing else he can do. "I don't feel stronger," he admits. His voice isn't meek, it isn't small, he's just stating a fact. "I know he's in custody, has probably already been sent back to Canada, but-- But he's still here." He unconsciously brings a hand up to rub at his temple, being mindful of his bruised eye. "I'm afraid that he'll be taking up permanent residency."

[asharpertongue]

"He won't. He's beneath you, Spencer, and behind you. The more time passes, the further back and deeper down he'll be." She meant it too. No one hurt her friends and got away with it. In a year, maybe two, he'll have an accident in prison. If she'd known about Mark before this things would never have gotten this far.

[doublethepain]

Mark's not, though, and that's the thing of it. He wants to tell Lara so but he doesn't know how to explain it; he doesn't know how to say that Mark is everywhere right now, even in places Spencer doesn't associate with the man.

"The logical part of me knows you're right," he says, "but then again, I've never been too worried about that part." It's the other side of the coin, the part of him that imagines and creates and dreams that gives him cause for concern. His doctor had told him to be prepared for a certain level of post-traumatic stress and Spencer has been resistant to the idea but he's starting to think it wouldn't hurt just to take a few preventative measures. Seeking the support of friends is one, though he's missing one very important figure in that scenario.

He glances at Lara, chewing on his bottom lip as he hesitates more than once to ask the question he wants to ask. "Have you been to see him? Joel, I mean."

[asharpertongue]

She nods. "Last night. He was...well he needed a little company so I went and fed him coffee for a while."

[doublethepain]

"Nice of you," he murmurs, nodding absently. "I had a friend drop off some soup on my doorstep." The corners of his mouth pick up fondly at the thought of it. "Emily Watkins, do you know her? Best baker in town."

[asharpertongue]

She shook her head. "I don't. But it's good to know you're getting fed." She smiled a little. He could eat like a horse when he thought no one was looking. If his appetite was back then he was going to be fine.

[doublethepain]

"I told her my mother would love her," he says with a short laugh. It's with fondness that he thinks that, though his chest tightens a little like it always does when he thinks of his family. Still, he knows his mother would have liked to know that he's befriending people who are looking out for him. He's been lucky in that regard. "Anyway. Enough about me. Did you ever go on that mini-golf date with Levi?"

[asharpertongue]

She smiled at him fondly. he clearly wanted to have his mind taken off it all and she could oblige.

"Yes. It was hilarious. Neither of us can play at all. We scandalised a pair of old stuck up snobs too." She grinned. "It was a good night."