14th November, 2012. 12:17pm
"Ashley, baby can you move your feet for me please?" I watch as my blonde pushes the broom underneath the table my feet are resting on and move away the non-existent lint there.
She's constantly busy, cleaning, cooking, re-organising our CD collection and alphabetising our DVD rack, these days. I watch her do the same thing everyday, the same thing at every time, the same movements. It's been the same routine for over a month.
I move my feet from the coffee table and move away so she can brush the minimal amount of dirt to the side and then quickly wipe down the already polished surface. She's murmuring something under her breath about how she can't understand how people can live in filth, how she can't understand why something so simple as cleaning as you go can be so easily ignored. She blows a strand of hair out of her eyes and wipes the table harder, buffing it to within an inch of it's life.
"Why don't you sit down for a while, Spencer? The apartment looks nice." I say softly, nervous because I know how sensitive she can be these days. Doctors say it's some side effect of PTSD and is to be expected for a while; they said I shouldn't worry. But I do. Constantly.
"I can't sit right now, Ash. I still have to clean the windows and have you seen the ironing that needs doing? I should get it done now or I won't have time later, I don't want to do it tomorrow." She sounds irritated and I don't know if it's with me, or something else. She smiles a little and I don't think she's about to slam any doors any time soon; I won't be sleeping on the couch. It only happened once, to be honest, and I couldn't sleep. Neither could she. It had turned two in the morning when she shuffled in, adorable as always, and tugged at my hand to make me come back to the bedroom.
"I can help if you like?"
"No, don't be silly." She smiles again cutely and pats my shoulder. "I don't mind doing it all, it keeps me busy."
I blink once and try to bite back the comment that I can feel rising inside me. Because, damn it, I love her so much and I don't want to hurt her. She's been through enough already and she doesn't need me on her back. She just, she needs to face the truth.
"You're only keeping busy so you can avoid talking about..." I lick my lips, letting the comment hang between us, and wait for some scathing reply. When nothing comes I look up, finding her blue eyes staring at something outside of our window.
"No."
"Spencer..."
"No, Ashley. If you can't even say it and I don't want to talk about it, what's the use? It won't change anything. It's going to change nothing..." She sounds so depressed, so lost. And I can't help, why can't I help?
"Baby, I just think we need to -"
I'm cut off when she shakes her head and walks out of the living room without even a word, without a sound. I watch her go and close my eyes when the door leading to our bedroom clicks gently shut. Biting my lip I internally debate whether or not I should follow her. In the end I get up and make my way to the bedroom, knowing I would have done it anyway; because I can't let her cut me off now, I can't be pushed away after everything.
Opening the door I see her sat on the edge of the bed, shes kicking her feet and it's making a rhythmic noise on the bottom of the bed. Her eyes are downcast, looking at our carpeted floor; her fingers are picking at the comforter and she's pulling a long thread out, wrapping it around her finger.
"Spencer." I whisper her name, not wanting to startle her, or force her into leaving the room again. She nods once, letting me know she's heard me and I want to sigh in utter defeat when I hear her voice.
"She was my best friend, Ashley. Chelsea was my best friend and she did this to me." Her voice is croaky and I know that she's going to cry, but not because she's cried in front of me recently; that hasn't happened in a long time, but because I know all of her voices.
My stomach tightens painfully when she grips harder on the bed, her fingers turning white and I can the scar on her wrist. I let my eyes trail over her, she's gained weight since coming home like the hollow shell she was, but she's not back to her usual self. I've seen her in the bathroom, when she thinks she alone, on her tip-toes; looking in our mirror. I hear her silent sobs and my heart breaks each time her tears fall onto the counter top, because I know even if I walked in and called her beautiful she'd cover up and close me off.
She hates that she can still see her ribs, protruding out against her fragile skin.
She hates that she has all these little scars on her from where her flesh tore against the concrete floor.
She hates that I want to see them.
Because, fuck, I've hardly even hugged her since then. And don't get me wrong, I don't want to push her into anything; I know she gets scared if she feels out of control. But I need to touch her, need her to know I love her and she is wanted. I want her to know that she's not worthless, that she's worth anything...everything. I don't want to feel like this, I don't want to feel like I'm going crazy without her caress or her lips softly upon mine .
"I know, baby."
"No you don't!" Her head shoots up and I jump a little, my heart-rate picking up instantly out of protection for her and fear for her. For us. "Ashley, you don't know anything."
I'm stunned into silence and take a few more steps into the bright room, making sure to close to door behind me so it can just be us. Because I know for a fact her mother and her brothers and her father have a habit of coming in, of checking on us. I try to tell them, I can take care of her, I can look after her. Then they smile, tell me they know, but their eyes betray them and tell me that actually no, I can't look after her because I can't look after myself.
She glares at me for a moment, so I stop making my way towards her and wait for her to continue. For once, I'm not worried for her, but I'm worried for us; for me and her. Because she's never looked this lost, this vulnerable and angry all at once.
And it kills me I can't make it go away.
"She tied me up, Ash." I swallow hard, because she hasn't told me what happened to her yet. I don't know if I want to know. She can see it on my face and hesitates before continuing, but I let her know with a small nod that she needs to, we need to. "She tied me up in a room, on my own. I was alone and I was scared, bleeding...I was..." She stops and I hear the lump in her throat shift, causing tears to spring into her eyes. Those eyes that haven't been the same blue in a long, long time.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there..."
"No, Ashley, don't apologise. Don't feel bad, don't make this about you. Because I can't tell you it's alright, okay? I can't make you feel better about this."
"I didn't try to make th - " I'm shaking a little, "Spencer, I didn't mean it like that. What can I do for you? How can I help, baby?" I move more towards her and don't hesitate in kneeling in front of her, trying my hardest to ignore the flinch in her body. But how can I? The woman I love, the woman who loves me, doesn't even want my touch.
"Fix me," It's through a sob I hear those two words and it just sets me off, because I can't be strong anymore. I can't be that person when I don't know how to be. "Make me better. Make the dreams stop, Ashley." Her hands fly out and fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me close enough so I can feel her breathe but just an inch too far away. I gasp, half relieved, half shocked, but nonetheless I close my eyes for a moment and take it all in.
"I will," I nod, my voice but a whisper. "I will."
"You can't!" She cries, scaring me. "How can you?"
I watch hopelessly as tears roll down her cheeks, one right after the other. I want to stop it, I want to make her better and see her smile in her eyes again. Because she's so beautiful when she smiles, just so beautiful.
"I will, I'll make you better; I swear." I kiss her gently, revelling in it because our kisses are rare now. "Spencer, I'll stay awake at night so you're not alone. I'll spend the rest of my life picking up all those little pieces you think you've dropped and I'll replace them, okay? I will." Because if there's anything I'm certain of in this world, other than how much I love her, is how much I'll look after her. "I don't care how long it takes, Spencer, I love you."
"How can you -" She closes her eyes and I miss them instantly. "How can you love me when I'm like this?"
"Like what?"
"Broken!" She all but screams at me, pushing me back a little so we're not as close anymore. She breathes deeply and shakes her head, like I should understand. "Fucking hell Ashley, I'm not the Spencer you fell in love with am I? I've changed. I'm constantly angry at you, angry at myself, I can't have a conversation without instantly flashing back to that room! I'm a clean freak, I keep busy so I don't stop and think. I'm only at work when I want to be, I take anti-depressants that don't do a fucking thing and I can't even, I've lost sight of why you would even care anymore." She pauses and narrows her eyes a little, concentrating on something in her mind.
"I don't...I."
"I haven't touched you in over a month, Ash. And if I'm being honest, truly honest with myself, I don't know when we'll ever be able to. And don't tell me that doesn't matter, don't tell me you don't need it; because then I'll assume you don't need me. I can't kiss you without feeling vulnerable anymore but I don't want you out of my sight. I hate when you leave a room, because I'm alone, but I'm constantly feeling smothered when you're around me." She's started crying again and it's painful, so painful, for me to hear these things. I don't want it to be, but fuck, I'm only human.
"Spencer...Please."
"I'm not me anymore. I don't think I ever will be again and I don't want you to have to get used to it -"
"Shut up."
"Because you deserve so much, Ash." She licks her lips, not even sounding like she's heard my plea, and attempts a smile at me, a shaky one, a lost one. "You don't deserve something broken. You deserve, God, everything. Look at you, baby. Look what I've done to you." She points out the bags under my eyes, the weight I've lost, the loss of sparkle in my smile. "How can you love someone who breaks you too? You shouldn't be with them."
"Yes I should!" I cry out, because this isn't how it's supposed to go. She's supposed to get better and we're supposed to get married and have babies and a house on the beach. We're supposed to relive her horrible ordeal and then overcome her demons, holding each other. We're supposed to get stronger from this. Not lose it all now, not now.
"No."
"I deserve you, Spencer." I sob, needing her to hear my pain, hear just what this is doing to me. And that might be selfish of me, childish even; but she can't go. I've lost her twice before and it all but killed me. But I'm not losing her now, not again. If I did, it would destroy me.
"How can you say that? You're worth everything."
"You are everything!" And now I'm shouting, begging her to hear me. "Fuck, Spencer, I went through most of our relationship thinking how could I possibly deserve someone like you. I watched all these girls flirt with you and I'd wonder, I'd wonder if that was the night you were finally going to leave the girl who slept around for fun. And I'd understand if you would've done that, Spence. I would have. Because, look at you, you're so amazing and special. You're heart is so big and open and you're beautiful, you know? Inside and out. You're smart and funny and the world's worst cook," She smiles a little at that and I feel my heart repair, just a fraction. "You're sweet and caring and you have the most gorgeous eyes I've ever had the chance to see."
"Not anymore..." She murmurs, not flinching away when I grasp her hands, but not holding on just as tight either.
"Don't you understand? I can't fall out of love with you, I just can't. Because even when you're cooking me burnt lasagna and even when you roll away from me in the night, you're my everything." I shrug and move closer still, so my knees touch the bed she's sitting on. And I don't care that they hurt and I don't care that my back shouldn't bend this way just to look at her; because this is the closest I've been to her in a long time and I need this.
"It wasn't burnt; you distracted me." She whispers through a smile. I smile back before turning serious again, knowing she needs fixing before we can fix us.
"You've been through so much, Spencer, so much. And I can't even understand, I can't even begin to know what you felt, but I can help. I will help. We'll go away, okay? We'll get away from LA and all of this shit. Me and you, yeah?"
She nods a little and I'm starting to feel a little better now; because now I might not lose her, I might not have to watch her go.
I'll fix her.
I'll make her better.
---
1st November, 2012. 10:35pm
"Daniels," A guard shouted through to the young girl who was busy reading. "You have a visitor." He stared at her, wondering how the hell a young girl, such a sweet looking one at that, could have done everything that her file suggested. He hadn't been a prison officer long, only a few years, but he'd already seen many women come and go. But not too many matched up to the cool exterior Chelsea Daniels gave out. She didn't seem fazed at anything.
Walking towards him, Chelsea went about the usual procedure, her hands outright in front of her as the male cuffed her. She winced a little but he showed no empathy, instead he simply gave her a small nod in the direction she was to walk and she obeyed.
"Five minutes." He told her, opening the door to the visiting area. While everyone else had family members or partners to visit them, Chelsea was alone; so for the first time in a long time she felt vunerable as she stumbled into a room full of people who hated her and their strangers.
She smirked a little, already having guessed who her visitor was, and loved that she was right.
"Ashley," She drawled, slowly sitting down in the uncomfortable chair. She pulled a little at the cuffs and enjoyed for a brief moment the stinging pain that came along with it. "How nice of you to come and see me. I don't get many visitors."
"She knows you did it." The brunette spat at her, disgust flaring in her eyes. "We all know it was you."
"What do you want, Sherlock? A medal." With her restrained hands, she pretended to pat down her legs. "Sorry. Fresh out." She leant back a little in her seat and ignored the eye-rolls around her. She wasn't well liked out of prison, so what did it matter she was hated inside it too?
"Why did you do it?" Ashley ignored the snide remarks of the older girl, instead just wanting to hear everything else. Spencer was sleeping, still, after a restless night and Ashley, hyped up on angry energy, booked an appointment with the prison the same day.
"Give out all my medals or..."
"Take her from me!" If it hadn't been for the glass in front of them, both girls were pretty sure Ashley would have lunged for the dark woman.
"I didn't take her from you." Chelsea replied slowly, loving how worked up the woman was getting, and she crossed her ankles. "I just, got her out of my life." She sucked on her teeth for a moment before reconsidering her last statement. "No, sorry, I made my life that much better."
"Yeah, looks it."
"You know what, Ashley, you think you're everything. You're just like her. Well, fuck you, okay? Spencer isn't the fucking pretty girl she makes out to be. She cheats and she lies." A dark look crossed her face and she smirked. "At least, that's what Carmen told me."
"What?"
"You know, you used to always go on about how Spencer was the one for you. But were you the one for her? I mean, do you honestly believe she was thinking of you when Carmen was putting her hands all over her?"
Using her knowledge of how forward Carmen's flirting could be, Chelsea started her mind games on the vunerable brunette. She wasn't lying when she said Carmen was all over the blonde, it happened most days, but only she knew Spencer pushed her away.
"You're lying."
"Believe what you want. But Ashley, I could have done you a massive favour getting rid of her. I mean, do you really want someone like that in your life? Someone so toxic?" She licked her lips and watched the cogs turn.
"This was a waste of my time." Ashley stood up, knowing Chelsea was just trying to get under her skin. But it was too soon after having Spencer home to hear such things.
"She's a waste of yours." Chelsea grinned and scooted her chair back a little. "Get rid of her. Or, you know, wait twenty years or so and I'll do it for you again."
This time the glass barrier didn't seem to faze Ashley as she slammed up against it, scaring Chelsea and gaining several people's attention. The brunette could feel a guard behind her but she kept her eyes trained on the dark girl.
"If you come near Spencer again, if you say anything about her, think about her - I swear to God, no, I promise you now; I will fucking kill you." Her voice was a low growl and she felt herself being tugged back, but she grabbed the table; keeping herself close to Chelsea. "I will come in here and I will destroy you, do you understand me? Hurting her, taking her from me, you've only opened the door. I swear, if you even look near her I won't rest until I see you six feet under."
"Cute Rambo, but you don't scare me." The waver in her voice suggested different.
"This isn't to scare you, Chelsea. It's a promise, a vow. So listen closely, because I don't intend on breaking this; stay away from her, from me. Rot in hell for all I care, okay?"
With one final tug, Ashley was pulled away and escorted to the exit doors. Chelsea raised her chin and watched the young girl go, not blinking until their silhouettes were safely outside the door and she could no longer hear their voices. She looked around, seeing the amused smiles on her fellow inmates faces and she swallowed hard.
Ashley would pay for that.
---
23rd December, 2012. 17:05pm.
I watch her as she sits in my childhood garden, catching the snowflakes on her tongue with my four year old cousin. She looks adorable, running through the snow and laughing loudly when the small girls hits her with a well aimed snowball. Her curls are bouncing beneath the beanie hat she just had to buy and that smile, her smile, is so genuine that it gives me hope.
Hope I'll get better.
Hope we'll be doing this again next Christmas.
"Spencer? Would Ashley like some hot chocolate?" I turn around and look at my mom. I've done this to them, aged them. I didn't mean to but they worry so much. If I could have just told them I was okay, they would have been alright.
"Yeah, she hasn't tasted it yet."
We decided to spend Christmas here in Ohio, together as a couple. My grandparents weren't too supportive at first but they've come around, they invited us before they even invited my parents. I think after everything we've been through, I've been through, something as fickle as sexuality dosen't seem to matter.
"And you, would you like some?" She teases, knowing I never say no to my Grandmothers cocoa.
"Obviously. And I want it in my cup, not Glens." I faux-frown, remember when I was thirteen and Glen was ill. He got my slightly larger up and I was stuck with his Superman one. I didn't talk to anyone for three days.
"I know." She kisses the top of my head and squeezes me tight. "I love you, honey." She whispers, before kissing my crown again and making her way back into the kitchen.
I watch her go, smiling a little, knowing I might have not had this. I sigh, not wanting to go there. My counceller says it's good to relive, but not on my own, that could be dangerous. But I'm doing better now.
Me and Ash went on holiday and I told her everything there, everything I went through. She cried and I cried and then we moved forward with our lives.
"Clare, c'mon in now honey." I hear my aunt shout out the window. "It's nearly time for dinner."
The matching pouts of my brunette girlfriend and my red-headed cousin are just too adorable to bear. For a Californian native, Ashley sure has taken well to this Ohian winter. Of course, she does have four layers on under that designer leather jacket. Together they trudge towards the backdoor, muttering about how they've only just gotten to go outside. And it makes me wonder, as Ashley helps remove Clare's coat, how she would be with our children.
You know, in the future.
Because, even though it's been so long, we're still not that close yet.
I'm getting better now, I let her hold me at night and we kiss. But I still don't like the idea of not being in control, of letting someone else take me over and let me let go. And she's so patient with it, so caring and sweet.
But I can see in her eyes, when we're both topless and panting into each others mouths, the dissapointment when I pull away. But she just smiles, kisses me lightly and pulls me close to her to let me know it's okay and that she'll wait.
"I can't believe you grew up here, Spence!" My girl gasps, taking off her beanie and shaking her curls. "How did you not have permenant frostbite?"
"It's not that cold." I assure her, removing one of her many jackets for her.
"Warm me up?" She smiles, opening her arms and waiting for my inevitable reply. I scoot forward and let her wrap me up, even though I should be keeping her warm, throwing my arms around her neck and pulling me close.
"Better?" I ask, kissing the soft skin on her neck. I hear a small gasp, probably because we're in full view of the family room, and notice the smile in her voice.
"Very much so."
I pull back and look at her, just really look at her. Like how she looks healthier these days, more happy and content with our lives. But I can still see the worry clouding over her when I'm quiet and in a way thats a good thing, cause I know that she knows I'll never be over it
.
And I won't.
But I can move on, we can move on and just be together. Without all those bad dreams and all those screams I hear in the night. Without the fear that when she holds me from behind that I'm about to pass out and wake up in a strange place.
"I love you." She whispers, her eyes still as beautiful as ever.
"I love you." I reply, meaning it more than I ever have.
And I just look at her.