Fuse

twenty - seven | support

K A N E   W A L K E R

I cradle Spencer in my arms, her small hand still clinging onto the material on my t-shirt as though her life depended on it.

"It's okay, baby. Hang on." I tell her as I pace through the automatic doors of the hospital, heading through to the reception.

"M—my.. head." She whispers as she squirms slightly, wincing at her injuries.

My eyes widen as I look down at her, reaching the inside of the hospital. "Help! Someone help!" I yell frantically, carrying her up to someone who runs towards me with a wheelchair.

A man and woman in blue scrubs also make their way towards me as they assist me putting Spencer into the wheelchair. "What happened?" The man asks.

"She was assaulted." I tell him and he nods, bending down to speak to Spencer but her eyes begin to close and her head tips back.

"What's her name?" The woman asks.

"Spencer, her name is Spencer." I say as I run a hand through my hair, struggling to fathom what's actually happening.

I watch as they push her in the chair, instructing other various people on the way. Following them towards a room, I watch as they carefully place her into a bed.

The man walks around and begins examining her, the woman adjusting Spencer's clothing to make it easier for them to tend to her.

I stand back, anxious and fucking terrified of the potential severity of her injuries. What the fuck did he do to her? Why would he do this?

"Hello Spencer, my names Dr Ling, do you know where you are?" The woman asks but Spencer shakes her head, her brows creasing as she shifts  uncomfortably in the bed, clearly in a considerable amount of pain.

"How do you know Spencer?" The woman asks me and I open my mouth to reply but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to say to that?

"She's uh.." I mumble. "She's my friend."

"Blood pressure and vitals are fine." The man says as he continues examining her, pressing buttons the machines and writing things down on a small clipboard.

Dr Ling leaves the room but returns a few minutes later, a woman with her and a small box in her hand, approaching the bed and placing it down at the bottom.

"What's that? What are you doing?"

"It's just procedure, sir." She replies and I narrow my eyes.

"Procedure?" I scoff. "What the hell is that!" I snap, asking again until she gives me the answer that I want.

She sighs, looking up at me. "It's a called a SAFE. An abbreviation for sexual assault forensic evidence. It's a small kit that we use to identify signs of assault."

A lump instantly grows in the back of my throat and I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. She's saying that there's a chance Spencer could have been sexually assaulted? What?

I feel like I'm going to be sick.

I glance over at Spencer in the bed and the expression on her face says it all. The doctors don't even need to do the fucking test for me to know what happened.