The cab ride home was silent aside from my sniffling. Spencer sat in the front, his body stiff as he stared out the window, leaving Penelope to comfort me with the occasional squeeze of my hand which she was holding. We dropped her off first, but Spencer made no move to join me in the backseat.
Once we arrived at our apartment, he paid the driver before opening my door and helping me out of the car. I wasn't as drunk as I had been when they found me about an hour ago, but I was still out of it and my coordination was lacking. After he practically carried me to our apartment, I leaned against the wall of the hallway as Spencer fiddled with his keys.
"You're mad at me," I informed him, trying not to tear up again. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad," He assured me, his voice still flat and unemotional as he reached out to help me through the door. "But I don't understand why you didn't tell me before or at least today instead of getting yourself into this state."
"I wanted it to be over," I insisted. "I didn't want to think about what he did, I didn't want to think about it happening again."
Before Spencer could answer I felt my stomach shift and I started salivating in that all too familiar way. Knowing what was about to happened and feeling a sudden burst of adrenaline at the thought, I bolted out of Spencer's arms towards the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet just in time to empty my stomach.
It felt like it was never ending as I retched up everything I'd drank that day. At some point, as tears streamed down my face and my nose ran in what I'm sure was a very unattractive way, Spencer appeared to pull back my hair. By the time I was done, I was exhausted and my stomach hurt from all the heaving. I leaned back against the bathtub, fighting to catch my breath as the tears continued.
"Let's get you in the shower," Spencer suggested as I shook my head earning a sigh from him. "It'll make you feel better."
I sniffled and wiped my eyes, knowing he was right.
"Will you stay?"
"Of course," Spencer nodded, holding out a hand to help me up off the floor.
I accepted it and slowly tried to strip myself of my clothes as he turned the water on to let it get to a good temperature. Once it was running, he turned back to me just in time to see me stuck with my shirt over my head as I struggled to get my arm out. He sighed again before coming over to help me, helping me out of my pants as well. Once I was naked, he helped me climb into the shower and the water did feel good. It was soothing and refreshing, but I couldn't shake the feeling of dread from my stomach.
"I don't wanna move," I mumbled more to myself than Spencer. "Don't wanna leave, but I can't go through it again."
"You won't have to move," Spencer said softly, his hand reaching out to steady me as I slipped slightly in the tub. "We're going to figure it out, Mickey. You don't even know if he's here because of you. Maybe it's a horrible coincidence."
"He's a bad guy," I warned him. "S'here for a reason. I know it."
Spencer stayed silent and handed me the soap, his refusal to comment leading me to believe he thought I was over reacting. I showered in silence, Spencer's arm always there and ready to catch me until I needed it to help me step out. My foot caught slightly on the bath tub though and I lurched forward into his arms.
His hands on my naked body felt nice even though the circumstances that led us to this moment were less than pleasant and I suddenly had another idea about how to distract myself from my worries. But when I looked into his eyes there was no hint of arousal despite the fact that he'd watched me shower for the last ten minutes and now had me naked and his in arms. The only emotion on his face was anxiety and concern.
Deciding that needed to be changed, I slowly stretched up to place a kiss against his lips, but to my surprise, he pulled back.
"C'mon," I said with a smile, letting the towel draped over my shoulders drop to the floor. "Don't you want me?"
I carefully grabbed his hands and moved them to cup my bare chest, causing his eyes drift down towards them, but they snapped back up to meet mine as he pulled his hands
away.
"Not like this..."
His words were innocent enough and perfectly understandable due to the state I was in, but they still stung. I felt tears fill my eyes once again as I pushed him away, picking up the towel and wrapping it tightly around myself.
"It's because I'm damaged goods, isn't it?"
My words came out harsh and accusingly causing Spencer's eyes to widen.
"No, no, Mickey, of course not!" He protested. "I'd never think of you like that."
He went to pull me back into his arms, but I just shook my head and stormed passed him and into our bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
Spencer slept on the couch that night which left me waking up with a feeling of guilt as I vaguely remembered throwing a pillow at him when he came in to bring me a glass of water. There was one on the night stand though which meant he'd risked a second attack and snuck in at some point to put it there.
My head was throbbing as I sat up feeling dazed and confused, but surprisingly not nauseous which meant that I must've thrown up the night before. It was all a blur from about two hours after I got to that bar.
I was filled with shame when I thought about what I'd done. I'd spent so long trying to convince people I'd changed, but I went back to my old habits at the first sign of trouble. At the time though it was the only thing I could think of. The panic, the fear, the stress of seeing him again shook me to my core and I could feel it creeping back in now that I was awake and sober.
I tried to push it from my mind though as I psyched myself up to face Spencer before taking a few sips of the water, dragging myself out of bed and heading towards the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen.
"Hi," I said quietly when I saw Spencer standing at the stove, frying what appeared to be eggs. "I'm so sorry, Spence."
He turned the heat off on the stove and picked up the pan to slide the eggs onto the plate he had ready before he turned to face me.
"You don't need to be sorry," He insisted, his voice sincere. "I understand why you did what you did yesterday even if I don't agree with it or understand why you never told me."
"I was scared," I confessed, still keeping my voice barely above a whisper as I wrapped my arms around myself. "Telling you what he did for all those years and how scared I was of
him would make it real. I didn't want to think about him still being out there somewhere, not knowing if he was still looking for me."
"Why did he take such an interest in you?"
The look of concentration on Spencer's face mirrored the one I had a blurry memory of seeing at the bar the night before. It was also the look he had when he was looking over files from a tough case, mumbling questions to himself. He was trying to get all the facts, figure out what he was missing and save the day.
"I used to ask myself that every day," I admitted. "He used to send me long, rambling letters, but they didn't make much sense. I always assumed he was on drugs or drunk when he wrote them."
"What did they say? Word for word."
"Spencer, I don't have an eidetic memory. I can't tell you word for word," I smiled softly. "But he told me that someone had seen me run from his room crying that night and then my friend told her brother what I 'claimed' had happened to me and he was kicked out of his fraternity for it. They'd had sex crime scandals in the past or something and weren't interested in risking another one. He lost all his friends and everyone on campus knew so no one would talk to him and he blamed me."
"How long did he send you letters?"
"Until I moved here with Penny," I informed him, trying not to think about how this felt like an interrogation. "So maybe like five years? It wasn't always consistent. Sometimes he'd go months without sending me anything and I'd almost forget about him, but it would always start up again."
"I wonder what made him so obsessed with you..."
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Maybe because he got a rise out of me? I was young and emotional, I started drinking because of it, I let him control me long after the night we met. I think Penny hacked into his computer a few times too, left warnings so he'd know who he was dealing with, but it only spurred him on."
"Did you ever meet him in person? After the night you met, I mean."
I was getting fed up with the lack of emotion behind these questions, but humoured him nonetheless.
"No," I shook my head. "Well, there were a few times that I thought I saw him in the crowd, but never close enough to speak to."
"Strange..."
"It's not just strange," I glared. "It's creepy, it's terrifying and I'm scared."
The crack in my voice seemed to bring Spencer back to reality and he moved around the counter to pull me into his arms.
"You don't need to be scared," He said firmly. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"I know," I mumbled into his chest. "But he doesn't actually do anything to me. He just makes me live with the constant threat that he could. I can't live like that again, Spencer, I can't."
"You won't have to," He insisted. "We don't even know if he came here because of you. It really could just be a horrible coincidence, but if you see him again or he sends you anything at all, you need to tell me."
"I will, I promise."
I tried to take myself out of Spencer's arms, but he held me tighter to his chest.
"Don't lie to me again and disappear to some horrible bar, not answering your phone and getting yourself drunk like that."
"I won't," I assured him. "I know it was a bad call."
"I was worried about you," He confessed, his face burrowed in my hair. "I've never seen you like that."
"Now you know what I mean when I say Penelope Garcia is a saint for all she put up with," I joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "That wasn't the worst of it, from what I remember last night was pretty mild."
Spencer frowned at that information.
"Well talk to me next time, okay? I come to you when we have a bad case or I'm having a hard day with my cravings. That goes both ways."
"I know," I nodded. "I was just surprised. Like, surprised doesn't even cover it. I didn't know what to do and I panicked. But I'll come to you next time, I don't like drinking like that anymore. I swear I have changed."
"I know you have," He assured me, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my lips. "We all mess up sometimes."
I offered him a weak smile and we stayed in each other's arms until my stomach grumbled loudly enough to disturb us.
"Did I, uh, see you making eggs earlier?" I asked sheepishly.
"You did," Spencer laughed. "But I would assume they're cold by now. I'll make us some more."
I smiled and sat on the bar stool next to the island as Spencer went back over to the stove, stopping momentarily by the sink to hand me another glass of water.
It would be different this time. I wasn't going to let him use fear to control me because I wasn't alone. I had Spencer and an entire team of FBI agents in my corner and no creepy rapist stalker was going to bring me down...or so I thought...
Note: I've been writing up a storm! Have a few chapters lined up so I won't post them every day, but should hopefully be able to post at least once more before I go on vacation!
Enjoy and thanks for the love!
