Ashley stood in front of the glass double doors, feet rooted firmly in place as she peered nervously through into the interior. Glad that at least this place seemed somewhat inviting and lacked the usual coldness she had come to associate with hospitals of any kind. C'mon, Davies…just push open the stupid door. She shook her head, swaying slightly on her feet and wishing for nothing more than Spencer's presence. After Spencer had walked out, she felt as though the ground beneath her feet had opened up, dragging her beneath the Earth's surface, sealing her in the dampness of depression. Ashley was used to pushing people away by now, but seeing the look of utter sadness right before the blonde had turned away, right before she had given her up as a lost cause, tore into her being with a predatory efficiency.
"Spencer," the whispered name ripped itself from her throat, hollow and raw, and she pulled her arm back, throwing the nearly empty vodka bottle into the glass doors, watching as the glass shattered, falling apart like a shaken puzzle.
"Can…I help you?"
Ashley took a step back, preparing to run, before she caught sight of the kind expression on the woman's face, and found that her legs wouldn't obey, "I don't know, can you," she shot back, leaning in to view the nametag pinned on the woman's chest, "Cynthia?"
The woman crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling on the corner of her mouth, "it kind of depends on the problem."
"Oh, oh, I see," she stumbled forward, roughly wiping her hair from her face, "so you can't really help me. What the hell is up with people saying they're going to help you and then, then, just when you really need them, poof," she clapped her hands before throwing them drunkenly in the air, "they just disappear like some fucking wizard and you're stuck there, standing there, gaping like some fucking idiot, wondering—you know, wondering how you ended up standing there looking stupid…and then you're supposed—"
"Hel-lo," Cynthia snapped her fingers in front of the frazzled brunette's eyes, "I don't know if you realize this, but you're rambling."
"Are all black women this sassy?" Ashley clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes bugging out as she realized a moment too late what she had just said, "What I meant to say—"
"Forget it," her dark curls shook, as she laughed, "I've heard worse, believe me, and drunk little girls don't really bother me."
"I'm not," she stopped, head dropping as she shrugged a shoulder, "I am. Drunk," as she looked up into the grey eyes of the woman before her, she felt the hot burn of tears as they worked their way down her face, "Sorry," she ran a hand across her face, turning to walk away. God, can't I just keep it together for two minutes…
"It's okay," Cynthia stopped her with a soft, but firm grip, on her arm, "you obviously came here for a reason. Something you need help with?"
Her face twisted into a snarl as she become unexplainably angry, and snatched her arm away, "I don't need any help."
"You don't…so you're just standing outside, throwing bottles because you're so in control. You're not beyond help, but you've got to ask for it. That part's on you, it's your life, and it's your choice." The older woman shrugged, the lines around her mouth tightened as she began to turn away.
"I'm sick of everyone leaving me," Ashley stumbled forward, tripping over her feet, and falling to the ground with a hard thud, her hand reaching out to grab the hem of Cynthia's nursing scrubs, her chocolate eyes pleading, "I'm tired of hurting, and being alone…and…" she felt the other woman kneel, her grey eyes looking down on her with a mixture of comfort and kindness, "I…I'm pretty sure," she drew a deep breath, preparing to say something she couldn't have pictured saying even ten minutes ago, "I know I have a drinking problem. Can you help me?"
"Of course," she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a small smile on her face, "I was wondering if you were going to get there. You've come to the right place," Cynthia pulled Ashley to her feet, putting the smaller woman's arm around her shoulder in support, "let's get you checked in…?"
"Ashley…Davies."
"Alright, Ashley," she pushed open the door, the white light temporarily blinding her companion, "we're going to take care of you."
***
"Have you heard anything?" Brie placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder, brushing away some of the hair from her friend's face, feeling a tiny pang of guilt at being unable to do more.
"No. Nothing," Spencer replied, clicking on her inbox once again, hoping to see an e-mail from Ashley, anything to tell her how the dark haired girl was. I shouldn't have walked out…I shouldn't…
"I bet she's fine, you know?" Even as she said the words, Brie didn't exactly believe them, she raised a hand, scratching her head, "ten bucks says she'll come find you soon."
"It's been three days, and nothing," she stood from her chair, moving so quickly that it flew backward, clattering to the floor, "what if she's hurt? What if—"
"Stop," her roommate shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest, "if you think like that you're going to drive yourself bat shit crazy."
"I know…it's just…she's my friend and I'm worried. I can't think of a way to explain it. Ashley needs me," she ran a hand through her hair, trying to banish a hundred different things from her mind with little success, "she needs someone."
"Look Spencer, I get that you guys became good friends, but can you really be safe around her? She hit you."
"She didn't mean it," she quickly jumped to Ashley's defense, somewhat surprised to find herself defending her volatile friend in the face of something so unacceptable.
"Do you know how many people say that? They say the person didn't mean it, and do you know what happens?" Brie pushed her glasses up further, her hazel eyes darkening with intensity, "They do it again."
"Yeah, well, I kind of hit her back…" she mumbled, "twice."
"Spencer!" Her eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs, "how is that solving the problem?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, an impish grin briefly crossing her features before they reset back into what had been perpetual sadness, "I think I'm gonna go for a walk, or something." She shrugged into a blue hoodie she grabbed from the floor, glancing wistfully at the hat Ashley had given her the first night they hung out, and with a small sigh, grabbed it too, placing it on her head.
"Hey, Spencer?"
"Yeah?"
"It's going to be okay."
"Sure," she tried to smile, hoping it would reach her eyes, making it somewhat believable, before closing the door behind her.
***
"I don't want to do this anymore," Ashley lay on her side, teeth clenched against the bone wrenching pain that seemed to shoot from her spine, affecting every nerve in her body, "I don't. I don't…"
"It's going to be okay, I promise," Cynthia pulled the blanket up, tucking it beneath the shivering girl's chin, her grey eyes awash with sympathy, "you're doing great."
"H-how long will it hurt?"
She looked down, before meeting golden brown eyes dizzy with pain, briefly wondering if she should lie, dismissing the idea as soon as it crossed her mind, "You've been drinking pretty heavily for awhile…it's not going to be easy," Ashley closed her eyes at the news, her damp bangs clinging to her forehead as though she were fevered, "another four days…maybe longer?"
"I can't do that," she shook her head into the pillow, her face pale with the effort it took to keep from throwing up what little broth she had been able to get down earlier in the day. I'm falling apart…I can't handle this…her eyes slammed shut once again as a spasm rocked through her. Tears leaked through her closed eyes, sliding silently to the bed. What she felt now, it was as though her body was trying to split itself apart from the molecular level, rebelling against itself in a frenzied battle for sobriety. If I had known it would be like this, I never would have come…the instant the thought flashed through her mind, she saw her, knew it was all in her head, but smiled anyway. "Hey, Spencer," the blonde leaned against the far wall, watching, her sapphire eyes glowing with quiet pride.
"Ashley?" Cynthia had seen the brown eyes go far, become unfocused, and had grown worried. It could only mean the girl's drinking had been a lot worse than she and the doctors had originally thought. She placed a hand against her patient's cheek, pulling it back quickly, the burning skin searing her, "shit. Hey, I'm gonna go get some cool cloths, ok?" The girl continued to stare far off, the small smile on her lips growing, as she stood to leave.
"You came," Ashley reached out weakly, wanting the blonde to come closer, her hand clenching into a fist as the other girl continued to lean against the wall.
"I'm proud of you, Ash…"
"Get out of my fucking way," a man's voice could be heard out in the hallway, sounding slightly frantic and moving closer to her room.
"Jon?" she took her eyes from Spencer for a moment, as her friend burst through the door, rushing to her side, Brad and two security guards following closely behind, "what are you doing here?"
"You need to come with us," the smaller of the guards placed a hand, none too gently, on Brad's forearm, making to pull him back, before being stopped by a look of anger so stark it caused him to draw back, apprehension dawning on his features.
"Hey buddy," Jon grabbed her hand, "you should have told us where you were going. We would have come with you."
"Seriously," Brad knelt by the bed, shaking his head, "I swear you do more to cause me to panic than, well…um…you just had me worried is all. How're you holding up?"
"I feel like shit," her eyes flicked back to the wall where Spencer had been a moment before, her face falling when she saw the blonde had disappeared, "where'd she go?"
"Where'd who go?" Jon looked around, "there's nobody here but us…"
"Spencer, she was just…" her mouth clamped shut as she tried to force the waves of nausea rolling through her away, "Oh, God," her back arched, spasms shooting from her spine, pushing her to what she thought must be the brink of her sanity, "…this is too hard…"
Brad and Jon exchanged looks, the worry and fear mirrored in the other's face, "Do you," Brad placed a hand on the small of her back, hoping his presence might help her ride out the storm, maybe relieve just a little of the pain, "…Spencer, do you want us to bring her to see you? Would that help?"
"No," her hair fell over her face, her teeth grinding together, "I don't want her to see me this way…just…tell her I'm okay. Please?"
"Sure thing, we'll come back to visit, okay?"
"Don't…I'll find you when I'm done."
"But—"
"Please." Her golden eyes sought out his, begging him not to watch her this way, "I promise I'll find you guys, but I've got to do this."
"Okay," Brad stood, his pale eyes haunted at being unable to help his friend, praying to whatever may be listening that she'd make it through, "we love you, Ash…and we're here if you need us."
Jon placed a kiss on her forehead, "Don't you dare tell anyone what a mushball I am," his eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled down at her, "I'm proud of you…"
"You're actually gonna make me sick, you know that?" She waved them away, her eyes closing as she drew a deep breath, ready to fight for herself, for her friends…for Spencer…
