I apologise for all spelling and grammar mistakes, unfortunately my proof reading isn't fantastic...
Chapter 15
The street was a bustling with people: old men, young men, young girls and their mothers shopping from store windows, families and homeless people, though even they seemed happier than most of the people Spencer had ever interacted with. Still, they continued to walk and laugh and smile and Spencer couldn't help but feel out of place, like he didn't belong. Was this really what life outside the Abbey was like? He almost wanted it.
It was snowing faintly, the white powder easily caught in Spencer's blonde locks before it melted, trickling down his face, making him wipe it away hastily. He was getting soaked. But he didn't mind, he'd felt colder in his room at the Abbey during winter, when the wind found it's way through the smallest of cracks and not even the extra blanket Boris had allowed every boy to have protected him from the chill. He had things to distract him from it.
Spencer clutched his jacket close, pulling it around himself tighter as the wind picked up and would have threatened to blow him away, had it not been for his larger-than-normal size. True to his word, Jamie had found time for Spencer to come with him to talk with the police, having made up a lie that Spencer's injuries from the fight with the guard were much worse than what he'd anticipated. Spencer didn't understand what Jamie was going to do when he returned that night with nothing to report with, but he shrugged the worry off. That was Jamie's problem, not his, though he had to admit; Jamie was far nicer than most of the other doctors.
Spencer almost jumped from the shock of having a truck honk its horn. Out here was definately nothing like the Abbey! Spencer felt the frown on his face dig deeper as he looked up at Jamie with a glare as the red head's snickers continued to fall from his lips. They were still audible from behind his wool covered hand, "Sorry." He chuckled, still smiling, though it seemed saddened, "You really haven't been out of the Abbey in a long time, have you?"
Spencer shook his head, a frown still firmly set on his face, "I can't remember the last time I was outside of its walls."
This was too strange. There were too many adults, and far too many women to be normal to him. Spencer couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a female anything, bar the dog that had some how gotten into the Abbey a year or two ago. It was strange to see women around him. It was also alien to him to see kids cry, smile, run around or to be called and hugged with so much love that anyone watching could feel it. Spencer almost felt jealous of them.
He felt Jamie tug on his green, thick jacket, directing him further south, Spencer guessed, before they came to a stop in front of a house made from stone. "Careful of the steps, they're usually slippery."
Spencer nodded, his frown now confused more than annoyed, "I thought you said we were going to the police?"
"I didn't think you'd feel comfortable with the authorities around," The doctor had begun to rummage around in his small bag. Spencer thought he made too much noise, almost as much as Tala and Ian when they were both sick of each other.
"This is my home." Jamie made a pleased sound when he finally pulled out his keys and noisily opened the door, the rattling of the keys against the door reminding Spencer of his month in solitude, waiting with his heart beating so hard he thought it was about to leap from his chest. He'd always thought the guards did that on purpose, monsters that they were.
As Jamie swung the door open and stepped inside, Spencer was almost hesitant to step inside. The warm air inside the house had hit his face, warming his chilled cheeks and nose. He managed to enter with Jamie's call, tugging at the snake-like scarf wound around his neck as he did so.
The house was warm. Spencer hadn't ever felt this warm. As he scanned the room, slowling taking in all the pictures on the walls and balanced on and in the display cabinets, Spencer couldn't help but wonder if this was what a real home was like. He'd kept up with cold front, only allowing it to fall for a moment when he couldn't help but ogle what seemed to be an elaborate collection of salt and pepper shakers in two of the older looking display cabinets. There had to be a hundred different pairs! Spencer managed to tear his eyes away from a particularly strange pair (they seemed to be two dancing pigs, though Spencer was sure they also resembled cows), to take in the furniture in the room. The armchairs and lounge were old, tattered in some places, but seemed to be comfortable. The rest of the room was a mix of oranges, browns and creamy yellows, and Spencer almost wished he wouldn't have to leave, it felt so homey.
"This is him, then?" Spencer's head snapped to attention as his ears caught the deep voice, his face deceptively blank as he spotted a large, balding man in a blue uniform. He was old, but he had a much kinder looking face than Boris. Perhaps it was because he was smiling a smile that didn't remind him of the many icicles hanging from the Abbey's roofs.
But there was another man beside him and Jamie, and Spencer felt his heart speed up, almost racing: A man with dark brown, messy hair, golden brown eyes and his being in a wheelchair. His head snapped to Jamie again as the doctor spoke, unable to resist taking second and third glances at the man in the wheelchair.
He saw Jamie nod, "Yes, this is Spencer." He motioned for the teen to sit down, which he did with little hesitation, "Spencer this is Sargeant Davies. I told you about him, remember? And this is Rhys, I believe you already know him."
The blonde nodded slowly, feeling stupid and as though his voice had run off. It seemed to have a good reason to have been silent though: Rhys was alive.
Rhys was alive.
Spencer couldn't tell whether he felt more excited than hurt, or more hurt than excited. It was common knowledge that the used-to-be cook had disappeared without warning soon after he and his friends been handed over to Dr. Roberts. The disappearance of the adult most precious to them had hurt them all very deeply. Roberts had hinted that he'd deserted them, repeating it several times a day. But Tala, Ian, Bryan and himself had refused to believe that; Rhys wouldn't have left them there if he could have helped it. He'd been far too kind. Almost subconsciously they'd begun to think of him as dead; Their hearts hurt less when they thought about him like that. Sometimes Spencer was sure he could tell what hurt the most though.
But the sight of the man they'd made dead, practically forced themselves to forget about, made Spencer's mind reel, tilt and want to fly loose from his head. Why was Rhys here? Spencer eyed the wheelchair discretely. Had someone tried to hurt him? To kill him off? With all the crazy experiments and that serum, Spencer wasn't doubting that the idea was completely crazy. Not with how Boris had become.
"Not very socialable is he?" He heard Davies comment. Spencer sent a cold stare his way.
Jamie was looking nervous and waved away Davies' question, before wringing his hands again, "Rhys was hurt by Boris, I found him on the street bleeding to death and took him to the hospital. He wouldn't tell the authorities what happened, until now." He explained. Spencer hadn't thought he'd been showing his confusion.
However, he nodded slightly, "Right." So he hadn't left. But he had been hurt. And now Jamie was alerting the authorities of what was happening. Suddenly the thought of living outside the Abbey wasn't sounding too bad. If he had his long time surrogate father around.
He couldn't wait to tell the others! That meant Rhys hadn't abandoned them, he hadn't forgotten them and he most certainly wasn't dead. Spencer could almost hear Tala's rant as he thought about it. His eyes came to rest of Rhys again.
Rhys was looking very serious, before his frown turned into a grin, not-unlike the ones he used to offer them as small children, "So... I heard Bryan and yourself have become close. He's your boyfriend now, no? Was I right, or was I right?" He turned to Jamie, slapping his bottom with a grin on his face, causing Jamie to squeak and turn bright red, "Am I a genius or what?"
Spencer felt his cheeks heat up at the display and the accusation, no matter how much he forced the blood away from his face. He felt a slight feeling of deja vu as he allowed the corners of his lips to quirk up, the tiniest bit, "He's not my boyfriend."
o0o0o
Bryan frowned as he kicked the door open to their training room casually, his hands buried in his midnight blue jacket's pockets deeply as peered into the room, emerald like eyes lighting up with confusion as he realised Spencer wasn't there either.
"Shut the door! There's a breeze y'know!" Bryan did, frowning down at Ian as the smaller boy grinned at his obvious dislike to being ordered around. "Looking for your boyfriend?" He sung the last word, still grinning like the little lunatic he'd created himself to be.
"Be quiet!" Bryan spat back, his cheeks now splattered with pink. He glanced around the room again, taking in Tala's slack form on a seat, where he'd fallen asleep. The oportunity seemed far too good to miss. Bryan couldn't help the feeling of sadistic glee he felt swell inside him as he slunk over to his friend. Grinning much like Ian still was, he pushed Tala over enough to cause the red head to fall from the bench, swearing and cursing like only he could as his head collided with the metal seat. Bryan could hear Ian's loud cackles as he himself snickered into one of his hands.
Tala loomed over him, "Why'd you do that? Spencer's not around to amuse you so you push others around? I should - Stop laughing, it wasn't funny!" Bryan couldn't help the snickers that came from his as Tala bounded after a still roaring Ian, both of them too preoccupied with either annoying or killing the other to realise that Boris was probably watching them.
Bryan quickly calmed and watched with amusement as Tala pinned Ian to the cold, stone floor, his lean self sitting on top of the younger boy's back as Tala's hands threatened to rip Ian's hair out, all the while, Ian was still cackling and grinning.
As the noise went down, Bryan called out to them, "Have you seen Spencer anywhere today?"
Tala shook his head as he continued to glare at his shorter teammate. Ian didn't, "Jamie said something about taking him out to see a doctor about something, but I don't really know where to." He paused, fingering his bottom lip absently as he sat on a cool bench, looking much more like the innocent child he was supposed to be, "You don't think he meant out of the Abbey, do you?"
Bryan couldn't place Ian's expression as being one emotion. The younger boy's eyes seemed to light up with the possibility that Spencer had managed to get himself out of the Abbey for the first time in years. He ran the idea by Tala who told him to 'shut up' and pushed him from the bench, starting another fight.
Bryan ran the thought through his mind a couple more times. He hadn't really thought about it too much, not since he was younger. He'd eventually given up on the idea of seeing the family he remembered having a long time ago. Perhaps they'd also forgotten about him, or died, like Rhys had done. Had Jamie taken Spencer to see family? He'd seemed completely healthy last night to possibly need a doctor.
"What's going on between you two anyway?"
Bryan's eyes snapped up from the floor, focusing on Tala's serious face, "What d'you mean?" He asked, taking a seat on the metal bench opposite Tala and Ian; Spencer would find him eventually.
Tala's face took on an exasperated look, "I mean you two spend too much time with each other for it to be normal. You were cold to him for a little bit after our time in those rooms, but you quickly changed when it came to him. It took you longer to start being remotely nice to us," Tala gestured between Ian and himself exaggeratedly, "Hell, some of the other boys in the East wing hardly talk any more after their time in solitude. You two seem closer than when you were torn apart."
"Nothing's going on between us." Bryan huffed, feeling his face heat up, "We've always been close, and I can't stay angry at Spencer for long."
"Why were you angry with him?" Ian asked, innocently, looking confused in an almost adorable manner.
Bryan's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Why had he been angry with Spencer? It wasn't as though he hadn't wanted to be around him, it wasn't that the blonde had sent him into that lonely cell. Spencer had dealt with the same thing from what he'd gathered. Except... Something else had happened. He'd heard the doctors murmuring about it. Spencer had had something done to him, something out of the ordinary. Perhaps the thought of Spencer not talking to him had made him jealous? He quickly dismissed the idea and glared at Ian, "I just was! It's none of your business-"
"Did you have a lover's tiff?" Both Ian and Tala snickered at the idea.
"No!"
Tala smiled slyly, "Oh yeah? Why has your face gone red, then?"
Bryan resisted the urge to pummel both their head into the stone floor as they again broke into a symphony of snickers and cackles. He glared harder, before standing up with a huff and stomping to the door, planning to head to his room. He could still hear their racket when he slammed the door shut.
"Idiots." He mumbled as he stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor as he walked. He almost fell down with shock when black boots invaded the long stretch of boring grey stone he'd been eyeing.
"Bryan, I'm surprised you didn't join Spencer on his trip." Bryan's back immediately straightened as his arms fell to his sides. Boris smiled twistedly down at him, "You two are usually inseperable."
Bryan's face didn't display the confusion he felt, or the fear trickling into him. Was Boris going to punich him? His and Spencer's good night kisses hadn't been hidden from the cameras outside his room. Still... He refused to cringe under the gaze of the Abbey's owner as he continued to stare down at him, "Tell Spencer I wish him a full recovery, the next time you see him Bryan." The teen stood stone still, causing Boris to smirk as he continued on his way. Boris' chuckle practically glued him to the spot.
o0o0o
Boris' eyes narrowed from behind his red goggles, as he came to a stop behind several guards, each sitting in front of a set of monitors and a keyboard. Most of the blinking lights around the dark room were red, though the blinking green light to Boris' left didn't draw his attention any more. It simply meant their most prized possession wasstill within their clutches.
"Has Dr. Greenaway returned?" He demanded, eyes swooping over the four men in front of him.
The one furthest to his right answered, "He has sir. A young boy was with him."
Boris nodded, "Were they carrying anything? Bags, papers?"
The man nodded, "Just a small sling bag."
The old man nodded, calling for the guards to continue doing their good work. He needed to talk to Dr. Greenaway about Spencer and Bryan's closeness. He still hadn't done anything about it. Voltaire was going to be visiting within a matter of weeks, though this time without his grandson, and he couldn't risk the old man's funding on two teenage boys who wouldn't ('couldn't' would probably be the better word, Boris acknowledged) stay away from each other. He saw a flicker of red hair pass the corner in front of him, almost lazily picking up his pace to follow him.
o0o0o
Rhys had rolled himself to a window and was staring out of it almost longingly. It had been a long time since he'd been able to go outside, even longer still since he'd seen Spencer. The kid had grown that was for sure. He seemed to be developing more muscle than Rhys had seen any other boy do, faster too considering Spencer was only thirteen, if he remembered correctly.
Still... No longer was Spencer the scrawny boy he used to sneak extra dessert to after an already large meal. He had always been mature, but now he seemed, almost grown up, talking to the police like he had.
Rhys sniffled a bit, and scrubbed at his eyes in aggrivation. Damn it! He was far too much of a softy at heart, not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, not even Jamie. He sighed and pushed his right wheel around turning so he could head towards the kitchen. He'd missed those boys, every single day.
Vaguely, he found himself wondering if Ian was still the annoying little smart-ass he'd been when he was first introduced to him. And if Tala still had his overly large mouth. Bryan, he smiled slightly, would most likely grown up a lot. Rhys couldn't see him without that adorable blush and grin upon his face.
He sighed, almost sorrowfully. Even though Spencer hadn't directly told them, Rhys had seen that Spencer had been through too much in his thirteen years of life. He wasn't supposed to know what it felt like to be belted up when he made the smallest mistake, or to accept it with a frown and later and shrug or tired smile. No kid should.
Boris was going to pay. For turning his and many of the other boys he'd grown to know well into supposedly emotionless drones, for threatening Jamie and killing off the boys employees unlucky enough to come into contact with the old geezer and he was most definately going to pay for putting Rhys in his wheelchair.
That bastard was going to get it. His boys were going to be the old man's undoing.
Woffy: I'm sorry for leaving this story for so long... BUT! I am continuing, just haven't been motivated as of late... But I would like to thank Nara Rei, who made me realize just how long it's been since I have updated...
Anyway... Give me until the next chapter to get into the groove of things... I had to reread my own story that's how much I couldn't remember... But I have ideas for the next few chapters, its getting them down that's the problem, stupid writer's block! -waves fist angrily-
Review please...