What We've Become

Chapter Twenty: Thanks For The Memories

Chapter Twenty: Thanks For The Memories

Cody's POV:

For any situation anyone finds themselves in, they quickly realize there are upsides and downsides. For example, the upside of the gloomy situation surrounding Spencer was that she woke up from the temporary comatose she was trapped in. The downside was that she didn't remember anything. She was still trapped, just in a different way.

All Cody wanted was for Spencer to remember who he was. He wished her smile would once again reach her eyes. He hoped that the cloudy look in her electric blue orbs would vanish faster than it arrived.

As he stared at her sleeping form, he was half-glad that she was back, but he still melancholy since she wasn't REALLY back. He would only be able to breathe right again when she was fully his once again. Not just physically, but mentally as well.

Spencer stirred in her sleep, whimpering slightly, her eyebrows creased as if in deep concentration, and Cody could only guess that she was trying to remember her life before the surgery.

Before she became the Spencer that Cody couldn't recognize.

All of a sudden, her eyes snapped open and fluttered around the room until her piercing gaze met his own. She visibly relaxed, and her quick, shallow breaths became more even and steadier.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Cody teased her, taking her morning bed head into account. He knew Spencer would never be a morning person, but her appearance and manner were almost comical.

"Morning," she returned the greeting, sighing before lying back down and running her fingers through her tangled blonde locks.

"What were you dreaming about?" Cody asked curiously, sitting back in his chair, crossing his left leg over his right knee and folding his hands behind his head.

"I think it was my parents," Spencer mumbled quietly.

That piqued Cody's interest instantaneously. He leaned forward in his chair to listen more intently, motioning her with his hands to continue.

"I saw myself when I was five years old," Spencer began. "I was being driven home from kindergarten by a scary woman whose face I couldn't quite make out. When we reached the house at the end of the street, I was pushed inside a house with a blurry, drunken man and a broken bottle he held looming over my head, and I was watching all of it happen like a ghost on the outside.

"Next, I was ten years old, hair so thin and short I was practically bald and as thin as a twig, and again, the two people were there, their figures hard to see. This time, the woman also had something in her hand - a black, leather belt.

"After that, I think I was fifteen, and that time, when they had finished with their fun abusing me, I ran out of the house with a liquor bottle," she took a deep breath in before continuing. "That's where you came in. You helped me get through it. Every single time. Have I ever told you thank you?"

Cody chuckled quietly to himself, remembering each and every time she had thanked him for all of the small things he had done to help her. "Countless times. Over and over again. I think I now have a phobia of the words because I've heard you say them too many times."

"Well, I feel like I've never done it since I can't really remember anything yet, so thank you," she smiled at him, and he couldn't help but grin back.

"So you remember your parents?" Cody questioned, internally doing jumping jacks and somersaults because she remembered something.

"Vaguely," she answered. "It was hard to see them. But I feel like there's this huge block in my mind, and it's only starting to open up now. But it's not there yet, so we'll just have to take it slowly day by day."