This story is wrapping up sooner than I thought. I was going to do a lot more, but then I decided that it would just be a lot of junk that gets in the way of the actual ending. One more chapter to go. (I think.) Surprisingly, I might finish this. That's good because I have half a dozen other things I'd like to start writing about.

Cycles are annoying.

Spencer's PoV

I woke up exhausted but warm and comfortable in a big bed. Confused, I blinked and stretched. Something shifted in response to my movement. Glancing over, I saw Ashley on the bed next to me and felt my anger from the night before flood back.

More than anything else, it terrified me. I wasn't used to this sort of burning anger. Not even my anger at Ashley for leaving could compare. That anger had been laced with desperation, fear, and pain. This time it was pure anger. I was intolerably outraged that anyone would hurt Ashley that way. It made me want to rip off my skin because there was nothing I could do. If I had a had a gun and Ashley's attacker in the room with me at that moment, I couldn't conceive a scenario where I might hesitate before pulling the trigger. Except maybe that such an end was too kind for him. Everything in the room was hazed by fury. My fingers ground into the sheets and mattress uselessly. Then, my eyes fell on Ashley and a hidden emotion clouded into my rage.

Love.

And if love and anger aren't a lethal combination, I don't know what is.

The more I tried to distance myself, the angrier I became. A hand closed on my arm. It was Ashley groping for me in her sleep. I forced my body back onto the mattress and wrapped my arms around her, tense, until sleep blurred away my anger.

The next time I awoke Ashley was staring at me with wide eyes. She jerked when my eyes opened teetered on the edge of the bed for second before bringing most of the sheets with her to the floor. Her stifled cry of pain had me by her side in moments.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she spat with more hostility than I'd been prepared for. Her entire body seemed to tremble as she clambered to her feet. I could see the individual bones of her calves and feet where they peeked out of her robe. Tibia, fibula, tarsals, metatarsals, phalanges. I reached out a hand to steady her, but she pulled away from me and began to walk unsteadily to the hallway.

I grabbed on to her when she nearly fell down the steps.

"Take it easy," I warned her.

"Go away," was her reply.

"And what, let you kill yourself?"

"You obviously want that to happen anyways," she answered in a dismissive tone, refusing to look at me.

"Since when have I ever told you to die?" I said in shock.

"Since the day I got back from Europe." Her words crept through gritted teeth.

"I've said a lot of things, but I know I did not tell you to die."

"Only because you don't care either way." It wasn't fun to see the effect my words had taken on her. I swore to never say things out of nothing but anger anymore.

"Then why didn't I just let Carmen kill you last night?"

"Just leave me alone, okay?"

"I'm sorry, Ash." She smiled without any joy.

"I heard that's a cheap word." I tried not to flinch too much at the stark smile and return of my own words. Her eyes bore into mine and I take the opportunity.

"I don't know what will make it up to you, but whatever it is, I will do it."

"Make what up? You didn't do anything." She was frustrated now. "You didn't decide for anything to happen, you didn't know anything happened".

"I should have found out. I should have realized that something was wrong. I shouldn't have assumed the worst from you. I still shouldn't have said anything given-"

"Given, what?" Her eyes flashed. "If nothing happened then I would have deserved most of it! But something did happen, and you didn't know."

"That doesn't make it okay!" I took a deep breath. "I want to be here for you, Ash. I can't let you deal with this alone. I can't watch you die." Something changed in her eyes, like a realization. I was wondering whether it was good thing or bad thing when she sprang back into her room and locked her door, proving beyond a doubt that it was a bad thing.

"Ashley!"

She didn't respond. I spent about half an hour trying to talk her out of her room. Nothing I did worked. My throat felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper by the time I finally gave up.

With a last reserve of volume I hoarsely called out.

"I love you."

"Spencer?" The voice on the other end of the line sounded confused. Not that I blamed her at all.

"Hey... Kyla," was my forced response.

"Um... what's up?" She asked stiltedly.

"Can you meet me somewhere soon? I need to talk to you about Ashley." I rushed out.

"Uh... yeah. Do you need a ride?" Glancing up, I remembered that I was leaning against the wall of Ashley's house with no way home.

"Yeah, that would be good."

"Where are you?"

"Ashley's" There was a pause before she continued.

"Okay, I'm on my way."

She was horrified.

"That's why she's been so weird? Wait- what actually happened?" Kyla's eyes were huge, but we almost hit a truck since she wasn't using them to watch the road.

"I don't know. She wouldn't talk to me, that's why I got you."

Suddenly, we were doing a bloodcurdling and very illegal U-turn in the middle of the road. Did I mention that this was LA? Well, maybe partly because it was LA, we managed to get back to Ashley's mansion without getting stopped by the police. Frazzled as I was by earlier events, I still sprinted up the empty driveway and was met by a locked front door. Luckily, Kyla had kept her key, and I bounced impatiently while she fumbled it into the hole.

"Ashley!" My throat protested against my screaming, but I ignored it. We raced up the stairs to Ashley's bedroom. The door was open, and the room was a mess. Surprised and panting, we stumbled in and looked around. I picked a piece of paper on the bed.

No.

You can't do this, Ashley. Not again.

"What's wrong, Spencer?"

No. Not now. Not today. I was too late. Didn't do enough. Didn't care enough.

"No." I couldn't stop my face from twisting into sobs. Why couldn't you stay, Ashley?

"What's wrong?"

My fingers crumpled the page.

No.

"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS RUN AWAY!"

I threw the ball of paper at Kyla. She could read it. She could take whatever empty comfort was written there. She could keep it under her pillow and cry herself to sleep every night. All I needed to read were the first few sentences written in her handwriting.

Good-bye Spencer. I have to go away.

Third-Person

Somewhere, Flight 3468 for Covington, Kentucky was rising into the air.

I just realized that some people might think Ashley killed herself. I'd like to clarify that she flew off to Covington, Kentucky, but Spencer doesn't know where she went.