Disclaimer: As always, South isn't mine.

Author's Note: This chapter time jumps past Spencer's first weekend at Haven House to the following Tuesday of Week 2. The weekend was majorly uneventful, mainly spent sleeping, exiling herself in her room to unpack in the slowest way possible. That is, until Julia caught on and politely forced her to mingle with everyone in a very twisted version of Cards Against Humanity (she didn't think it was possible) she'd rather not talk about ever.


Chapter Four: Regrets

Spencer walks into her room, and presses her back against her door.

I'm unimpressed; think it's best
if we give it a rest
I'm so tired. I can't stand for fear I will land on my ass

She'd just gotten through with an hour session with Julia in her office. Between the group sessions two days a week, and the one-on-one sessions with her which were hugely different from what she'd experienced from her observed group sessions. It may have only been week 2 of her two month stay, but it felt like a month had already passed in this place. It was rough already, being there. Being the therapist she was, Julia didn't shy away from getting to the root of her depression, numbness—everything. Spencer even told her about her mother's religious craziness, and the fears that followed, something she'd only ever conveyed to Robin. And now she was feeling that feeling after you tell someone a big secret, half-relieved, half-regretting you'd even opened your mouth. Honestly, the whole ordeal left her emotionally drained, and a little annoyed.

Let time pass, this can't last,
cause I'm just barely getting by

Luckily, the growling in her stomach distracted her for the time being. Mouth watering, she eyes the lighted numbers on the clock. 6:23 P.M. Lunch would be served very soon. She turns and opens the door, leaving the room. And that's when she heard it. Music—someone was playing a guitar.

Spencer's steps slow right in front of Ashley and Kyla's door, realizing that whoever was playing was inside the room. Though she only just learned that Ashley was vocally inclined, something told her that she was also the one playing, not her younger sister. She smiles as the notes swirled closer, hitting her with much more intensity as she neared the door, all very calm, and very soothing. Immediately drawn in, she takes closer until she's at arm's length from the wood, but just as her foot lowers down, she's surprised to find it landing on something bouncy. A second later, her leg's jerking forward away from the object, and smacking against the door with a loud thud. Slapping a hand over her mouth, Spencer takes a reactive jump backward, staggering, cursing inwardly. Holy mother of god that hurt! Shit, ow, fuck, ow, dammit.

That's when she hears footsteps shuffling from inside the room, toward the door, and Spencer's eyes widen. Shit! She quickly sprints off and down the hallway, ducking behind the bathroom door before she could be seen. She listens to the door open and close, then Ashley's brown head of hair walking past and down the stairs. Spencer breathes a sigh of relief, leaning around to see that the thing she'd nearly tripped over was a small, blue nerf ball. Begrudgingly, Spencer shakes it off, and heads downstairs too.

Give me a break with this heart ache
I doubt it will make it through till tomorrow
It's bogged down with sorrow and guilt and it's built,
On these stilts which wobble 5 feet and 3 inches high

Her feet hit the padded carpet of the main hall, eyes landing on the stain glass windows above the doors arched frame. Outside, a soft, velvet light was spreading out across the eastern hillsides sending a beautiful array of refracted colored light across the entrance. Spencer smiled to herself, remembering a time her and Robin had fallen asleep to the miniature stain glass ornament that hung down over the window seat in her room. In her mind's eye, she could see the lazy smile spreading across her soft, gorgeous features, the ghost warmth of an arm once draped over her waist.

"What are you looking at?"

Spencer jumps a little, but still smiles at the raven haired teen behind her. Who, surprisingly, donned jeans and a gray t-shirt. "Wow, you clean up well when you're not shirtless and wearing sweatpants."

"You know you love it," Aiden teases, again, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Carlin, I'm starving."

They came upon the mess hall, and Spencer seen that everyone was already there eating whatever Danny had cooked for them. Even two other males she had yet to meet, one sitting with Julia and Danny at the opposite end of the room, the other sitting with Clay. It wasn't what you'd expect a mess hall to look like, when really, it was only like five family dining rooms all crammed together, with six wooden tables, and the kitchen built in. They found their trays, and got some food from the numerous plates on the buffet table at the front. Although, Spencer noticed the food on Aiden's plate looked to be something not a usual teenage boy would eat, especially of his size. He'd chosen a tuna sandwich, salad, and an apple, oddly enough. Other than a blatant raised eyebrow, she let it go, and followed him to a table.

"Sean, my man!" Aiden yells, leaning over to pound fists with the guy sitting with Clay. "How'd the scan go?"

"Great actually, the doctor has high hopes," Sean answered. "I'm signed up for another appointment next week. They might put me on a new medication, and if that doesn't work, my parents are going to see about possible cognitive analytic therapy that could hopefully reduce my episodes. I'd be out a lot more though, along with the Doc, so you'd be left with the wonder twins."

"Shit, that sucks. Good luck though," Aiden groans, hand landing on Clay's tense shoulder. "Whatcha' reading Clay, a comic book?"

"A graphic novel," Clay said firmly, shrugging his touch away. "It helps me focus. Especially in cases when I'm tempted to break someone's neck."

"Roger that, bro," Aiden gives, leveling a civil grin. "Come on, there's an open table over there."

Spencer gives them both a shy wave, and shook Sean's hand, introducing herself, then quickly following. He walks ahead of her, over towards the empty table in question. Spencer falls in step behind him, eyes drifting up distractedly to a small, black design on the back of his neck. Curious, she squints, realizing it was a tattoo. Upon further inspection, she sees it, and her feet stop, rooting her in place. It was a scorpion tattoo.

"I'm dying, kid," Robin's muttering, eyes flickering frantically into the forebodingly white ceiling above her.
"Everything's all blurry. This is it, the light's almost here."

From her place beside the hospital bed, Spencer makes a clumsy attempt to roll her eyes. However, being that her hands were still shaking from the panic she'd endured during and after she'd driven Robin to the hospital. They'd gone to the lake to cool off, just laying there on the grass, and before they knew it, they started wrestling around. Robin had dove at her, but Spencer moved out of the way, sending her best friend into the bush behind her. After that, she remembered seeing Robin stumbling to her feet, the weird flash of brown on her shoulder. She remembered stopping, focusing, until she realized what it was. Evidently, neither of them weren't quick enough, because the next thing she heard was Robin's high pitched scream, her arms swatting away the small creature. She looks down at the scampering scorpion, then herself, sees a spot of blood through her shirt, and wide, hazel eyes are snapping up. Spencer didn't get half a step before Robin's eyes rolled back, her lanky body slumping down against the sand.

"That's the drugs, dumbass," Spencer replies, scooting the chair closer. "You're not dying."

"I hate scorpions, I fucking hate em'," her best friend rambles on anyway, clutching the bandage on her collar bone. Felt the wound pulsating sickly, and paled, blood pounding in her ears. Moans lowly against the pain. "Who the hell gets stung by a scorpion in Ohio! Son of a bitch, Carlin, make it stop. Oh, god, I can read the gravestone now. 'Finally answered: 'What's the worst that could happen?'"

"Robin Paloma MacKenna, shut up," Spencer demanded, grabbing onto the girl's shaking hands. Squeezing them. "If the pain's worse, the anti venom is working, okay? Just gotta wait it out, Robby, and calm down for me. The sedatives should be kicking in any minute now."

Spencer waits then, impatiently, as the next few minutes dragged on, and Robin's murmurs slowly dissipated as expected. Taking the girl's face in her hands, Spencer looks into Robin's dilated eyes as she blinked up at her through her slowly dissolving hysteria. Then she's smiling, a dopey, adorable smile that warms her from head to toe in relief. Spencer giggled, feeling her worry slowly slipping away as she stared down at her best friend fondly. Minutes later, Robin's teetering on the edge of asleep, fingers still loosely entangled in hers over the bed's railing. However, much to Spencer's surprise, she's still lucid enough to demand that she climb up on the bed with her. After much debate, the blonde's sighing in defeat, and carefully slipping onto the bed. Shifting onto her side, Spencer propped herself up by her elbow, she notices that Robin was beginning to sober up. Eyes blinking lazily, Robin turns her head against the sheets, staring back at her, innocent, knowing, smirking, eyes longing, wide-spaced. Nudges closer.

"Be with me," she whispers. "Be my girlfriend, Spence."

It takes her a minute to fully process Robin's spontaneous confession, before Spencer's finally breathes. Over the past few weeks since they'd made their feelings known to each other, the two had tiptoed around the inevitable, blocked by obvious obstacles on Spencer's part. She had told Robin, many times, that even if they'd get together, she could never tell her family, at least not until she was out of school. Over a year from then. They would have to hide, never being able to kiss in public or at school, something she knew Robin would be against. A year would be an awfully long time, and she wasn't naive to the fact that her mother would set Spencer up on many dates, without any protests from her daughter. Instead of arguing any further, her best friend had only shaken her head, and walked her home.

Spencer sighs. "Robin...we're in a hospital."

Robin's fingers trace her arm, collarbone, daringly. "Gathered that."

"You're on pain killers."

"Definitely, true." She smiled, lips parted. Promising.

"I just don't want you saying things you don't mean, that you'll regret once the medicine wears off," Spencer argues, hands on her chest, stopping her from inching any closer. But the way Robin's lower half arched against hers, and the quick hot rush in her veins was making it hard to do so. "You may be on board now, but you'll hate it, the hiding, I know you will. Then we'd start fighting and avoiding each other, and break up, and regret ever ruining..."

Robin has both hands on her cheeks, leading Spencer's lips to hers, silencing the flustered blonde. Counting the one they'd shared a few weeks ago, this was their second kiss, and Spencer still found herself completely addicted, unable to unglue her lips from Robin's. She's tugging at her waist, gently, breathing into it, loving the warmth it made her feel, the rise of flesh all over her. So, they lay for a moment more in the dark hospital room, their mouths moving familiarly through the steps, moving this way, then that, warm, soft, then pressing, releasing.

"I can't do this anymore, this fucking in-between we're in," Robin's murmuring, pulling away. Her voice was controlled, eyes steady on hers. "You and me, we're solid, kid—and I believe in that, I do. I believe that we can make it, through whatever we have to until graduation. That's only a year away. I can go a year. What I can't do is go a year without knowing you're mine. No one else's. Then it'll be worth it, all of it. Just bet your cute ass I'm going to take advantage of every second of alone time I have with you." She takes a breath, eyeing the girl next to her seriously. "So, what do you say, Spence? Is it worth it for you?"

Spencer bites her lip, thoughtfully, absorbing her words. Weighing them. Before she's leaning to press their lips together chastely.
"Girlfriend," she whispers, half-smiling. "I like the sound of that."

"Spencer?"

Shaking the memory away, Spencer blinks, seeing Aiden's hand waving in front of her face.
"Huh?—Oh, uhm, sorry about that."

She presses her fingers to her temple willing away any more annoying surprise memories of her dead girlfriend for the time being. Her eyes searched around her briefly, seeing if she'd made too much of a scene, and found only one person currently staring at her. Two tables away, near the window, Ashley was sitting next to her sister, looking her way, and clearly concerned. There were dark smudges under her eyes, the frayed edges of somebody who hasn't slept in awhile, which makes her feel a twinge of concern as well. But the second Spencer's eyes meet hers; she's looking away, continuing to pick at her untouched tray of food. Spencer's eyes linger on the brunette's face, lost in thought. Well. That was weird.

"It's cool," Aiden amends, bringing her attention back to him. "Unless you do that a lot, which could be a problem if I'm ever in a car with you."

"No, no, I don't, I swear," She rambled, as they settled down at the table. "You're tattoo reminded me of something, is all."

"Got it about a year ago," Aiden supplied hesitantly, sipping his coke, the only normal thing he'd chose for lunch. "Scorpions are among the few creatures truly feared, with everyone. That's something I wanted, along with all the vanity shit. I'm a Scorpio too, so, it kind of fit."

"So, what's...wrong with you?" Spencer asks, after a long moment of debate. "I mean, why are you here?"

"It's a long story, Spence," he answered, evasively, smile fading. "You sure you wanna know?"

"If you want to tell me, I do," She says, back peddling the obviously sensitive question. "How about this? If you tell me why you're here, I'll answer any question you've got."

You ask me why I'm this way and all I can say is,
I've gone through my fair share of shit,
And you want all I've got, so we'll give it a shot
I just hope you don't regret it

After a minute, Aiden nods, leaning back in his chair.

"Five months ago, I was put in the hospital," He begins, tone anxious. "When I was younger, I was chubby and got my ass kicked almost every day for it. I wanted to have abs, get all the pretty girls, and just fit in for once, you know? One night, one of those stupid bo-flex infomercials came on. I took one look at those guys, and something snapped—something bad, and cold. I thought about starving myself, something effective, if I set my mind to it. I couldn't be weak. The next day, I used my allowance to buy a scale, and hid it where my mother couldn't find it. I weighed myself every night, as well as a constant 300 sit-ups, making a chart so I could write it down. In school, the numbers would always be in my head, like a mantra, something to keep me focused and determined. I clung to them, more than anything else. For months, I'd go days without eating anything more than half a dinner's plate, never getting close to finishing. And that mentality stuck with me until I'd become obsessed, always beating myself up if I'd strayed just a few ounces behind. God, I had really become a monster..."

Aiden sucks in a deep breath of air, looking heavenward. It was obviously digging at old wounds, asking him to do this, but Spencer knew by the determined look in his anguished eyes, that however uncomfortable it made him, Aiden would get past it. After another moment's pause, he did, opening his mouth to speak.

"By my junior year, I'd lost 100 pounds, and I remember being so proud of myself. So proud, that I was blind to the ribs sticking out of my chest, or the hip bones stabbing out from my skin, my sunken in face. I was a seventeen year old, six foot zombie, barely clocking in at 110, and I hated it. It was a few days before Christmas break, that I remember my sickness being at its worst. I hadn't eaten in four days, the longest I'd ever gone. You can guess I wasn't so surprised to hear when I awakened in the hospital that I'd collapsed in class. Severe malnourishment, they called it."

Leaning onto her elbows, Spencer asks, "How'd you end up here?"

"Two months into my recovery, I'd gotten a call from my uncle," He replied, slightly recovered from the solemnity of his story. "He said he'd heard about this program in the summer two towns away, with some tiny, Fairport hotshot therapist that could maybe help me, you know, mentally. Going through that, all those months, really fucks with your brain. It's like I was an alcoholic, you know? I couldn't do it on my own, I'd always be tempted. So, I continued with my scheduled sessions, and gained back a healthy amount of weight—enough to get the doctors off of my back. Otherwise, they'd put me in the hospital again. I'd arrived here a few weeks before summer, and started psychotherapy with Julia, and it's been great. I've got a scheduled, nutrient-filled meal I eat twice a day, along with my exercise that keeps me in great shape. I'm so grateful for what she's done for me, and I'm glad I came here."

Slightly open-mouthed, Spencer gapes at the now smiling teenager.
"Wow. And here I thought you were some Warren-Beatty-psycho-undercover-gay working for my dictator religious mother."

Aiden laughs, much too loudly, sending many eyes our way.
"Seriously? Damn, you are insane."

"Shut up," Spencer snapped, pinching her lips together to keep from laughing herself. "So, I believe you've earned yourself a question. Lay it on me."

He pretends to think for a moment. "Naw, I think I'll just save that one for a rainy day."

"You're so mean," She gasps, mock glaring. Then, as if the girl was a damn magnet, blue eyes settled on Ashley's table once more minutes later. Spencer taps Aiden's shoulder with her fork, getting his attention away from his tuna sandwich. "Hey, what's her story? Why's she here?"

"Who, Ashley?" Aiden glances over his shoulder, before giving her a strange look. "I think you'd have to ask her that yourself, little Spence."

"Probably not gonna happen, Aid. It's just—something about her," She sighs, utterly confused as to why she even cared to know more about the girl. "Aside from the copious staring, she's...very intriguing."

"And hot," Aiden adds, smiling deviously. "You know, in a Ginger Snaps kind of way."

Responding only with an eye roll, Spencer lets her focus drift onto Ashley again. There was a dark, far-off look in her eyes, a kind of sadness, as if she were troubled by something underneath the surface. Before she can question the possible reasons for it any longer, the brunette's face took on a sudden new composure, almost serene, the fuzzy mocha eyes narrowing into a tight, intelligent focus. Then, her eyes are on Spencer, staring straight into them, as if she'd sensed eyes on her. Spencer barely registers her fork clanking on her plate, too encompassed in her little stare down to notice both Aiden and Kyla glancing between them in confusion.

Much to her astonishment, a small, amused grin struck Ashley's lips then. Taken aback, Spencer sits back in her seat, folding her arms challengingly. She had to admit, she found their staring exchanges kind of thrilling, fascinating, a lively change of the cold water shower as of late. She didn't want to face what that meant, but, there was one thing she knew for sure: This, was definitely going to end badly.

You ask me why I'm this way and all I can say is,
I've got nothing to hide behind
No excuses to confuse this
Guess everyone loses, but it's better than living a lie


R&R.