So it took me a while, I know, but I updated! It starts out a little silly again and then after the first thousand words or so I got tired of it, so it's more drama then anything else really. Hopefully you all like that kind of thing, though;)

I just wanted to thank everyone that commented on the previous chapter. It was great to see so many of you interested in this story, despite me having jerked you all around by removing it in the first place. I was an a-hole and I seriously apologize for that fact. So yeah, thanks for giving this story a go despite it!

Senior Year: The Reunion

Chapter 8: Eye for an eye.

Spencer's point of view.

I threw up in her car.

No, really, I threw up in her car. We were probably no more than three minutes away from the hospital when she took a corner too fast and I slid in my seat, my wrist hitting the door rather hard and I just...I threw up. The pain and the tension and my freaking heart breaking was just too much and it all spilled out of me.

Ten seconds later it spilled out of Ashley too. I was mortified that not only had I gone and embarrassed myself like that, but I actually made her sick as well. That and we caused a bit of a traffic jam when she simply stepped hard on the break in an effort to get out of the car. All in all it wasn't the prettiest of sights...or the best smelling. Yeah, that three minutes it took us to get to the hospital was excruciating and nauseating and just...it was just...it was really messed up. I can't think of a better way of explaining it.

I mean I was trapped in a car with someone who could obviously not even look at me anymore, I was in pain and to top it all off I had to stick my head out of the window when I needed to breathe. Yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said the universe hates me. That was a cosmic bitch slap of epic proportions and my ears are still metaphorically ringing from the impact.

Strangely though the thing that hurt the most, that upset me the most, that sickened me to my stomach the most, was listening to her coo into her cellphone to some woman. She's moved on, obviously she did after all these years. Hell, I knew she'd moved on, I stood on her doorstep years ago and witnessed it for myself when that horribly skinny chick with barely any clothes on opened her apartment door, but having it confirmed again? I won't lie, it hurt like a bitch.

It hurt more than my wrist or my pride did. It hurt in a way it really shouldn't have after all these years. I've put her behind me, I've buried it with everything else I've ever done that I'm so ashamed of. So why on God's green earth did it have such an effect on me? Ugh, this is all Carmen's fault. Her and her stupid notion that I have unresolved issues or whatever and that I needed to do this Reunion thing. This is probably her twisted way of getting me back for the pasta debacle of '06. It's not a pretty story that, involves me cooking and her hugging the toilet bowl for a day straight.

I'm not very good at cooking, surprisingly enough, and after that episode Carmen's handled any and all food related situations. She won't even let me make toast unsupervised...

Anyway, point is this is her fault. And I'm going to make her pay, as soon as my poor head stops swimming with pain and my wrist isn't all swollen and well, broken. At least that's what the doctor is saying I think. I've pretty much tuned him out though, I'm more concentrated on not flinching when he touches my wrist and just holding onto Kyla's hand.

She came in about the same time a doctor finally got around to seeing me. I was beyond relieved to see her, because I couldn't bring myself to really look at Ashley, despite the fact that she'd spent the last fifteen or so minutes with her rather green face firmly between her knees. God knows I find it tragic that despite the fact that she's never truly hurt me, I'm still managing to do exactly that to her. Years ago I cut all ties with her, I pushed her out of my life. I broke her heart knowing full well deep down that she loved me, that she loved me in a way no one would ever probably love me again.

Gave me her heart and I broke it. Gave me a ride and I made her throw up. I'm no good for this girl, or for this woman that used to be a girl I knew. Yet I haven't asked her to leave, because it feels so good in a way to know she's at least in the same room as I am again. That the same air that brush my lips may have touched hers too. That if I take a deep enough breath, I might just smell her perfume. That if I just open my eyes and turn to my right, I'd see her. It's with that thought that I lower my good arm from off my face, that I open my eyes, but before I can look at the one thing I find myself desperate to see for reasons unknown, my eyes land dead on Carmen Garcia.

She's pissed. She's so pissed I can spot it from all the way over here. It's rolling off her in waves, like it's bleeding out of her skin or something. The fact that she's got little Tommy on her hip at least comforts me to some degree, 'cos this means she won't have both hands available to strangle me with.

"What the hell, Spencer?! You fuc..."She pauses there and I'm thankful, because no way was she just going to say what I think she wanted to say right in front of Tommy. Last time my Mom came over Tommy said 'crap, crap, crap, crap' the whole time. That somehow evolved into her making us all go to church with her the next Sunday. "You fudging promised me!"

And I did, I had promised her, but this wasn't my fault! This wasn't something I went looking for, it was just the universe playing another one of it's sad excuses for a practical joke!

"Look, it wasn't my fault, okay? I just stepped into the class and this kid went crazy and then made a run for it. Turned out he had a bag full of drugs on him and I couldn't...I couldn't just do nothing!"

Honestly, what did she expect me to do?! I'm a cop, it's my job and...and...whoa Nelly! Who switched on the disco ball? No really, every thing's all spinny and there's dancing spots and...

"Hey, I think the injection just kicked in, 'cos I'm feeling pretty damn okay right now."

Right on! This is kinda funky, like being trapped underwater without the pesky panic about drowning and sharks and those weird blow fish. It's just all slow and steady and floaty and...hehe, Carmen looks like she's seen a ghost. She's looking at Kyla and Ashley and she's all...surprised.

She's all wide eyed and gapey. Ooooh, I bet I can count each and every tooth in her mouth right now. One, two, three, four...

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

Me? Why I'm here so the good doctor can fix up my wrist! She's so dumb sometimes, I mean really. Hey, why's she giving me the look of doom and destruction? Oh, right. She wasn't talking to me...and I should stop giggling now. It's not dignified for an officer of the law to giggle, right?

I think I missed something for a while, because Kyla has magically transported herself. I mean one minute she's sitting in the corner, then I blink, and now she's standing right in front of Carmen! How'd she do that?! And why are they just staring at each other?

"They brought me to the hospital, well, Ash brought me to the hospital." I feel the need to break the silence, because silence can get awkward and we've had enough of that. Besides, when I talk the disco ball seems to stop spinning just a bit. "I kinda puked in her car and then she kinda puked in her car. It was a really weird bonding experience I think."

Okay, I didn't mean to say that, but when I looked at Ashley all bent over and green, that's the first thing that came to mind. Fine, it was the second thing. I'd tell you all about the first thing, but it's a bit dirty and we're in a hospital and it seems kinda wrong.

"Yeah, okay, that sounds really nice. Now what's happening here? Is your wrist broken? What did the doctor say?"

The doctor? The good man with the magic mojo? He said, uhm, well...

"The doctor said...uhm...a lot of things. Said it was probably broken, but..."

Isn't Ashley just the prettiest thing ever? I mean look at her, even when she's all green and sweaty she's just...just beautiful. I used to watch her sleep, used to run my fingertips all over her beautiful face and watch her turn into my hand for more contact. It always made me feel warm and breathless and...and loved.

I mean she wanted me, even in her sleep. How great is that? It used to blow my mind a little, when she'd make these soft keening noises and shift in her sleep until she'd turned her body completely into mine, molding herself against me like we were meant to be that way. I was meant to be a part of her, or she was meant to be a part of me, something like that.

I swear I can feel her heat envelope me now, just like it did back then. Just from looking at her skin, skin I know is soft and sweet to the taste, I can feel it sink into me like it did when she would wrap us together in her sleep. Sometimes there'd be nothing to separate her skin from my own, no t-shirt or boxers or tank top, just skin meeting skin. Those nights it would always feel like her over heated skin, over heated because of what we did before she fell asleep, would actually burn mine. It would meld and mold her to me even closer than usual and I'd fall asleep feeling safer than I could ever recall feeling before or after.

I can hear them all talking, Ashley included, but my mind is so lost right now. I'm lost in the memory of her skin, in the way I can remember how her mouth would find mine in the morning, in the way she kissed me like it was the first time every time. God I miss that, I miss her.

I can finally admit that, because this is surely a dream or something. The fact that everything is looking a bit softer, all the hard edges have seemed to disappear. Maybe I am just dreaming, maybe I'm not really in this room and I can look at that face of hers for as long as I want to without feeling any guilt.

Finally though, some of what is being said filters through the clouds that have seemed to fill my mind and my heart, so confused right now by what's my reality and what's just dreams from the past, clenches painfully in my chest.

"...cab, no big deal. As long as I get out of here soon."

She sounds so tired, so desperate, like her life depends on getting out of this room. Like she can't stand it any longer to be here, to be near me...

"Wow, you really can't stand me, can you? I mean I knew...I...you really hate me so much you can't even look at me? I just want to see your face...I really like your face, you know?"

Finally the clouds dissipate almost completely, the medication being pushed out of my blood stream by the cold shot of sorrow that fills it. Reality, as unwelcome as it is, is trying it's hardest to rush back and I'm so ill equipped for it in this moment.

I'm not prepared for the hurt that stumbles from her mouth in the form of broken laughter, for the way her eyes shut so tightly while she tries to drag breath into her visibly laboring chest.

"You just want to see my face?" Another laugh, this one harder and somehow filled with nothing but derision, reaches my ears. "Maybe you should have thought about that before dumping me all those years ago, Spencer. Ever think of that?"

I simply nod my head, because don't I owe her the truth? Don't I owe her a thousand apologies? Isn't hurting her one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made, aside from getting my brother killed and my best friend raped? I've tried to make up for those two mistakes, have practically dedicated my life to righting those two wrongs as best I could, so why should I not try the same with Ashley?

Doesn't she deserve it, no matter how much it might hurt me to admit how much of a selfish bitch I had been, no matter that what I did to Ashley made me doubt everything I ever thought I knew about myself? Does the fact I'm ashamed of what I did to her give me the right to keep the truth from her?

"Yes, I've thought about it. It used to be all I thought about, until...until the night with Clay and Carmen and...what happened to them, and then it was just one of the things I thought about. It was just the first hurt I caused in a long line of them. I never got to tell you I was sorry, to tell you that you didn't do anything wrong. I was too messed up and too much of a coward to admit that I wasn't as perfect as everyone thought I was. I just...I let you think that I didn't...that I'd stopped...that you'd done something wrong, that somehow it was your fault we were over and it wasn't like that."

I'm not sure why I couldn't admit that I'd made her think I didn't love her anymore, maybe because I knew she'd have to understand that I had still loved her, that somehow it might imply that I still love her...

"What do you...do you mean to say that...that you hadn't..."

She trails off, her hand motioning in the space between us and I know she understood anyway. She understood perfectly what my stuttering little speech meant. She knows that when I told her I didn't love her, it had been a lie. That I'd put the blame for the break up squarely on her shoulders when it rested completely on mine.

"I was falling behind in school and you were doing good, I was lonely and you had all your new friends, I was a mess and you were doing better than ever. I was angry and depressed and I took it out on you in the end. I tried to make it all your fault, because I couldn't handle the fact that I'd made some wrong choices and that my life was going down the toilet. I didn't want to admit I'd fucked up, so I made you think you did."

Then I breathe in deeply, my stomach rolling uncomfortably as I search for the courage to admit something that gives her all the power, that gives her something she could use to hurt me with...

"I never stopped loving you back then, Ash, I just stopped loving myself."

There's absolute quiet in the little cubicle, the sounds from around us fading away against the backdrop of my little confession. I can see so many feelings, so many different emotions chasing each other on Ashley's face. I can see the flash of despair, the bitterness around her tightly clenched mouth that follows, the utter rage and disbelief that floods her face in bright red.

Then for the first time I consciously realize what I had done to her, really finally understand how deeply I must have hurt her. I knew how delicate she really was, how afraid she was that she wasn't worth loving, or how when she loved someone they were always taken away from her in the end. I knew all her insecurities, knew how deeply she had been hurt in her past as a child and I still did what I did.

She has every right in the world to hate me even more than she must have.

Then suddenly I'm sucking in a breath as I feel myself being pushed down into the hospital bed, Ashley's strong hands on my shoulders pinning me down firmly. Her face is so close to mine that I can clearly see her pupils dilate, can count the exact number of freckles she tries to hide under her make-up. It also means I can actually feel her anger, her absolute rage, emanating from her every pore.

"Do you honestly think any of that means a fucking thing to me now?"

The pressure on my shoulders increase painfully, but that doesn't even really register, because she's suddenly pressed up against me. I can feel her shuddering against me and there's nothing exciting, nothing sexual about it. This is pure hate running through her body, revulsion towards me making her body react like this.

I've never wished harder that it was me that died eight years ago, not Clay, as I do in this moment. I deserved it, not him. I deserved all the bad things that happened that night, not Clay and Carmen. I was the bad one, I was the one that had done something that deserved punishment, not them, and this is the proof of it: Ashley's face filled with hate and despair and the pain I caused her underneath it all.

"Do you really think I want to hear this? Your little sob story that's supposed to make me feel sorry for you and make me understand why you did what you did? I don't fucking care, Spencer. I don't care why you did it, or if you meant it, or if you still lo..."

She stopped then, her face going absolutely still, her eyes cold and dead as she pulled herself away from me and stepped back.

"It's over, has been over for so long, so I don't see the point of doing this with you. This is what you wanted, Spencer, so deal with that and don't make it my problem."

Then she's gone. My eyes are still firmly planted on the vacant spot where she'd been standing no longer than a few seconds before and I finally realize that I'm the one trembling now. I'm the one whose chest is heaving painfully and all because I finally clued myself in on the fact that...

The fact that I still love Ashley. It simply wouldn't hurt this much if I didn't.

- - - - -

By the time Carmen finally comes back I've already had the x-ray. The doctor is actually putting my wrist in a cast as we speak, giving me instructions on what to do and what not to do. I'm once again simply ignoring him completely as I lie there and just...just hurt. That's really all I'm capable of doing right now, yet when I spot Carmen, who looks strangely rumpled and somewhat disorientated, I feel relief flooding me. I hadn't realized how badly I needed my best friend right now until I spotted her.

All it takes is one look at my face and her apparent disorientation disappears and she's the sharp, focused woman I've come to know. She frowns, shuffles Tommy around onto her other hip and pins the doctor with a stern glare all at once.

"So what's the verdict, Doc? Is she going to be okay?"

She's all business now, but the way she shoots me a small, concerned look tells me she knows something other than my wrist is bothering me. Well, she'd have to be stupid if she didn't realize that I suppose, I mean I have just seen Ashley for the first time in years and wasn't Carmen the one that told me I wasn't over her? That I need to talk to Ashley and get some things in the open?

Not that that helped me much in the end, if my sobbing heart is going to be any indication...

"She'll be fine in a few weeks. She just needs to keep it still for a few days and maybe take some Calcium to help the bone heal, but there probably wont be any permanent damage."

Carmen's right eyebrow cocks up and her mouth tightens almost imperceptibly.

"Probably?"

The doctor, and I only now realize he looks pretty young to be wearing the white coat, swallows.

"No, I mean there definitely won't be any permanent damage. It was a hairline fracture in the bone that cleanly severed it by the wrist, so it'll grow back with no problem. Uhm...I promise."

He tugged at his collar and swallowed and I couldn't help laughing, because did Carmen really give off that scary a vibe? It seemed she did, because an hour later she had talked the doctor into discharging me, despite the fact that he said he'd like me to stay overnight. I think it was because of the uniform, maybe he felt that because I was a police officer he had to take extra care of me or something. I don't know, but once Carmen was sure I was okay she didn't feel inclined to leave me alone at the hospital for the night. The whole over protective thing went both ways in our friendship after all.

So I was sent packing with a bottle of pain killers and a relieved smile from the doctor, but that was mostly because he was glad to be rid of Carmen I think. We found Carter patiently waiting in a chair, his eyes coolly giving me the once over before he smiled and nodded.

"You'll live"

That was all he said really, except for telling me that he'd already made sure my car got back to the house for me. It was corny to think it, but he showed me how much he cared when he did stuff like that, he didn't need to say it. He was cool like that, my partner.

So I went home and slept off the last of the buzz caused by whatever the hell it was the doctor had injected me with. Not before calming my mother down of course, because Carmen made me phone her and tell her what happened before letting me crash. That was twenty minutes of my life I'm never getting back, thank you very much. I also ended up telling Carmen what happened between me and Ashley, what she said...

Which brings me to the here and now. The here being two blocks from my house and the now being...uh...about nine in the morning if my watch is set correctly. I slept like shit, kept having dreams about Ashley, about what she said in that hospital room and when I finally dragged myself out of bed it was only to swallow don't some Ibuprofen and then hit the road running, literally.

I've been running for more than an hour and a half and I'm somewhat regretting it. My wrist is killing me, so much so that I've once or twice considered stopping at the nearest pay phone and getting Carmen to pick me up, but every time I just pushed on. I need this time to myself, I need the rhythm of my feet on asphalt and the familiar burn in my calves to ease my mind a bit. I need to forget, just for a little while, and running is how I do it.

I still love Ashley, a fact I've managed to ignore or deny for a very long time now, but not anymore. If accepting it is the only way to get over it, then that's what I'm going to do. At least the last pain filled hour or so gave me that knowledge, so it's been worth it.

By the time I reach home I just double over, my good hand resting on the low gate as I try to even out my breathing. I need to stretch, need to cool down my straining muscles, but for a minute or so I can only stand there, can only breathe and close my eyes tightly against the crazy world that's waiting patiently for me to join it again.

After a while that's what I do, I stretch out a bit and wipe sweat from forehead with my shirt, ignoring the fact that now I'm the one probably giving Mr Taylor a show. He's old, he's wife is a screaming hag most of the time, so I suppose he deserves the little bit of joy he gets out of life. I figure it's my good deed for the day.

I'm halfway up the path before I spot her. She's just sitting on my front steps, her eyes steady as she watches me walk towards her. She looks pretty damn terrible really, her eyes tired, red-rimmed with dark circles underneath them. I don't think she's slept at all, the fact that I can smell whatever it is she drank all the way from over here giving me the idea that she was out all night and instead of going home ended up here, probably still completely smashed out of her skull. I don't care to ask how she got here, don't care that she's now standing on my bottom step in nothing but a short, slinky black dress and swaying slightly.

I care about the hand she's stretched out towards me, about the way she's looking at me with so much pleading to...I don't know, to make things magically right maybe? I can't really do that, but I can take her offered hand, so I do.

And then she's suddenly in my arms, her mouth against my own and she's kissing me, her hunger for my mouth so palpable it almost knocks me off my feet.

"I hate you, Spencer, I hate you so fucking much."

It's mumbled against my lips and I taste her breath, the anger mixed with alcohol on it, and I pull her closer, kiss her harder.

"I know, Ash, I know."

- - -

Hopefully none of you got a headache reading that! Let me know, yeah? Also I'm thinking Kyla's point of view next, but if you have a different opinion on the matter, share it;)