⚠︎︎TRIGGER WARNING⚠︎︎ ⚠︎︎Grief, excessive drinking, and angst.⚠︎︎(A/n: Get your sad playlist up kids!) ☁︎︎
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☁︎︎ March 2010
You had spent the last week doing nothing, once you were released from the hospital, you got into your bed at home, and barely left it for weeks.
You didn't want to move, You felt lost, broken, and in one of the darkest places you had ever been in.
Spencer wanted to help you but there was very little he could do. He was grieving too, but the most prominent feeling he was experiencing was fear. He feared he was losing you, he feared grief would change you forever.
One day after he had come back from work, he found you sitting on the floor of the kitchen, crying hysterically. You had drunk an entire bottle of whiskey and were now sipping a glass of wine, drowning your sorrows in alcohol.
Approaching the situation carefully, he walked up to you slowly and took the glass out of your hands. Then he sat down next to you and lay you down, resting your head on his lap.
"I-It's n-not fair" you slurred.
"I know" Spencer whispered stroking your head.
"It's n-not f-fairrrr" You repeated rolling off his lap and pushing yourself up onto your feet. Spencer stayed close by in case you fell over.
As stumbled around the kitchen aimlessly, your hand knocked a glass off the counter. It smashed to the floor, breaking into tiny little pieces.
Sighing audibly, you crouched down and began recklessly picking up the shards of glass, completely ignoring the practice of caution.
"Don't worry I'll do that, let's get you to bed" Spencer murmured resting his hand on your lower back comfortingly, but you didn't listen. "Y/n stop, you're going to hurt yourself"
He watch how reckless your movements were, you were also drunk and you definitely couldn't see straight.
He tried to grab your wrist to stop you, but you retracted away from him, stumbling back, then falling forwards. Using your hands to stop you from hurting yourself more, they collided with the shards of glass on the floor, cutting them badly.
You didn't, you stayed in the exact position that you had fallen in, keeping your now bleeding hands in the broken glass.
Quickly Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you away. Once you were semi-standing up, he picked you up bridal style and rushed you into the bathroom.
He sat there for almost 2 hours picking out all the tiny shards that had impaled themselves into your palms.
He then helped you wash, re-dressed you then carried you into his bed, so that he could clean your bedroom while you slept.
