Spencer Waters-Baker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doublethepain) wrote2015-05-23 06:11 pm
doublethepain) wrote2015-05-23 06:11 pm
Entry tags:
when the going gets tough [open]
He hasn't slept, not really.
Trapped in the warehouse, Spencer had done little else but find an escape within his dreams in between Roman's abuse of him and Davin, and he wishes he could have been a better friend, a stronger friend, one who would force himself to stay awake just so Davin wouldn't have to face a moment of their captivity alone; but he'd failed in that, and he feels so guilty for it that when he spends any time at all thinking on the subject, his stomach turns as hard as it had every time Roman had walked through the door again.
Joel hasn't left his side since they'd been found, ever the compassionate, patient, and caring husband that Spencer loves so much. But it's been four days and the store can't run itself, no matter how many times Joel insists that Spencer's comfort is more important, so he'd made his husband promise to at least check on Crossroads to make sure everything has remained as it should be in the time it's been closed. It'd been with reluctance that Joel had agreed, and Spencer doesn't know why he'd been so adamant about it when really, he never wants to spend another second away from Joel again; but he supposes he'd wanted to feel like he can spend half an hour on his own, he'd wanted to prove to himself that he's not so thoroughly damaged.
Twenty minutes in, he's finding that he's quite wrong. He'd tried to fall asleep--tried--but every time he closes his eyes, he feels the swing of the bat against his shoulder or his ribs or his back. He feels the bat in his hands, remembers the crack of it against Roman's head and sometimes, he's the one holding it when it comes down on Davin's hand. Trying to fall asleep has led only to stress and tears and an anxiety he can't shake without his husband's arms around him, gentle hands soothing him as he's reasssured that he's safe, Davin's safe, that everything had worked out in the end. When his eyes open again this time, he's curled up on the sofa with Huxley at his feet, and he can't quite remember how he'd gotten there but all of a sudden, it seems like an excellent idea to leave the house. Just for a little bit, he thinks, a quick walk around the neighborhood for some fresh air.
He still looks like a mess, the bruises over his eye and jaw a stark contrast from the fairness of his skin, and he's still walking with a slight limp from the pain in his ribs but at the very least, the potions have been helping. His shoulder feels much better now, thanks to what Joel's been giving him, and the more minor cuts and bruises have already healed because Coop had been kind enough to offer his help. In any case, there's no fixing his appearance right now so he clips the leash to Huxley's collar and sends a text to his husband that he's taking the dog out for a bit, just so Joel won't come back to an alarmingly empty house.
It's warm out today, and Spencer appreciates the heat of the sun's rays beating down on him after days of being held in a watery room, clothes constantly damp. He'd thought, at first, that he might have caught a chill from it but a couple days of fever had only left him feeling slightly weaker than he'd already been. He's better on that front now, which he supposes is a good thing, but halfway down the block, Spencer slows to a stop so he can let his head tilt back to enjoy that warmth he'd missed so much.
Trapped in the warehouse, Spencer had done little else but find an escape within his dreams in between Roman's abuse of him and Davin, and he wishes he could have been a better friend, a stronger friend, one who would force himself to stay awake just so Davin wouldn't have to face a moment of their captivity alone; but he'd failed in that, and he feels so guilty for it that when he spends any time at all thinking on the subject, his stomach turns as hard as it had every time Roman had walked through the door again.
Joel hasn't left his side since they'd been found, ever the compassionate, patient, and caring husband that Spencer loves so much. But it's been four days and the store can't run itself, no matter how many times Joel insists that Spencer's comfort is more important, so he'd made his husband promise to at least check on Crossroads to make sure everything has remained as it should be in the time it's been closed. It'd been with reluctance that Joel had agreed, and Spencer doesn't know why he'd been so adamant about it when really, he never wants to spend another second away from Joel again; but he supposes he'd wanted to feel like he can spend half an hour on his own, he'd wanted to prove to himself that he's not so thoroughly damaged.
Twenty minutes in, he's finding that he's quite wrong. He'd tried to fall asleep--tried--but every time he closes his eyes, he feels the swing of the bat against his shoulder or his ribs or his back. He feels the bat in his hands, remembers the crack of it against Roman's head and sometimes, he's the one holding it when it comes down on Davin's hand. Trying to fall asleep has led only to stress and tears and an anxiety he can't shake without his husband's arms around him, gentle hands soothing him as he's reasssured that he's safe, Davin's safe, that everything had worked out in the end. When his eyes open again this time, he's curled up on the sofa with Huxley at his feet, and he can't quite remember how he'd gotten there but all of a sudden, it seems like an excellent idea to leave the house. Just for a little bit, he thinks, a quick walk around the neighborhood for some fresh air.
He still looks like a mess, the bruises over his eye and jaw a stark contrast from the fairness of his skin, and he's still walking with a slight limp from the pain in his ribs but at the very least, the potions have been helping. His shoulder feels much better now, thanks to what Joel's been giving him, and the more minor cuts and bruises have already healed because Coop had been kind enough to offer his help. In any case, there's no fixing his appearance right now so he clips the leash to Huxley's collar and sends a text to his husband that he's taking the dog out for a bit, just so Joel won't come back to an alarmingly empty house.
It's warm out today, and Spencer appreciates the heat of the sun's rays beating down on him after days of being held in a watery room, clothes constantly damp. He'd thought, at first, that he might have caught a chill from it but a couple days of fever had only left him feeling slightly weaker than he'd already been. He's better on that front now, which he supposes is a good thing, but halfway down the block, Spencer slows to a stop so he can let his head tilt back to enjoy that warmth he'd missed so much.