Skylar watches him, and he watches, but nothing changes. It’s as if he wants him to just, magically snap back up and be normal again — but really, has he ever been normal? Has Skylar not noticed? How could they be so happy for so long, and then it not be real? —- No. Spencer hasn’t always been like this. He was doomed from the start to fall into it, but he is not hollow. Not this hollow, and, not without help. He just wants to shake him, to yank him back to him, to scream in his face — to wake him up, but he can’t. He would just hurt him. He would scare him further into the pits of fucking hell that he imagines are his poor boy’s mind; and he doesn’t know what to do. Is there anything he can do? I just want to be with you. How can he? It doesn’t make s e n s e. “Are you hearing yourself, Spencer?” It’s not angry. It’s a genuine question — and, in comparison to the last thing he said, much softer. Much more afraid. He’s never been more scared of losing him than he right now, and he hadn’t even noticed the tears rolling down his face and then down onto Spencer’s hand. “You want to be with me. But you’re not here. I am here. I am always going to be here.” His voice is broken as he repeats it back to him, and he’s squeezing onto him harder than before — as if it’ll bring him back. The harder he cries, his lips seem to spread — it’s a bittersweet smile, if it’s anything. “You say that as if you didn’t need me just as much. You say that as if I tried to stop this at all. ——- Look at me. Please, look at me.” "I guess I had it coming, huh?" "Even if you’re — even if you don’t come back, I’ll always be here." "Always."
Are you hearing yourself, Spencer? The words seem to resonate within his skull, bounce back and forth from surface to surface, but when he finally does lift his eyes, it's to stare over Skylar's shoulder rather than rest on his face. He can see them there, waiting -- a thousand different worlds, a thousand different scenarios -- God, he's always been so fucking stuck in his version of reality, he never even noticed how easy it is to blur the lines.
But he doesn't want to blur the lines, does he? He just wants to stop himself seeing them. He wants to be here. He wants to be with Skylar.
"I'm trying to be here. I promise, I'm trying. I'm trying. My head is too loud, Skylar, all the time -- it hurts."
i'm sorry. i don't want it to. i'm just trying to stay. i'm just trying to stay in the best way that i know how to. i don't want to go. i don't want to go, even if it's so much q u i e t e r over there...
He's finally looking at him, but more than that, he's seeing him -- he's seeing him, and he's feeling him, and he's brushing the tip of his nose against his tears like it might get rid of them. Skylar must understand that this isn't him running away, this is him holding on. If he were going to run away, if he were going to let himself do that, then he would be gone already.
Permanently.
"I love you. Just stay." He doesn't know who he's asking to stay anymore.











