Spencer sat on his couch, staring at the television, despite not actually paying any attention to it. He was coming off his high and throwing a temper-tantrum. Emily had taken away his cell phone and was currently in the kitchen disposing of all the bottles of Dilaudid she had found.
"I'm bored," he called out.
"So, find something to do. Read a book, watch a movie, draw something," she hollered back.
"I don't want to."
"Then stop complaining."
"At least, when Kelsey was here we'd have sex," he pouted.
"Well, good for you and Kelsey. You and Emily aren't," she said as she walked into the room.
"It wasn't a request," he said snidely.
"Why don't you take a shower. You smell like a barn," she said as she moved around the room, straightening things up.
"Wow, and you're single. Go figure," he replied.
"You can keep throwing insults at me, but it's not going to make any difference. Go take a shower and I'll get your bed ready for you. You'll want to get as much rest now as you can. The next week is going to kick your ass," she said.
"Quit touching my things," he said as he watched her put books back on his bookshelf.
"Will you stop trying to pick a fight with me," she said.
"No, it's fun and I want you as annoyed as I am."
"No need to work so hard to achieve that. You're already my least favorite person right now," she said as she stood in his bedroom doorway waiting for him.
He finally relented, standing up with an exaggerated and over-dramatic sigh. He trudged across the room and went straight toward the bathroom.
"Aren't you afraid I'll use in there or you gonna come wash me like last time?"
She looked at him with sadness in her eyes.
"You'll be fine," she said before turning her back on him.
She heard the door close behind her and the shower running. While she waited, she removed all the excess pillows from his bed and turned down his comforter. Then she placed a couple bottles of water and some crackers on his nightstand.
The door to the bathroom opened relatively quickly. She turned to see Spencer standing in just a towel around his waist. She schooled her expression, though her heart rate increased dramatically. She knew he was doing that to get a rise out of her.
"Ok, bed's all set for you. I'll be out on the couch if you need anything," she said.
"Thank you," he replied softly.
She looked to see him staring morosely at his bed. It was a glimpse of the Spencer she loved.
"You're welcome," she said as she started to walk out of the room.
"Emily."
She turned to see him looking at her like a kicked puppy.
"I'm sorry … for everything," he said.
"I know. Just get better and we'll deal with the rest later," she said with a half-smile.
She left Spencer to get some rest and settled herself on the couch. She knew she needed some rest as well. It was just the beginning of the long week ahead of them.
(xxxxx)
It was late the following evening when things started to go downhill. They spent most of the day watching Dr. Who marathons and dozing off and on. Spencer for the most part was restless, but his attitude toward her eased a bit.
Somewhere near dinner time, she noticed that he started to shiver, though sweat was present on his brow. He didn't say anything, but got up and wandered off to the bedroom. She quietly set off for the kitchen to make soup and sandwiches, while he rested.
When she brought him his dinner, he rolled over with a groan complaining he wasn't hungry. She placed it on his nightstand and left to go eat her own dinner. When she finished and went back to check on him, the dinner was left untouched and the blankets shook as he trembled underneath of them.
"Anything I can do?" she offered gently.
"No, just leave me alone," he said with no bite to his words.
The next day was much of the same, though he never left the bedroom except to use the bathroom. She checked in on him frequently, but never said a word. She knew there was nothing she could do or say at the moment that would ease his pain.
On the third evening, things had gone from bad to worse. Emily was on the couch reading when she heard rustling of the covers and the sound of someone running. She got up and reached his bedroom doorway, just as he retched in the bathroom.
It was one of the most painful sounding sicknesses she'd ever heard. She grabbed one of the towels off the nightstand and went into the bathroom to run it under the sink. She walked over to Spencer, who was collapsed half in the toilet, half out. Crouching down, she gently wiped the rag along his pale, sweaty skin.
He was shaking uncontrollably as she dabbed at his skin. Standing up, she grabbed the nearest towel and draped it over his body for some warmth.
"This is the worst of it. It'll all be down hill from here," she said softly as she rubbed his back soothingly.
"I feel like I'm dying," he whimpered. "I deserve to die."
"Don't say that. You don't deserve to die. You'll get through this and you'll be stronger because of it," Emily insisted.
"Oh, God," he moaned before emptying his stomach again.
This continued off and on for the next few hours. Once he felt sure there was nothing left to vomit, he allowed Emily to help him back to bed.
"I want you to take small sips of your water every 15-30 minutes," she said unscrewing the cap to the bottle.
Spencer nodded as he weakly snuggled into his covers. Emily stood up to leave, when Spencer's hand grabbed her wrist. She turned to see him watching her through heavy eyes.
"Stay with me, please. I know I don't deserve it, but I need you," he said helplessly.
Emily looked out toward the couch, before nodding reluctantly. She moved to the other side of the bed and laid on top of the comforter. Spencer turned toward her and held out his hand. She hesitantly placed her hand in his.
"Thank you," he said tenderly.
She nodded and gave him a small smile.
"Just get some rest."
It wasn't much longer before he had fallen asleep. His hand still holding tightly to hers as if he was afraid she would disappear if he let go.
(xxxxx)
The next two days dragged on with Spencer suffering lots of nausea, body aches, and cold sweats. Through it all, Emily remained by his side. Finally, late in the evening on the 5th day, while Emily was in the kitchen cooking scrambled eggs, she heard feet pitter-pattering behind her.
She turned to see Spencer, wrapped in a blanket, with his hair impossibly tangled and shooting in all directions, staring at her. His face was still pale, but his eyes had more life to them.
"Hey," she said with a small smile.
"Hey."
"You want some eggs?" she asked.
"Maybe just some toast," he replied softly.
"Did you drink some water?"
"Yes. Every 15-30 minutes like you said."
Emily scooped the eggs onto a plate before grabbing some toast out of the toaster.
"Butter?"
"A little."
Emily went about prepping his toast, while he lingered behind her. Once everything was ready, she ushered him to the couch, where they sat quietly eating.
"Can I ask you something?" he said softly.
"Sure."
"Um, how were … what did you …" he puzzled over how to ask the question.
"No one knows anything except Gideon. I mean, I imagine everyone has their suspicions, but he's the only one I know for a fact knows. He gave us the time off with no questions asked."
"Oh," he said disappointed.
"You know, we don't judge you for what happened, right? We don't look at you any less," she said as she placed her empty plate on the coffee table.
Spencer shrugged.
"We all make mistakes, Spence. What happened … I think anyone of us would've continued using too –"
"You wouldn't have."
Emily barked out a guffaw.
"You're kidding right? As if I'm not the poster child for bad decisions. You think I didn't get into some shit when I was a teenager? I was a spoiled-rotten ambassador's daughter. I was always acting out and crossing the line. Don't think I haven't been where you are before."
He looked at her in shock.
"You …"
She nodded. "Yeah. I got hooked on Mom's pain pills when I was 17. I did it to mask the pain of a terrible loss and to avoid dealing with the repercussions and guilt over my actions."
"Do you … can I ask, what it was?" he said as he peered through his bangs that flopped into his eyes.
"I got pregnant when I was 16. I was scared of what my family and friends would think of me, so my friend Matthew helped me get an abortion. The pain of knowing I had made a human being and then terminated its life was unbearable."
Tears filled her eyes as the memory of what she did resurfaced. Spencer watched her hands shake slightly as she tried to hold back her emotions.
"I sometimes wonder if my luck with guys has to do with what I did to that poor innocent baby. Like I don't deserve a good life because I took his or her life away before it even began," she said as her voice cracked.
She felt Spencer's hand on hers.
"Em, that's not true. You were a frightened, young girl. You did what you thought was best. No one can fault you for that," he said.
"Can't they? Cause I can't let it go. I think about it all the time. I wonder if it would've been a boy or a girl. Would it have been anything like me or more like the asshole I slept with? Would they be smart? Would they be athletic? What kind of person would they have grown into?
Maybe a part of me became an agent because I want to save lives and make up for the one I took. The light I squashed in only an instant. Spencer, how am I any different than a murderer?"
"Oh my God, Emily! No! Don't do that to yourself. Look, it's like you said with me and my Mom. We were given grown-up situations that as children we shouldn't have had to deal with. We can't hold that over ourselves. We did the best we could with what knowledge we have and it was all done in everyone's best interest," he said holding her hand tightly in his.
"Then why does it still hurt so badly?" she said wetly.
"Because we are good people. If we were anything like the terrible people we encounter, we wouldn't even shed a tear for our past. But we aren't like that Emily. You aren't like that. You are the most loving, strongest woman I know," he insisted.
Emily laughed as she wiped at her eyes.
"Ugh, I'm supposed to be helping you. Not the other way around," she huffed.
"It's kind of nice to switch things up for a change," he said with a smile.
"You didn't eat any of your toast. I worked hard on that buttering," she teased, trying to change the topic.
He lifted it up and took a small bite.
"Best toast I've ever eaten," he said making her grin.
"Wanna watch a movie?" she asked.
"Sure."
With that she grabbed the remote and browsed the list of movies. It felt like things were falling back into place finally. She just hoped it stayed this way.