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chapter seven ☁︎ -', no worries ꒱ ↷💚 NOVEMBER, 2017
RYAN DOESN'T REALIZE that she doesn't know how to be friends with Spencer until it's entirely too late.
When she agreed to be friends with him that day, it was in the moment and she was thinking, of course we can be friends like we used to before we dated, and then afterwards, Ryan realizes that there wasn't ever really a before. Sure, there were those months where they knew each other and they weren't official, but she and Spencer never acted like friends - they didn't have to, because they had a mutual understanding that it was going somewhere.
So when Spencer comes over to her apartment one day, asking her if she wanted to go with him to get something for dinner since he had just gotten back from a case, part of her freezes in the doorway. Of course she eventually says yes, but the entire time she gets ready, the palms of her hands are sweating and her stomach nearly feels a bit sick.
It's gotten even colder outside, the air nipping through the windows even when the heat is on, so Ryan leaves her apartment in a peacoat and thick denim jeans, wrapping a scarf around her neck to top it off. She meets Spencer in the hallway with a smile, locking her door as they go down to his car.
It's odd to be in his car after so long, but it hasn't really changed. The seatcovers are still navy blue and there's still a tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. When he puts the key in the ignition, the radio still plays the local Top-40s station, and when she tries to roll the window down, she has to push the button twice for it to work. And when she looks over at him, the nostalgia and the streetlights reflecting on his face, it's just so fucking easy.
When it came to Spencer, everything was just always so easy. Talking to him, laughing at stupid jokes and listening to his rambling - somewhere along the way it came as second nature for Ryan. Stupidly enough, the hardest thing about being friends with Spencer was how easy it came to her, because she knew she was dealing with a sticky situation and a slippery slope if she wasn't careful.
Just like Icarus, flying too close to the sun; Ryan found herself staring into his eyes and seeing nothing but the brightness of their past in the reflection, reminiscing on times where she would reach across the table and brush the hair out of his face. Instead, the strands hang until he notices them, and then combs them back with his fingers - it doesn't take long for them to fall back in his face all over again. He looks so different, but still the same inside of her mind, and it's hard to look at him and see anything but someone she used to love.
So when they're eating in the middle of a sports bar down the street, taking the back table near one of the screens, listening to people scream over Football on a Thursday night, it's so nostalgic that Ryan nearly feels sick. She doesn't, though, just simply settling for staring at her plate instead of the man across from her. "How's work?" She asks it as he's watching the television screen across from him, more so as to give his eyes something to look at rather than actually watching the game - the words come out like second nature and it almost makes her chuckle, as to how they got here, feigning normalcy and small talk.
"It's okay," Spencer responds, reaching to take a sip from his glass on the table. "We solved that case in Richmond today - where the chef went missing."
"Really? That's great," Ryan smiles. She remembered seeing it somewhere on social media, the women that went missing. She figured that they had been on the case but she never really knew; their work lives were separate, even if they talked about them sometimes.
She always liked the way he looked over her, waiting for her to tell him about what was on her mind. It was an explicitly Spencer thing to do - right down to the soft furrow of his eyebrows and the way his face was twisted into a permanent ghost of a smile, always barely hanging on the edge of his lips. Ryan always liked that.
Ryan never does, though - never gives in and allows him to peek inside her mind, doesn't tell him about how she's slowly climbing the ranks at work and now Indra wants her to go to a courthouse with him, sit beside him at the bench and all that. Because if Ryan tells Spencer that, it almost seems like she's opening up the door to a million other fucking things and she doesn't think she can handle that; there's a tight lipped smile that adorns her face so the words can't slip out, as she holds them in under lock and key.
Somewhere along the line, Spencer seems to take note that she's not going to speak. They're basking in the silence, listening to people around them and they're both pretending to watch football while eating shitty sports bar food when he finally turns to her and asks, "so, what's your plans for the holidays?"
"My dad's coming down for Thanksgiving," she says, glancing down at the table. "Christmas, I'm flying up there."
It seemed like just yesterday she had flown to Vermont prior to the divorce, coming home to a bitchy mother and a tired father, stirring up a ruckus in their small home. Looking back now, Ryan tries to push the guilt down, swallow it like the lump in her throat, but it's nearly impossible to do when you're the entire reason your parents split.
It's even harder when you get kidnapped, and all you want is for your mom to hug your head in her chest, swipe her thumb across your cheek and wipe the tears and blood away. Ryan didn't ever think of Jessica Jennings but when she was laid on the floor of the cabin with a knife buried in her stomach, the woman's face was all she thought about, embarrassingly enough. She almost wondered if her mom thought about her, too - if she thought of her as a living, breathing, daughter, or if she silently mourned her as a corpse.
If immortality were real, Jessica Jennings would want it. She would see the opportunity of living forever and want it so badly, because she's so afraid of dying and so afraid of being gone that she would rather outlive everyone she's known than die early, die too soon. That's the real reason she despises her daughter so much, Ryan knows. Because although Athena died too soon, it didn't stop her from living, it didn't make her want to live forever. It had only made her want to live with purpose.
Ryan wonders what Jessica is up to now. If she's still teaching, if she's happy in their house. She can't picture her mom standing in front of the mantle, looking at photo albums and crying over pictures from their childhood, but maybe she does - maybe Jessica is human in that regard, even if she was a wicked bitch in every other walk of life.
Spencer seems to notice the empty look that takes over her eyes, because he begins talking again. "Yeah, I'm going to Vegas, I think." He says it with uncertainty, grimacing. "But I don't know, we've had a lot of cases lately. I might not make it."
"Is Diana doing any better? How is she?" The subject should be sore, especially after all that's happened, but Ryan knows that his mother will always bring a smile to Spencer's face. And she does.
"She's doing a lot better," Spencer grins. "She's back in Vegas and seems to like it, and the medicine is working... I just wish I could have her out here, you know?"
"Yeah," Ryan says, nodding and pressing her lips together. After all they had been through, she can't imagine the pain of having to send her back to where she was in the first place. Prison time, trauma, a dead caretaker and too much blood spilled - just for him to have to turn around and reverse everything he had done. Sure, the prison time was more than enough punishment, but Spencer also had to live with the fact that everything went to shit for nothing, basically. "I bet she'll be glad to see you."
Spencer looks down to his plate, "I hope so."
The rest of the night is spent at the small table, sharing little meaningless words over their food, neither of them drinking but still enjoying themselves. The ride home is soundtracked by pop music and she lets him tell her all about this place in Pennsylvania - his eyes go wide and the grin on his face never falters. The entire way backed to their apartment building, Ryan lets herself get lost in his voice, eyes resting on the road.
If she focuses enough, it almost feels like home.
authors note! we're gonna pretend like this isn't short and like i haven't updated in three weeks. but also like sorry i've just been struggling a lot :(
