Anthea struggled to unlock her front door, balancing the briefcase, extra bag of books and bags of food in her arms as she tried insert the key into the lock. It took longer than it should have, and when she finally got the door open she was surprised to find Spencer standing in the hallway, crutches under his arms.
"Why'd you get up?" she demanded.
"I could hear you cursing from the bedroom," said Spencer wryly. Anthea sniffed out a laugh and dropped the bag of books by the door, shutting it with her hip and hurrying to place the food in the kitchen. Spencer followed her a few seconds later, taking her briefcase from her hand and allowing her to work more freely.
Anthea smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Spencer shrugged one shoulder. "How was your day?"
"Long," Anthea began to pull out plates and cutlery automatically, quickly running through the things she had to do in her head. It was almost a reflex now, to avoid conversations with Spencer by pretending she had a million other things to do. And she did, usually, but they had both always been very good at switching off from work when they were together at home. Now, she found herself regressing back into the habit: he was desperately uncomfortable around her, and she was at a loss to fix it. Every time she saw him in pain, her heart ached. But every time she remembered their conversation from that night, and everything he had hidden from her, her heart almost broke.
Anthea had almost finished setting the table when she suddenly realised that Spencer was still standing in front of her. She had fully expected him to leave after she was done talking; the past couple of weeks had all been the same. She wanted him to try and make an effort to mend things on his own, but Spencer had always needed her not-so-subtle pushes in the right direction when it came to their relationship. Except this time, Anthea genuinely didn't know what to push him towards.
"Are you okay?" she asked. Spencer nodded, and Anthea noticed how calm he looked. He didn't look awkward worried or even in pain. He wasn't smiling, of course, and even though she knew he had no reason to suddenly smile at her, Anthea realised she missed it. She bit her lip. "Should we eat now, or…?"
"Now is great," Spencer let go of his crutches and sat down gingerly, but he lost his grip at the last second and one of the crutches fell down with a loud crack against the tiled kitchen floor. Anthea winced and moved to pick it up, but the sudden bark from the living-room, and the arrival of Zeus, caused her to pause. To her surprise, her dog ignored her completely, instead going to Spencer and sniffing first the fallen crutch, and then him. As if satisfied that the sound he had heard hadn't been Spencer falling down, Zeus finally turned to Anthea, tail wagging happily.
"Sorry, buddy," Spencer scratched the dog behind the ears affectionately. "False alarm."
Anthea's ears pricked up. "Did you fall earlier?" she asked. Zeus licked her hand, and she crouched down to allow him to attack her with one of his half-hugs, half-tackles.
Spencer looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm not the most coordinated person even without injuries," he said sheepishly. "Needless to say, Zeus doesn't like the sound of crutches falling."
Anthea frowned. "Why didn't you tell me you fell? When did this happen, today?"
"I didn't fall, I was just getting the hang of the crutches again," he waved a hand dismissively. "It's no big deal, it happens to me a lot."
"Have you been falling down and not telling me about it?!" she demanded. "Spencer!"
"Thea, it's okay," he gave her an earnest look. "You have enough to worry about."
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest again. "Spencer…" she sighed and stood up, and Zeus whined. Ignoring him momentarily, she rested a hand on top of Spencer's. His eyes widened fractionally, but he still looked calm, which she took as a good sign. "I worry about you the most. Constantly. Everything else is just background noise."
Spencer looked at her silently for a few seconds, and then his fingers moved under hers, and he was stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Anthea smiled a little, and he smiled back. "Thank you," he said simply.
"Anytime," she squeezed his hand, and then indicated the food on the table. "Hungry?"
"Starving."
Meals had gone from an event full of vibrant and animated conversation to a mostly silent affair the past month, and despite their small moment Anthea didn't expect that to change. So, she was surprised when Spencer started talking almost as soon as she had opened the take-out boxes. "You said your day was long? What happened?"
Anthea looked up from the spring rolls in confusion, and Spencer met her look without flinching. He merely sat there patiently, waiting for her to continue speaking. After a few seconds, she looked away and continued eating. "I have a proposal due next week, for a paper they want me to do at the conference coming up after the holidays. I told you about it, right?" Spencer nodded. "Anyway, it's a lot of work…" she trailed off.
"You've never been afraid of too much work," said Spencer. "You should still do it, Thea. You were so excited about it last month."
"Yeah, I guess," she shrugged. "I just meant, it's a lot of work and I don't want to get distracted from it when I start. So I was thinking of just spending Thanksgiving here," she smiled, a little sheepishly. "I can't make turkey, though, just so you know."
"Oh," Spencer speared another piece of chicken with his fork. "That makes sense, I suppose."
"Yeah, it does," Anthea gave him a suspicious look. She had been trying to think of ways to get them out of going to Chicago for weeks now, mostly because she found it impossible to lie to her parents but she wasn't ready to explain to them why Spencer couldn't travel. The conference was a good excuse, even though the workload certainly wasn't too much for her to handle. Still, she had expected Spencer to put up a fight, maybe suggest that she still go to Chicago on her own, or even insist that he was alright to travel. This newfound calmness though, was just strange.
More than strange though, it was annoying. Only one other person in Anthea's life used such a tactic, and there was no way she was willing to believe that Spencer had somehow learned her mother's favourite trick before he'd even met her.
!
Anthea squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, trying to block out the sleep that threatened to overpower her. Not that it was easy to fall asleep, with the way Spencer kept having to move to try and get comfortable. He would make it through a few hours of uninterrupted sleep before a certain position, or even the slightest of movement, would trigger a sharp pain that had him sitting up and trying to even out his breathing before he could try sleeping again. Right now, she could tell he had tried to get out of bed and given up halfway, sitting on the edge with his head in his hands and breathing harshly. Sometimes, she slept through it, and he certainly tried his hardest not to disturb her. But today was different. He was clearly in more pain than usual, and their conversation from dinner earlier in that evening was still fresh in her mind. He had fallen, enough times that her dog was now used to the sound, and he hadn't told her about it.
She turned over and reached out a hand for his arm. "Hey," her voice was heavy with sleep, but she made herself sound calm, not worried or annoyed. That wouldn't help the situation at all. "Feeling better?"
"I'm fine," said Spencer. His tone was forced, and he sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. "Sorry if I woke you."
"That's okay," she sat up and touched his shoulder gently as he began to carefully manoeuvre his leg back under the covers. There was no light in the room, but she didn't have to see his face to know that it was contorted in pain as he moved. "It's okay," she soothed. Her hand slipped into his, and immediately he was gripping it hard, some of the tension leaving his shoulders, where her other hand was resting. "It's okay," she repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Just take your time, okay? We have lots of time. Don't rush, it'll only hurt worse."
Spencer tilted his head slightly so his cheek was pressed against her neck, and this time Anthea definitely felt his expression twist with discomfort as he finally managed to lie down again. "I'm sorry," he hissed, even as Anthea squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "I promise, it'll get better in a few days, I just –"
"Stop that," Anthea kept their fingers entwined but removed her other hand so she could turn on the lamp on her side-table. It bathed the room in a soft, comforting glow, and most importantly it didn't hurt either of their eyes. She used the light to offer Spencer a small smile, which he tried to return. "I don't care how often you wake me up if you need me, Spencer. Do you want something to eat, or drink?"
Spencer shook his head tiredly. "No, Thea. Go back to sleep."
Anthea hesitated, but his eyelids were already drooping, which she took as a good sign. Nodding, she kissed his forehead and switched off the lamp. She was about to return to her side of the bed and continue staring at the ceiling for two hours while Spencer again tried to sleep fitfully, when she had an idea. As many problems as he had had with physical affection in the beginning of their relationship, he seemed to quite like it now, and she knew how useful distractions could be in his current state. Carefully, she scooted back to the centre of the bed and rested her head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand. "Is this okay?" she asked softly. "I can move, if –"
"No," he said, a little too quickly. She felt him slip his arm under her back to pull her even closer. "Stay. Please."
Anthea sighed. "You could have just asked, you silly man."
"I thought you were asleep."
"I told you to wake me up."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing," she kissed his cheek. "Let's just try and make it to sunrise before we get up, huh?"
"Thea, I –"
"If you say sorry one more time, I'm going to shoot you."
Spencer burst out laughing, and Anthea smiled wider than she had in over a month.
