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

[doublethepain]

Spencer's gone. He's lost in this kiss, one that he thought might never happen again because their first couple had been wrought out of something so awful. He remembers feeling like he'd needed it, needed that physical contact with Joel, but now... He just wants it, with every part of himself; he wants to know what it feels like to touch Joel like this without the threat of pain and anguish looming over them. This is what he's been imagining, though he could have done without the bruises and the injured hands and the bad memories; this is the way it should have happened the first time, Joel's lips gentle but urgent as they press against Spencer's. It surprises him how quickly they learn to move in sync but then again, he feels like how things have been between them since they'd met. He's not particularly great at this, Spencer knows that, but the thing that makes all the difference is that he also knows Joel will be patient with him. They can be patient for each other, figure this out together, take their time with each other because if Joel really means what he says then neither of them are going anywhere.

When they finally part, Spencer can't help the shy smile that plays at the corners of his lips as he risks a glance up at Joel. He feels better, and he knows that the logical explanation is that this kind of touch releases endorphins, it gets oxytocin flowing through the body and that both calms the nervous system and boosts positive emotions but at the same time, he thinks it's really just Joel. A hug from Cosette or Lara wouldn't make him feel this way, there have been exactly zero people in his life who've made him feel this way. He hesitates to say that he'd given up on finding someone to be intimate with but he'd never really thought much on it since high school--and even then, it hadn't exactly changed much--until he'd spent so much time with Joel. It's difficult for him to trust, really trust beyond being willing to talk about the basics, and he finds that with Joel, he's not afraid to smile; to laugh; to cry; to do whatever comes naturally.

He can't do much with his left hand but he wraps his other arm around Joel's waist, unwilling to let any open space come between them right now. He's still slightly out of breath from the kiss, from how right it had felt even after everything, but he leans in to press his lips lightly against Joel's again, more of a peck than anything because he wouldn't have any way of really knowing this, but it's addicting. Sharing a moment like this with someone he already considers so important to him, so integral to making it through the day with a smile on his face, is an incredible feeling and he wonders whether Joel is the reason he's gone out of this way to be alone all this time. He can't imagine that there's anywhere else out there who'd make him feel so content or comfortable, it's almost like he's just been biding his time until he'd found Joel. Well, if he believed in that sort of thing, that is.

"Have you ever heard the Chinese proverb about the red string of fate?" he asks, ghosting his lips over Joel's before tilting his head to the side to press a soft kiss to one of his bruises. "'An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break.'" He knows it's a little silly, an excessively romantic notion that's probably far too soon to bring up, but in spite of that, it feels appropriate right now.

"You found me," he murmurs and maybe he's not just talking about Friday night. He takes a moment to study Joel's face, wanting to memorize every detail even though he already does. He hates that there are bruises, hates that Joel had gotten hurt and that Mark Fuller had come here and so easily almost ruined so much. They're better than Fuller, though, they're better than the pain--or at least, Spencer can learn to be with the help he has, with the arms that are around him. "I'm not the kind of person who clings to little hopes but that night, if I was sure of anything, it was that you'd find me."

[just_another]

They're still standing there just inside the door and Joel still has the bag of books hooked over his arm and he thinks he should put it down and they should move further inside, but he's also fairly certain he doesn't want to move ever again. A low noise escapes him when Spencer's lips brush his jaw and he knows there's a bruise there, he can feel it, but the touch of Spencer's mouth against his skin makes it easy for him to forget that any bit of him is in pain. He'd come here fully expecting to be turned away and he thought he'd been prepared for it, that he would have been able to handle it, but now that he knows the alternative he knows, too, that he might never have gotten over that sort of rejection. If Spencer had asked him to leave, he would have, but he knows his life would have been changed. Keeping himself alone wouldn't have been difficult after that, because in ten years, Spencer is the only person he's wanted like this and he can't imagine finding anyone else in another ten.

A slow shiver works its way up his spine at Spencer's words and he pulls back just a little, just enough to really look at him for a long moment. It's impossible for him to deny even for a second how beautiful Spencer is, how deeply attracted Joel is to him, but he's never been the type to base his attraction to someone exclusively on the physical. There are plenty of beautiful people in this town, some of whom have even shown interest in him now and then, but he's never cared until now and he knows it's more than just Spencer's smile or his eyes or the angle of his jaw. It's the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the things he knows and the way he's so willing to share them. Joel has heard the story before, remembers it from something he's read at some point, but hearing Spencer tell it, hearing him say it will never break, it's an entirely different experience than reading the words on his own. Having them applied to himself, to their situation, it's enough to pull a smile out of him for the first time in days.

When he kisses Spencer again, it's a little more heated, an attempt to say everything he doesn't have the words for. That of course he found Spencer, he'll always find him, that he isn't going to waste this chance he's been given, that he won't take it for granted, not even for a second. His teeth graze Spencer's lower lip gently and when they part again, he's smiling, breathless, and he knows he wants to kiss Spencer again and again, he doesn't want to stop, but he also knows they can't just stand here for the rest of the day. He realizes now that although Spencer has never given him a tour, he's seen the entire house after running through it room by room Friday night, opening every day, afraid of what might be on the other side. He much prefers seeing it now, with Spencer here and safe. "Of course I found you," he says, brushing his hand awkwardly over Spencer's hair, wishing he could get rid of the brace and just use his hand again, run his fingers through Spencer's hair. "We had a date." And they can try again, he realizes. Maybe not right away, not until they're both feeling better, but they can. There can still be a movie, there can still be walking around town until the sun comes up. He can still kiss Spencer on his porch until they're both breathless. He can still spend far too much of his time thinking about what it'll be like to drag Spencer down into his bed one day, because it's still possible.

"I ruined one of your shirts," he says, then drops his head slightly, looking amused. "To find you, I mean. I used one for a locator spell. I needed something that belonged to you, something I could create a map with and I thought you'd probably rather I end up burning one of your shirts than one of your books."

[doublethepain]

He's becoming more and more delirious with relief and the euphoria of Joel kissing him again, and he doesn't want this to stop. He has nearly a decade of lost time to make up for, after all, and he can't think of anyone else he'd rather do that with than Joel. He kicks the front door shut then tugs at the hem of Joel's shirt, taking a step backwards and encouraging the other man to follow without letting go because the last time he'd let go of Joel, he'd wound up twisted inside at the thought that Joel might never come back. This isn't just the sort of feeling that can be deemed temporary or brought on by the heat of the moment or any of those things; this is the sort of feeling that comes around so rarely that Spencer doesn't even find it familiar, the sort of feeling that he knows he needs to hold onto even in spite of his lack of experience. He doesn't know anybody quite like Joel, they're kindred spirits in the sense that they're both guarded in so many ways. They choose who they let into their lives carefully, wisely, and even then, neither of them are all too quick to divulge much about their lives, their pasts, how they've come to be who they are today.

Even now, they're both suffering from having parts of their lives that they'd rather just keep buried on full display for too many prying eyes to see. That's the very reason he's kept himself locked away so often, keeping to himself because he's gotten tired of trying to figure out who wants to befriend him and who'd rather just spit in his face. Joel is different, and Spencer thinks he must have realized that from the day they'd met because otherwise, why would he have invited Joel in to his library in the first place? It's his place of sanctuary, of letting himself feel disconnected just like he'd said to Joel that same night--although now, he supposes, it's temporarily become just another room to avoid. He can't imagine being content in being alone in there for a long time, or looking at the old lighthouse without wanting to be sick. Lara and Emily and Cosette, they've all told him that he'll be okay, that he's going to rise above this because he's better than all of it; but he knows he can't do it without help. Closing his eyes, trying to ignore that there's a brace between him and the brush of Joel's fingers over his hair, Spencer thinks that he has just the help he needs.

"We had a date," he repeats, giving a slight nod. They'd had one and it hadn't exactly ended well--and how many times has he said that about the evenings they've spent together so far?--but now at least he's certain that there's time and room for improvement. "We can have more dates." He knows he sounds like a child, testing out the words as if Joel might up and change his mind, laugh in Spencer's face and leave, but Spencer isn't afraid anymore. There's a burst of confidence that comes with being kissed, he's found, so he does it again and lets this one linger for a long moment before dropping his forehead to Joel's shoulder and huffing a short laugh.

"If you'd burned one of my books, I wouldn't have let you in that door," he teases, reaching for the straps of the bag on Joel's shoulder and lowering it the floor. He tilts Joel's chin up so their eyes meet and Spencer knows what Joel will see in his own--trust, a passion that he doesn't have for anyone else, and valuable contentment that is more than welcome after the violence they'd been subjected to over the stretch of this weekend. He takes a few more steps backwards, not even sure where he's trying to lead them, but he offers a crooked smile. "I suppose I can forgive you, seeing as how it led you to save my life and all. I may have to steal one of your cardigans as penance, though, be warned."

[just_another]

Whenever Spencer is leading him, Joel is more than happy to go and he lets himself be tugged along, leaving the books, leaving the world outside, and even know he knows he'll have to face it again eventually, he thinks they both deserve this. With what they've been through, he doesn't think anyone will blame them if they just take a few days to hole up and try to at least start on the road of recovery. The store can stay closed for a few more days and when he does finally go back, he realizes he wants to take Spencer with him. He doesn't need help running the store and Spencer has his own job, but there's something quietly appealing to Joel about working, ordering inventory or unpacking new stock, and knowing he's not alone in the space for the first time since his parents left. And he finds he isn't even sure what to address first; the possibility of more dates or the idea of Spencer stealing his clothes, wearing one of his cardigans, a thought he'd had the night they'd spent drinking in Spencer's library, both so overwhelmingly good in their own ways that he finds himself speechless for a moment.

And when Spencer tilts his chin up, there's a moment when he wants to avert his gaze, afraid he'll still see blame in Spencer's eyes, but he forces himself not to look away. What he sees there isn't blame at all, isn't even close, and he studies Spencer for a long moment, relieved and so grateful that he's here now, that he hadn't continued to be so stupid and blind that he'd stayed away. He's grateful that Spencer has let him come inside, for the pressure and warmth of Spencer's body against his. He knows there are still questions he'll have to answer, a full explanation for what happened with Amy, because he doesn't want Spencer to wonder, but he's not afraid of telling him that story anymore. It's not a good one and Joel knows it makes him look foolish and even dangerous, but he doesn't think it's the sort of story that will chase Spencer away. Not after everything else they've already been through.

"You can have all my cardigans," he says, a gentle smile curving his lips. "You can wear them on all the dates I'll take you on." He doesn't imagine the two of them will suddenly become social butterflies and knows, more often than not, their dates will probably consist of staying in, but he knows he'll go out of his way now to do anything he can to make them go well. They've had so many nights that have ended poorly and all he wants is to be able to give Spencer something good. His smile fades a little and he looks at Spencer more seriously. "Have you been okay?" he asks. "Since Friday. Have you... have you been able to sleep?"

Joel has managed, only because he'd been drunk for a good part of the time he'd been away from Spencer. It hadn't been good sleep, but it had been the only way he'd been able to manage without finding himself back there at the lighthouse, hearing Mark's voice, hearing him threatening to kill Spencer. If he's had to drink just to get a few hours of sleep, he can't imagine what it's been like for Spencer and he knows he can't take any of it back and he can't make up for the fact that he hasn't been here, but he can try.

[doublethepain]

Spencer tenses at the questions, though he tries to keep his smile from faltering while he's still facing the other man. He loosens his hold on Joel, pulling away a bit before turning his back completely as he heads toward the dining room where he's left his pain medication. He'd known from the start that this conversation would be inevitable, there's no way Joel wouldn't have asked even if they spent the rest of their day locked away in this house and exchanging more of the kisses that had brought Spencer to a much calmer place. His heart rate is picking up again now, though, as he brings his hand up to rub at his temple again. It's an effect of the concussion, these headaches and the slight ringing in his ears that comes and goes, but he'd had an MRI the night of the incident and it had shown no excessive damage to his brain or memory--he at least knows that last part for sure because he hasn't been able to stop flashing back to Friday night, to Mark's raw fury and Joel's blackened eyes and and hands around his neck. He wishes someone could tell him how long that's suposed to last. The cast, the bruises on his neck and face, the stitches, they'll all only be visible for a matter of weeks; it's the other scars Spencer's really worried about, the ones that nobody else can see.

He wants to lie like he has been to his other friends who've asked, he wants to tell Joel that he's been out like a light because of the medication and he's fine and that there's nothing to worry about. One look at Joel's worried expression, though, is what convinces him that he can't do that. If there's anyone he can be completely open with about this, after all, it has to be Joel.

"I've slept," he says carefully, fiddling with the pill bottle he grabs from the dining table. He hasn't perfected opening the damned thing with just one hand yet but with thoughts of how to answer the question without sounding completely helpless on his mind, he sets the bottle back down harder than he probably should have and with a frustrated sigh. He runs his hand through his hair, shifting his body so it's facing Joel and offering a sheepish shrug. "I've slept but not well. Not consistently. The first night, they wanted to keep me in the hospital but I didn't want-- I wanted to make sure that--"

He bites his tongue because the truth is, he'd asked after Joel after all had been said and done and the nurses had told him Joel had already left. So he'd asked to be discharged, against medical advisement, with the hope that Joel might be here; and he had been here, Spencer had known that because the mess in the library had been cleaned up as if nothing awful had happened there mere hours before but the house had been empty and Spencer had been alone. He's not alone anymore, though. Joel's standing right in front of him and neither of them are exactly in the best of shapes but they're at least in one piece and if Spencer wants to stay that way, he knows he has to keep trying not to shut Joel out if he can help it.

"I didn't want to be there," he continues, tracing a finger against the edge of the table. "But I had to set alarms, make sure I could still wake up throughout the night, and-- well, in any case, I haven't been able to keep my eyes closed long enough without replaying what happened anyway." He swallows hard, keeping his eyes averted because even though he knows that Joel won't judge him for that, Spencer doesn't want to see the pity.

[just_another]

He should have been here, he should have stayed, and he feels his chest tighten again when Spencer says he had to set alarms to wake himself up throughout the night. He should have been here to do that for him, he should have stayed and maybe it would have been easier for them both to sleep, but he can't go back in time and he can't undo the stupid decisions he's made, so he has to force himself to stop feeling bad about it. That doesn't help anyone, it only causes him to draw back into himself and that doesn't serve either of them well right now. Being caught up inside his own head is the last thing he wants right now and he steps forward, picking up the bottle of pills that Spencer has set down. His wrist hurts, but at least he still has use of his hand and he opens the bottle, then sets it down on the table between them.

"I had to get drunk to fall asleep," he says and it's embarrassing to say it out loud, especially given that he's not much of a drinker. He's been drunk three in the past month, which is about two times more than he usually allows himself in a year, only because he's never been fond of the lack of control that comes with it. Having a drink now and then isn't something he actively avoids -- he likes beer and he likes whiskey -- but he's never spent much of his time drinking to the point of excess, but he had needed it. If there had been any hope of sleeping, he'd needed to be drunk and it shames him, but he doesn't want to lie to Spencer. About anything.

"What if I stay?" he asks, then feels his face flushing. Even now, after all they've been through, the idea of being too forward makes him uncomfortable and he glances around the room quickly, casting about for some way to make that sound less suggestive than he thinks it does. "I mean... we don't have to- I can stay in another room or we can lie down on the couch or- I just... will it help? If I'm here? Balto has enough food, I can leave her overnight and I hadn't planned on opening the store again until sometime next week anyway and I brought all those books or we could just watch a movie or..." He realizes he's started to ramble, that he's nervous, that maybe Spencer is going to think he's being much too forward, but it's all out there now. He pauses and takes a deep breath, willing himself back to a state of calm.

"I can stay," he says. "If you want me to."

He's nervous and he has no expectations, but he wants to stay. He'll sleep on the couch or in another room if Spencer wants him to, but more than anything he wants to be able to just lie down and put his arm around Spencer, draw him against his chest, do everything he can to make him comfortable. It's not like either of them are going to forget what happened Friday with any sort of ease, but he thinks it might not be quite so difficult if they're not alone. If he closes his eyes and sees Mark, feels the fear rising in him at the sight of him reaching for Spencer and wrapping his hands around his throat, all he'll need to do is open his eyes again and see him right there. Safe and alive and whole.

[doublethepain]

Spencer blinks, stunned into silence for a moment because he hadn't even considered the possibility of Joel leaving tonight. He'd already been imagining it, he realizes, finally being able to get at least the bare minimum amount of necessary sleep to make it through another day while being held in Joel's arms. He can almost feel the warmth of Joel's body against his, the kisses pressed against his forehead, the safety of being with someone he trusts without the pressure, without the fear that maybe Joel would expect something more from being in the same bed because Spencer's not ready; he's not ready, not yet, as much as he can easily conjure up an image of Joel lowering him onto his bed and slowly trailing his lips down Spencer's body, down his chest to his hips, being as gentle as always. Tonight, though, they can take comfort in just being with each other because the idea of spending another evening alone--or more specifically, another evening without Joel--is one Spencer doesn't want to entertain.

He gives a grateful smile when Joel opens the bottle for him, feeling a sharp pang of guilt because he knows Joel's wrist is hurt but knowing he'd forsake his broken fingers if Joel needed him to, and reaches to take a pill. "I do want you to," he says earnestly, popping the pill in his mouth and swallowing it dry. "I want you to stay and not have to drink your way to sleep." Joel must be on painkillers, too, and the thought of him mixing his prescription with the alcohol brings that sharp pang back in his chest and it gives him the courage to keep talking. "I want you to stop feeling guilty and I want to stop feeling guilty. I want you to read me more of The Once and Future King and I want to read you The Hobbit."

He sighs, rubbing his hand carefully over the parts of his face that aren't bruised as he steps close enough to Joel to grab hold of his hand. "I want a lot of things," he says, "and most of the time I try not to acknowledge that because I don't know how much more disappointment I can take." Not much, he's sure of that much. If he opens up like this to Joel and it turns out the whole thing implodes on them, Spencer isn't sure he'll be able to find it in himself to try again with someone else. There hasn't ever been anyone else in the first place, Darcy Haines had been his first but they hadn't dated or even come close. He and Joel haven't even actually known each other for especially long but Spencer feels like they've covered years in just weeks.

"I--" He hesitates before continuing, not wanting to sound too eager or too optimistic or too anything that might make Joel feel too pressured. He pulls on Joel's hand, nodding toward the stairs. "I feel like maybe my days of disappointment are coming to an end."

[just_another]

Joel wants to promise that he'll do everything he can to make sure he's not a source of disappointment. He wants to explain everything to Spencer and tell him how significant it was that he'd reached for things left untouched for years just to save him, but that he'd just as easily been able to let them go, too, when Spencer had asked him to. That's a part of himself he's always been afraid of, that part that has never struggled to find the darker magic, the part that accessed it with ease when he was eighteen and found it right at his fingertips again on Friday. He's always been afraid that if he ever went back there, he wouldn't be able to stop, but all it had taken was a word from Spencer and he'd let it go. He's kept himself away from any witchcraft community, so he doesn't know if it's rare or abnormal, but it feels rare. It feels important and he's not sure he has the words to explain it, not right now, but he wants Spencer to be right about everything. He wants the disappointment to be coming to an end for both of them. "I want that, too," he manages to say, his voice hoarse. Mostly, in this moment, he wants to be able to curl up somewhere and let Spencer sleep. "I just want... I want this. And you."

It's easy to follow Spencer up the stairs. At this point, Joel is fairly certain he'd follow him just about anywhere, but he only squeezes Spencer's hand gently, letting himself be led along. He'd been here only days ago, but he'd barely seen any of it in his panic. As they walk toward what he assumes is Spencer's bedroom, he laughs suddenly, lifting his hand and pressing the back of his brace against his mouth. "Does this mean I get to see the TempurPedic bed you told me about the first time I was here?" he asks, unable to stop himself from grinning. At the time it had made Spencer blush, he remembers it distinctly, and he'd only managed to keep his own attention off it because Spencer had mentioned the library at the same time.

Even now, with no expectations and knowing he's certainly not ready for anything more, it's difficult for Joel to keep his mind off the fact that he's being led to Spencer's bed. He's offered to stay in another room, but he doesn't think Spencer is taking him into a guest room and he's comfortable with that, he's pleased by it and he has no intention of trying to do anything more than sleep beside Spencer tonight, but at the same time he can't help the faint flush that's creeping up the back of his neck. He's realizing he hasn't entirely thought this through; he hasn't brought anything to sleep in and he thinks he should care, but he can't seem to bring himself to think of very much beyond the idea of sleeping beside Spencer all night. He has to wonder how much sleep he'll actually manage to get, if he'll simply be too exhausted to stay awake or too distracted by the warmth of Spencer next to him to sleep.

[doublethepain]

"It's a good bed, you'll see," Spencer says, and it occurs to him only after he's said it that there seems to be some intent behind that. To be fair, there absolutely is but for right now, the reason he wants to get Joel in bed with him is so they can hide themselves away from the rest of the world for a moment. He likes that idea, that he has someone he can do that with because he's been on his own for a long time now and there's certainly something to be said about not being alone; that is, if it's with the right person. Spencer can't imagine there being anyone more right than Joel.

Of course, there's also the tiniest of voices in the back of his mind saying that he should be cautious, that he shouldn't dive into this so quickly but then again, they haven't been going all too quickly. Where others would have probably already been intimate, he and Joel have only just kissed. He doesn't have any regrets about the progression of things between them--in fact, it's more of a comfort knowing that they're on the same page--but still, that tiny voice is there and whispering that letting someone get this close is equivalent to setting himself up for more pain. He has to believe that's not true, though. He has to believe Joel would never hurt him, naive as it may be considering there's no way he can know what the future will bring, but he's already in too deep. Joel has become an integral part of his life and losing him now would just wreck him entirely.

When they reach Spencer's room, he suddenly feels so drained, as if his body had decided to just stop working once his bed had come into view. It's having Joel here, he figures, and knowing that he won't be alone tonight. He's giving in, finally, to the need to close his eyes and let go. The only thing is, he hadn't thought this far ahead and now that they're standing in the middle of the room, his grip on Joel's hand loosening just a bit as he starts to drift toward his dresser, he isn't entirely sure what to do.

"I--" He bites his lip, not quite able to meet Joel's eyes right now. "I have things to sleep in, if you want. I don't know what you-- I mean, I--" He can't stop stammering and it's more than a little humiliating when its paired with the redness he knows his gracing his cheeks. For how close he and Joel have been getting lately, Spencer realizes he doesn't really know a majority of the basics yet. He's never in his entire life wondered the age old questions 'boxers or briefs' about anyone before but now that they're here together, he can't help but picture Joel in either one.

He has to untangle his fingers from Joel's because the heat over his face is getting worse and he needs to take a step away. He ventures over to the bed, sinking down on the edge and smiling contentedly as the mattress forms perfectly to his body shape. It eases his nerves, and he beckons Joel to join him. "You'll never want to leave this bed again, fair warning."

[just_another]

It feels like the perfect opportunity to say something, but everything that comes into Joel's head, as meaningful as they are to him, sound like some kind of line when he thinks about them. That's not what he wants. He doesn't want Spencer to think he's here just for sex, that he's here to take advantage of him in this state, that he won't continue to be here every day unless Spencer sends him away, and so he doesn't say any of them, he only walks to the bed and sinks down beside him. He should say something, he realizes, especially since Spencer has brought up the situation of what he normally sleeps in, which is nothing, but that clearly isn't going to work here. He's not jumping ahead like that, he's not ready and he doesn't think Spencer is either.

He takes off his cardigan first, pushing the buttons through with the shaking fingers of his good hand and he doesn't want Spencer to see how nervous he is or notice how warm the back of his neck is getting as he sets the cardigan aside. It's next to impossible to hide his blush, though, even as he ducks down to untie his sneakers. He toes them off one at a time, pushing them aside with his foot before he moves back on the bed a little, as if he's testing it out.

"I don't normally- I-I mean, I'll be fine like this," he says, except he's still wearing his jeans, which won't exactly be comfortable to sleep in, but he doesn't want to take them off either. He can stay like this, in his t-shirt and jeans, he doesn't think he'll notice much of anything that isn't Spencer anyway and he finds he's thinking of all the things he'll need to pick up tomorrow when he goes home. Things to bring so he can stay at Spencer's again without either of them feeling uncomfortable.

If he lets himself, he thinks he'd be capable of sitting on the edge of the bed for the rest of the night, trying to come up with something to say that doesn't sound too suggestive, so instead of letting himself fall into that trap, he moves back on the bed. His fingers brush up against a book under the pillow and he pulls it out, smiling down at the title before looking back up at Spencer again. He's still blushing, he can feel it, but he doesn't care anymore. "This is a good choice," he says and he means the book, but he means this moment, too, the bed, the decision to come upstairs, the choice they've made to be together, to do this, to let themselves me happy and maybe, just for a little while, forget about what happened on Friday.

Then he holds his good hand out toward Spencer as he leans back and he's right, it's a good bed and Joel doesn't think he wants to leave it again any time soon, but it's not the bed itself. If Spencer had led him upstairs to a wooden board or a lumpy mattress that felt like it was filled with rocks, Joel is still certain he wouldn't want to leave.

[doublethepain]

He'd forgotten that he'd slid the book under his pillow and his jaw drops in embarrassed surprise when Joel finds it; but then he remembers finding Joel on that park bench with The Hobbit in his lap and he covers his mouth with his good hand to hide his smile because weeks later, it's finally clicked. He feels a fresh wave of affection at the thought that he's found someone who wants to read books for him and it's with nothing but sincerity that he's willing to say that this must be what it's like to find one's dream person.

"Someone important to me said it's one of his favorites," he says, trying to keep a straight face but failing when the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. He can read between the lines of Joel's words, hears the meaning beneath the surface, and he couldn't agree more. This is a good choice, as nervous and awkward as he may be and will probably continue to be, he's sure of that. After everything that's happened, especially, having Joel here only confirms what Spencer had already known--there's nobody else that he'd rather be with right now, nobody else who could make him feel like maybe he won't see something awful when he closes his eyes tonight. He hesistates for just a moment before he shrugs off his jacket, tossing it so it lands on a nearby chair, and takes Joel's hand as he closes the gap between them. He lowers himself down against the other man, marveling at how well they seem to fit together as he shifts so he's on his side so that Joel can drape his arm over Spencer's hip. Spencer holds himself up on an elbow, cautiously letting his injured hand come to a rest at his side.

"It's good, right?" he asks with a small smile. He lets his gaze wander down Joel's body, pausing at his waist before he has to look away. "Are you sure you'll be comfortable? I want you to feel comfortable." Spencer himself tends to sleep in either a good set of pajamas that are always far too big for his slender frame or just a shirt and briefs. He doesn't know which would be more awkward to sleep in tonight because the pajamas would mean actually having to get up and reveal to Joel that he's practically got a collection; and the shirt and briefs are, well, the shirt and briefs. He presses a kiss to Joel's shoulderblade, liking the way he feels so much freer with the way he touches the other man when he's so often guarded about physical contact. Everything's different with Joel, everything.

He shifts again so he can brush his fingers through the ends of Joel's hair, over his jawline until he can cup Joel's cheek, before he leans in to make their lips meet. As much as he wishes their first kisses hadn't been in that lighthouse with Mark passed out just a few feet away, he thinks this is a good start at making up for it. With every kiss and every passing moment with Joel by his side, it gets easier to embrace the notion of moving on. It's not going to be tonight or tomorrow or even the day after but he has help now. He has Joel.

[just_another]

Joel wants to say he'll be comfortable no matter what simply by virtue of the fact that he's here and they're together, but he knows what Spencer is asking and he supposes sleeping in his shirt and briefs isn't the end of the world, even if that's a lot closer to naked with Spencer than he expected to be tonight. He's about to say as much and his hand even falls briefly to his belt, but then Spencer is in the bed with him, in his arms and all Joel can do is lean into the touch, lean into the kiss, and he forgets he had anything to say at all. His lips part slightly and he does it without thought, but he doesn't want to push Spencer too quickly, knows he isn't ready for too much himself and yet he can't help but get completely caught up in the kiss. He can't remember the last time he's enjoyed just kissing someone as much as he's enjoying this and he sighs into Spencer's mouth, lifting his hand to brush gently through his hair. He's wanted to do this for what feels like such a long time and he supposes, given how rarely he's wanted to get close to anyone, a month of wanting to touch Spencer and run his hand through his hair is significant.

When they part a moment later, he has to force himself to think of anything but Spencer and the fact that they're in his bed together right now. He thinks of the book he's just pulled out from under the pillow, although that doesn't necessarily help, because he knows Spencer is reading it on his recommendation. He thinks of the books downstairs instead, trying to remember everything he's brought and when he thinks he has a better handle on himself, he looks back at Spencer, his gaze drifting over his face. His fingers drift down Spencer's temple, over the edge of his jaw and trace a line down the side of his neck. "I'll- if it's okay, I can sleep in my shirt and, um... my briefs. If that's..." He trails off, both because he feels like he's going to dig himself into a hole and because he's distracted, his fingertips following the curve of Spencer's shoulder and then down his arm, exploring without thought, just relieved he's here and he's allowed to touch him.

He hates that it's taken something so awful to get them here, but he's glad he's come today and he's grateful to those who told him to do it. He might have talked himself into it eventually, but it's Emily and Lara and even Levi who were responsible for him being here. For insisting it was the right thing, that Spencer would want to see him, that they should be together now. They're right, this is where he should be, and he lets that give him the courage he needs to power through what he's trying to say. "I don't expect anything, I'm not... I'm not ready. So it's not about... I'm not trying to pressure you into anything by taking my clothes off," he says, then laughs, because it sounds ridiculous and he's still not entirely sure if he's saying it properly. Instead he just leans forward again, pressing a kiss to Spencer's mouth, then his forehead, lingering there for a moment.

Then he shifts and he can feel his face flushing again, but he uses his good hand to undo his belt, then carefully pushes his jeans down his hips. For a second, he's convinced they're going to get stuck and it's going to turn into an especially awkward moment where he has to roll away from Spencer or even stand up and undress with him lying on the bed, watching, but then he manages to push them off and he drops them beside the bed. His face feels hot and he knows his cheeks are red all over again and for a second he can't look at Spencer, has to direct his gaze up toward the ceiling, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He's not even sure what he's embarrassed about, but it's been a long time since he's even been partially naked around anyone and he doesn't know what to expect in response.

[doublethepain]

Spencer widens his eyes at the implication, shaking his head so hard that it actually dizzies him a bit and he has to remind himself that he really shouldn't be doing that when he's days into recovering from a concussion. "You're not pressuring me," he says quickly, once he's regained the ability to speak intelligible words, and there's really no good way to say that one of the most glaring problems here would be the fact that Spencer would never want their first time together--and he's thinking in absolutes not possibilities, which isn't something to scoff at--to be littered with flashes of the way Mark's hands had felt on him. He needs time, they both do; and even though he's starting to think that one day he'll be permanently red from how often Joel makes him blush, Spencer is at least glad to know they're on the same page.

He makes sure to keep his eyes on Joel's face as the other man works to get his jeans off, and he has to stretch his neck to get Joel to meet his eyes once the job is done. "I'm going to do the same," he says, and it's more difficult to undo his pants while lying stretched on his side than he'd anticipated but he manages to do it eventually and kicks them to the floor as soon as they're at his ankles. He expects to feel too exposed, like he should cover right back up, but even though he's decided that it's somehow gotten hotter in the room, he's still as comfortable as needs to be.

He tries his best to let himself relax, dropping his head down to rest on Joel's chest but still tilting it up so he can still see Joel's face, not willing to part with either the touch or the line of sight. Being close like this makes it easier to remember that Mark isn't lurking somewhere downstairs, waiting for Spencer to simply turn around in exchange for breaking a glass against the side of his head. He closes his good idea, absently trailing his fingers over Joel's collarbone, and mournfully regretting that he can't have more while his other hand is in a cast. It doesn't even matter what kind of more it is, he just wants to be touching Joel; he wants to be enveloped in Joel's arms; he wants to be reminded that he's important to someone.

"You make me feel safe." He hadn't really meant to say it out loud but he can't take it back now, not that even wants to. "I know that it's-- that what happened was complicated, and I don't have to be able to read auras to understand that you felt guilty for it but now that we're here, let me tell you again that you shouldn't blame yourself. If it wasn't for you, I don't know that I would have made it out of there at all." He takes Joel's good hand, laces their fingers together and holds it against his own chest. His heart rate is picking up because he can't imagine finding it in himself to say something like this to anyone under normal circumstances but then again, nothing between them has felt normal. It's all been unprecedented, there's literally no comparison, and Spencer kind of likes it that way.

[just_another]

He knows neither of them are ready for anything more than this, but there's a nearly undeniable part of Joel that wants to roll over onto his back and drag Spencer on top of him as soon as he's gotten undressed and although he tries to resist, he can't help glancing down the length of Spencer's body. The fact that he manages not to make any strangled noises at the sight of him is something he considers a victory and he manages a smile when Spencer settles down against his chest, looking down to meet his gaze. A week ago he'd barely been able to gather enough courage to hold his hand and now they're here and Spencer is a warm weight against his side and their hands are joined and even though Joel hates what it took to get them here, he knows he doesn't want to leave. This is exactly where he wants to be and it's exactly where he should have been right from the beginning.

It's not so easy to stop blaming himself, not even when Spencer tells him not to, but Joel promises himself that he's going to try. For ten years he's dwelled on that night on the cliff, wondering what he could have done to prevent it, how he could have resisted Amy or broken up with her or done anything just to keep it from happening and it's taken him ten years to realize he can't change the past and no amount of wishing or blaming himself will ever bring her back. It's taken him ten years to reconcile the part he had in her death and he doesn't want it to take another ten years to move past what happened in the lighthouse. Instead of sinking into himself, hiding in his guilt, Joel makes a silent promise that he's going to try this time, and he knows he's only bothering because of Spencer. For the first time he has someone in his life who might be able to convince him he's not entirely to blame.

That Spencer says he feels safe goes a long way toward that. It's the one thing Joel has dedicated his magic to and if he's managed it, even with just one person, then maybe he's done something worthwhile with his life.

"I'm glad," he says, brushing his lips over Spencer's forehead, his hair, any bit of him that he can reach in this position. "It's all I want." He's done everything he can to protect Spencer since the day they've met except be completely honest with him and that's where his guilt still lies. He can start now, though, he can change that and he lets out a soft sigh, because although he doesn't think the story will change anything they've begun here, it's still not an easy one to tell. Spencer doesn't blame him, but the story doesn't make him look good no matter how he tries to tell it and he won't change things, he won't leave parts of it out if Spencer wants to hear it at all. "Do you... I know Mark said things to you before I got there. About what happened with his sister. Do you want me to tell you?"

He's already trying to work out where to begin. It's not a complicated story and no matter how much malice Mark injected into his telling of it, Joel is sure it's likely not far off from the truth. There are only so many ways to tell a story when someone dies at the end and he doesn't want to tell it to make himself look bad, but he does want to be honest about everything that happened if Spencer wants to know.

[doublethepain]

He's not sure if it's been on purpose or not--his brain's way of preserving an extra speck of sanity, maybe--but this is the first time he's heard Mark's name spoken out loud since Friday night. It makes him stiffen, his hand tightening over Joel's as he fights the urge to get up and walk away so he can find a way to remember how to breathe again in private. He reminds himself of what he's just said, that Joel makes him feel safe, and that he doesn't have to do this alone. He's frustrated, though, that just hearing one name can have this effect on him and he knows he's been damaged, he just hadn't understood how badly until this moment. He knows he's taking far too long to give Joel an answer but his mind is working quickly to find a way out of this, running all sorts of statistics so he can focus on something than Mark Fuller and the terror that comes with nearly facing death.

"Post-traumatic stress disorder affects nearly 5.2 million adult Americans, 3.6% annually, that's 9,791,999 per year, 815,999 per month, 188,307 per week, 26,827 per day, 1,117 per hour, 18 per minute, 0 per second."

It's with a sharp intake of breath that he realizes he's muttering all of this out loud, like he's so prone to do but this isn't the sort of thing he wants to be rambling with Joel by his side, in his bed. He swallows hard, shifting onto his back and staring up at the ceiling for a moment. It's too early to tell if PTSD is what he actually has, he thinks, it's only been a few days since the incident; but the thought of it frighens him, having to deal with re-living his trauma for longer than what may be deemed an appropriate time frame and being unable to escape the anxiety that overwhelms him when he thinks on it too long, even in moments like this when he'd been so content being in Joel's arms.

"I'm sorry." He squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the pain it causes him in the tender area surrounding his bruised eye, and he can see himself saying the same thing to Joel in the lighthouse. He shakes his head, burying his face in the crook of Joel's shoulder. "I'm sorry. Please, I..." He trails off because he doesn't know what he's pleading for, but he takes a steadying breath before he continues. "Tell me what happened, I want to know." More than that, he just wants to hear Joel's voice.

[just_another]

"Hey," Joel says softly, when Spencer tenses, when he starts to list statistics about post-traumatic stress disorder, and he feels something tightening uncomfortably inside of him. He knows everyone has told him not to blame himself and, most importantly, Spencer has told him not to blame himself, but he hears that, he thinks about Spencer dealing with the aftermath in such a way and he can't help it. Had he just done something better, had he kept his distance instead of letting himself be blinded by how good he feels with Spencer, maybe he could have prevented it all. It's not fair that he's had to go through this, not when he's already been through so much over the past several years and all Joel wants to do is find a way to make it better.

It's an impossible wish, he knows that, but that doesn't stop him from thinking it.

"Hey, it's okay," he says softly when Spencer rolls toward him again and presses his face against his shoulder. He untangles their hands, lifting his again, stroking it gently over Spencer's hair. He pulls away a little, pressing kisses to his forehead, his eyebrow, the eyelid of his good eye, anywhere he can reach that isn't bruised. "Don't be sorry. You never have to be sorry."

He's wondering now if he should tell Spencer at all, but he thinks he needs to, he thinks it's the sort of thing that needs to be out in the open and sooner is probably better. Spencer has said he wants to know and Joel hesitates, but only for a moment. His keeps his arm around Spencer, keeps him close, strokes his knuckles against Spencer's cheek as he tries to think about how to start the story. There's no good way, really, no matter how long he thinks. "I met Amy when we were seventeen and... I didn't have a lot of friends, but she liked me for some reason. Her brother hated me from the start, I've never been sure why, but I didn't care at the time. We'd been dating for about four months when... Jesus, I thought I was in love with her. I guess I was. She seemed like she was getting bored of me, but I knew she liked doing things that could get her into trouble. She always wanted me to sneak out, do things that were dangerous with her and I didn't want to and I could feel her getting ready to move on." He shrugs, looking embarrassed. "So I told her I was witch. I thought maybe it would impress her." And it had, though not in the way he'd wanted it to.

"She asked about darker and darker things. She did a lot of her own research and discovered things I'd never even heard of, probably because my parents were smart enough to keep it away from me." He pauses, chewing his lower lip, looking up at the ceiling to avoid having to look at Spencer. He feels like there must be disappointment in his expression, like he must think Joel so foolish. "I didn't stop her. I never told her no. It was the one thing I could show her that I knew no other guy in Shediac would be able to. She found a spell or... a way to summon something dark. I still don't know what it was, a demon or just a presence. Something that couldn't get through to our world until we invited it and it just... it took her. Right off the cliff and into the ocean. You know, for... for a long time I thought it was going to come back for me eventually. That I might be walking near the ocean and it would just rise up and just- it would take me."

[doublethepain]

Spencer could tell Joel it's not his fault but it's easier heard than accepted, he knows that well enough. He still struggles with the fact that his mother and brother had been killed while he'd been sleeping in his bed, still struggles with why; he struggles now with the flashes of guilt he keeps catching in Joel's eyes for what had happened on Friday and all those years ago.

He takes in a deep breath before slowly letting it out as he lets Joel's voice bring him back to a more manageable mental place, as awful as the subject matter is. He glances up to find Joel avoiding his gaze so he pushes himself up into a sitting position, forcing their eyes to meet. "I can tell you the same thing over and over," he says, voice still shaky as he recovers from his episode of panic. "I can tell you it's not your fault. You were young and in love, and I can't pretend that I know what that's like but if back then you were anything like you are now, I'm not willing to believe for a second that you had anything less than good intentions. You lost sight of things because you loved somebody. You aren't the first, you won't be the last."

He reaches out to cup Joel's cheek before leaning in for a soft kiss, letting his lips linger for a moment before lowering his voice to a near whisper. "You saved my life. You came for me when nobody else would have. Do you even know what that--" He furrows his brow, willing the tears that are welling in his eyes not to fall but he's overwhelmed with so many emotions that he simply isn't used to. He wants to make Joel smile, wants to erase the pain from Joel's life and would even be willing to take it on himself if that's what it would take but that scares him. What he feels for Joel has become so strong in such a short period of time and it's only been reinforced by what had happened. Spencer's nervous, worried that he'll come off as overbearing and far too much to deal with but he keeps telling himself he needs to give Joel more credit than that.

They can protect each other, he decides. Regardless of what the situation is, Spencer a silent promise in this moment to do whatever he can to keep Joel from feeling the way he'd felt after Amy ever again. Joel deserves to smile, has done nothing but his best to keep Spencer out of harm's way since they'd met, and Spencer only hopes that he can one day at least begin to return the favor.

"I owe you so much," he continues with a short laugh. He imagines Joel would disagree, Spencer would certainly do the same if their positions were switched; but he doesn't mind owing Joel, it reminds him that there's at least one person in this world he can count on. He hopes, in fact, that he'll never find a reason to stop owing Joel.

[just_another]

Spencer is right. There are others who have gotten lost in that sort of feeling, he knows that; there are others who have done far worse, he knows that, too. What he's been afraid of and why he's kept himself away from people is the thought that he might go back there, he might lose sight again. And he has gone back there, but there's something different about Spencer, something that keeps him from losing sight of what's right and what's good and he wants to say that, but the words sound like they're too much even in his head. He's worried about putting too much pressure on Spencer, about scaring him off, but then Spencer is cupping his face and kissing him and saying he saved him. And he's not worried anymore.

"Of course I came for you," he breathes, afraid to speak any louder, afraid to disrupt this moment. "When I was there, when I was... I would have killed him if not for you. That's why I've kept to myself, that's why I haven't made friends, why I've never let myself get close to anyone. He hurt you and I would have killed him, but all you had to do was tell me not to." He shakes his head a little, his hand coming up to brush his fingers over the hand Spencer has against his cheek. His shoulders lift in a shrug, because he truly doesn't know how to explain just how significant that is. How startled he was to discover that all Spencer had to do was ask him to stop.

He lets out a deep breath, then presses up slightly to kiss Spencer again, his eyes closed. Having told him the story doesn't necessarily feel better, but it feels right. It's the right thing to have done. It's the one thing he's kept from everyone since it happened, even his sister, and now Spencer knows and he's still here. Joel has no idea how to tell him how much that means, so he only tries for a smile, then moves his hand to Spencer's face, his thumb brushing his cheek.

"I owe you, too," he says and it's the simple truth. He could have disappeared that night, he thinks, he could have found something dark and he could have run with it. But he hadn't and he knows there's only one reason he's still here to have this conversation at all. "It's... it's big. That you could pull me back so easily."

[doublethepain]

It's a lot to take in, at least he thinks it would be from anyone else. As far as he knows, he's never been that for anyone before; he's never been able to pull someone back from a place they maybe shouldn't be, and he remembers with perfect clarity pleading with Joel to stop before he could end Mark's life. He hadn't realized it then, that he'd been the reason, hadn't even spared much thought on it after Mark had fallen unconscious; but hearing it from Joel now, knowing that just a few words had stopped Joel from crossing that line? It makes him feel even more sure that what they have between them is worth every hardship they've faced so far. Joel is worth the broken fingers, the stitches, the bruises; Joel is worth the fear; Joel is worth all of it.

His bottom lip quivers, not from panic or anxiety or thoughts of what had happened, but becomes he's suddenly so overwhelmed by these feelings nobody has ever made him feel before. He takes Joel's uninjured hand in his own, bringing it to rest over his chest so Joel can feel his heartbeat. "It's steady," he says, and it's true. His mind isn't racing a mile a minute anymore, his heart isn't pounding; he's focused on the man beside him in his bed. "You're the first person in a long time who's been able to make me feel like-- like maybe things are going to be okay. You do this for me. And if I can do it for you, I'm happy to be given the chance."

It's been about a month. Their first kisses, the kind that aren't kickstarted by fear or pain, have only just happened tonight, but Spencer simply can't deny the connection between them. It's been growing stronger since that evening i the library, though Spencer couldn't have imagined then that anything would have come of it. A distant friendship, at best, is what he would have expected because he's never been good at anything else. He's fallen into this so easily, though, as if they've been at this or so much longer and he doesn't want it to end.

He closes his eyes at the feel of Joel's thumb against his cheek and smiles softly. "Don't leave," he says, echoing what he'd told Joel on Friday night. It's said for a better reason this time, though, and Spencer shifts so he can lie down on his back again, nuzzling his cheek against Joel's chest. "You still owe me more of The Once and Future King."

[just_another]

He's left the books downstairs, but Joel's fairly certain he couldn't take his hands off Spencer to hold a book anyway. This is something he's never had before. The time he and Amy had been able to spend alone had been like it often is with teenagers; quiet, awkward and rushed, fumbling hands and the conviction they'd be caught at any moment, Joel's parents or his sister walking in. The two people who had come after her hadn't been like this either. They'd both only wanted one thing from Joel, it had only been about the physical and it hadn't taken him long to realize how little he liked that, how much more he needed from a person and by then it had just seemed easier to avoid it entirely. He's never had someone in his arms like this, he's never been so comfortable, so relaxed, so content to just hold someone against his chest and he smiles down at Spencer.

He doesn't have to be asked to not leave, he realizes. The moment Spencer says it, Joel knows he'll only leave when Spencer tells him to, that if he never asks him to go anywhere, he'll be right here. There's the store to run and his cat to care for, but he can do both those things and always come back here and he has to close his eyes for a moment, smiling up at the ceiling as he tries to remember more of the story. He'd memorized most of the first chapter as a kid, wanting his sister to enjoy it as much as he did, and he thinks he can pull up most of it in his memory now. He thinks he can do a lot of things for Spencer.

"Where did I stop?" he asks, trying to remember the ambulance ride, though he doesn't particularly want to. He tips his head to the side, his lips brushing over Spencer's hair as he speaks. "Somewhere around ... The governess had red hair and some mysterious wound from which she derived a lot of prestige by showing it to all the women of the castle, behind closed doors. It was believed to be where she sat down, and to have been caused by sitting on some armour at a picnic by mistake. Eventually she offered to show it to Sir Ector, who was Kay's father, had hysterics and was sent away. They found out afterwards that she had been in a lunatic hospital for three years." He doesn't know how far he'll get before Spencer falls asleep, but he's perfectly content to lie here all night reciting the parts of the book he can remember.