ROSES AND SUNSETS

when spencer asks for water, leon is already removing his sketchbook from his lap and setting it down carefully. the peaceful portrait of spencer that he was working on is set aside for a moment. he’s careful of the monitors as he reaches for the plastic cup beside the bed, checking it almost automatically before pouring a little fresh water from the designated pitcher. one hand slides behind spencer's shoulders enough to spare him from straining against the mattress. 

"small sips," he murmurs. "your throat's going to be sore, they had- to" he waits awhile as spencer drinks, patient enough to let the silence do what words can't. "you needed the machine to help you breathe while they worked on you." it was so nice to see spencer without that scary intubation tube.

only once the coughing eases does leon reach bring the pitcher close once again for a refill. hospital light filters through the blinds in pale bands across the floor, catching on the untouched coffee beside him—cold now, forgotten hours ago. at spencer's introduction, something almost resembling a smile finds leon's face.

"...hi, spencer." a pause. "i wish we'd met under different circumstances." his gaze drops briefly to his own hands before returning.

"you've been here..." he thinks for a second, counting backward through sleepless visits that have blurred together. "...a few days, almost a full week."

the question he'd been expecting arrives sooner than he thought it would. did i die? leon doesn't answer immediately, because he wants to answer it carefully. "well ...yeah." his voice remains gentle with a twinge of regret lacing each syllable. "you did." another quiet beat. "but only for a little while." his eyes wonder across the flooring of the room as the guilt began to flood across his face. "i tried really hard to make sure your blood stayed in your body, but it was..." he can't force himself to look at spencer, it hurts too much. "it was a lot."

his fingers absentmindedly smooth a crease in his trouser leg. "but the paramedics got your heart started again, and were able to give you a transfusion" he leaves out the frantic compressions. the shouting. the blood. the feeling of spencer's hand slipping from his own.

but those memories don't belong in this room.

"they said you were very lucky." his expression softens, though the tiredness around his eyes never quite leaves, “so were the rest of us."

silence settles again— after a moment leon leans forward slightly.

a faint exhale escapes him, almost a laugh in how relieved it sounds, “I’m just..." he searches for the right word. "...glad you woke up."

only then does he realize he'd been holding his breath since spencer first opened his eyes. he lets it go slowly, “so... welcome back."

“oh…i had a feeling. it…it smells like one.” his eyes squint against harsh lights of the room. even if it weren’t bright, he wasn’t ready to open them. “i was somewhere else. somewhere peaceful and with…” he trails off trying to see if he could remember where he was. spencer did, but he also didn’t want to forget.

his vision is still blurry, but he can make out the other moving to get water. he can’t help running his tongue over his sore lips to get some moisture. it was nice to have someone kind of enough to help him out. he has to wonder if he would’ve woken up alone if leon wasn’t in the room. it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he was alone. he can’t remember the last time his siblings were allowed to check on him. it made him upset that they weren’t there. but at least he wasn’t alone.

“alright…” he whispers before slowing taking a sip of the water. the other is right. it does burn his sore throat as it goes down. it causes him to grimace slightly in pain. but it also feels good. it almost felt like he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while. which he hadn't. "when did they take it out? how long did they take to....save me?"

he has so many questions to ask, but he isn't sure that leon has the answers that he seeks. it'd be easier to get a nurse or a doctor. spencer just wasn't ready to be poked at or touched by strangers. he knew they were there to keep him alive. he just wasn't ready yet. he was too scared to let anyone know besides leon that he was finally awake.

"nice to meet you, leon." he thinks he's smiling back at leon. he isn't quite sure. his face feels numb, almost to a point that it's hard to really have movement. like even smiling made him winch from the sudden sharpness of the stitches trying to expand. so he stops trying to smile back and only gives leon a slight wave with his fingers. "i do too, but now we have a story to share. and maybe we'll have a friendship that will get better from here." after all, spencer thinks you can't just abandon someone who you saved and saved your life in return. it's only fair to keep them close. "maybe in eventually we can look out for each other." he speaks lightly, his eyes trying to stay open. it's hard since all he wants to do is rest them. "a full week?" he's been out of it for that long. and yet none of his family came to see him? don't be dumb, spencer, you know they're not your family. his mind tries to tell him. he simply ignores it, trying to focus on leon.

he feels the tears before they start to form at the corner of his eyes. he knew he had died, but leon actually confirming it, well that made it feel all too real. why didn't he just stay dead? "i think i knew...that i did. i'm actually not surprised. it was a bad attack, right?" his head nods slowly back and forth. he takes in a heavy breathe of air that simply hurts his chest as his lungs expands. "only a little while was enough to let me see them." spencer manages to get his eye open enough to look at his new friend. "but...but thank you for trying. you kept me alive for as long as you could. i'm sorry though, that i bleed all over you. i didn't mean to." and that's when the first sob was released. it was shaky enough to cause a shatter through his body. it shakes through him as he tries to adjust himself in the bed, arm going over his eyes to hide the tears he knew were going to fall. "i'm sorry...so sorry."

"yea..they did?" he wipes his eyes with the back of his wrist, trying to stop the tears that were falling on their own now. he hated crying because the last thing he wants is to make leon more uncomfortable than he already is. "waking up in pain is luck? having to deal with...with..." with edward he thinks to himself as the words trail off. why bring up more trauma when he's already suffering. "i'm glad your ok, leon. it was my goal to protect you as much as i could. we both made it."

"i'm glad i woke up too...i get another chance, right?" he smiles this time being able to keep it for a bit without it hurting him too much. there's a light chuckle that escapes him when leon says welcome back. "thank you. it's nice to be back, but...where are they? my...my parents?" not the alive ones, the adopted ones. no. where were his biological parents? he saw them, right?

was it real or was it a dream? his mind fades back into a haze, takes him between a realm of reality and what wasn't real. maybe it had a lot to do with dying. whatever it was, it sends him into another fit of sobs.

"i saw them. they...they came to me." he looks around the room, trying to see if he could still see his parents. but they weren't there. not seeing them made his heartache and he felt his eyes swell up with tears. "where did they go?" spencer turns to look at leon. his eyes begging for an answer that he knew the other couldn't give. it started to settle in again that he wouldn't see them. not at least until he finally passed himself. and that ache of knowing he couldn't see his parents made him start to sob harder than he already was. it hurts to cry, but he can't help it. they were gone. "where did they go?" he asks leon again despite knowing the answer.

his parents were never really there.

DJO in Forest Hills, 7/17/26

He will always devour criticism of Augustu, perpetually delighted to uncover another piece of evidence confirming what an appalling man he'd been. While Edward knows he's hardly winning any awards for his own parenting - it pays to retain at least some self-awareness - he's also aware he's nothing like the Vitelli patriarch, endlessly grateful for the distinction. The Weisses are a fucking catastrophe, certainly, but the stories he's heard about Augustu's treatment of his children only reinforces his suspicion that the man was fundamentally irredeemable. He seemed to take genuine pleasure in making his offspring miserable, despite constantly producing more, as though the next child would somehow be the one who didn't disappoint him. It apparently never occurred to him that perhaps the problem was the impossible expectations he'd placed upon them. Edward shares that particular flaw, but at least he only traumatised three kids. Augustu appears to have traumatised a small army.

"Why would he hate you?" Genuine curiosity rears its head, as much as Edward doesn't want it to. "Because you wouldn’t blindly follow him into organised crime?" It’s something he still begrudgingly has to respect Spencer for, even if he remains thoroughly confused by the notion of someone willingly turning away from power in favour of an honest, nauseatingly earnest existence. Or perhaps less so nowadays; his entanglement with Sophia has made him wonder whether that kind of life might be possible for him too, although, judging by the fact that he’s currently here terrorising Spencer, his metamorphosis remains largely theoretical. "Well. I talk a lot of bullshit." He’s unable to resist the inevitable joke, or the faint smirk that accompanies it: "Allegedly."

Did you know I died? He hadn’t known, though he isn’t entirely sure, when all is said and done, that it changes anything. There is, however, that same inconvenient twist of guilt he’s been plagued by lately, heavy in his chest. "Don’t be silly, Spencer. Corpses are notoriously poor conversationalists. I try not to speak to them." He already knows that, in the event of Spencer’s demise, he'd simply find someone else to pursue the debt, far too stubborn to allow even death to interfere with his tireless commitment to being a menace. "I’d find someone else. Perhaps a friend of your parents. I mean, I know they had friends because their funerals certainly weren’t sparsely attended." More bullshit? Or had he actually been there? Had he been invited, or had he simply shown up to gloat? Like the suggestion that the Vitellis murdered the Whitlocks, it's offered primarily for entertainment, another thread to pull loose until Spencer can't tell facts from fiction.

Weirdly enough, he actively prefers the defiance to submission. It's easier not to feel so guilty when Spencer is snapping back at him; anger has always been much simpler to justify than fear. "I wanted to know what you knew about my family because I intend to make you work for us." It's accompanied by a perfectly pleasant smile, his tone conversational and light, as though he’s discussing one of Lenore’s weather predictions rather than outlining a plan designed to ruin Spencer’s life. "You were evidently a bad Vitelli, but perhaps you’ll make a better Weiss." A half-hearted eye roll follows Spencer’s implication, once again, that he knows something Edward doesn’t. He attempts, as he did at the rodeo, to appear completely unaffected; a soft, derisive snort as he settles further back into the chair. "I highly doubt there’s anything in this city I don’t know about. If anything, I wish I knew less sometimes. However, seeing as I’ve told you what I intend to do with you, I think it’s only fair that you enlighten me about the one thing I supposedly don’t know."

“You’re just telling me lies, Edward. We both know you’ll find someway to make the debt higher. I don’t even have to insult you.” Yet he decides to stop. He’s stuck in the grips of the snake already. No matter what he does, Spencer feels like he’ll only dig himself deeper. He could breathe wrong and he feels like Edward will still add to it. “How is calling you a snake being rude when you said yourself you like them? Wouldn’t it be a compliment?”

there's a nod from spencer, he lets out a breath of air that he didn't realize he was holding. "yeah," his words are short, but come out in a gasp as if he's trying to catch his breath. maybe spencer was. he wasn't able to breath on his own while unconscious. he could still be having difficulties breathing. the oxygen tubes in his nose are a sign. "i was told i was a disappointment for not following into line like the others. they didn't really say, but....its obvious they did." or at least that's what he told himself. he doesn't need people like edward telling him much of a loser he was when spencer sometimes told himself that all the time. maybe that's why it's been easy for edward to get into his mind. he was already there destroying it himself and making himself believe things that were true. "ha yea you do talk a lot of bullshit. no point in trying to hide it, huh? even if you say allegedly." he shrugs, fully understand he needs to be careful with what he says to edward, but yet finding him not caring what the other says. it's like no matter what, the debt will go higher. if spencer breaths wrong, or looks at edward the wrong way, there's a guarantee it'll go higher in price. whatever that price is of course.

spencer places the water in his hands down onto the tray in front of him. he moves to adjust himself so that he's sitting up straighter in the bed. "you sure about that?" he softly bites down on his bottom lip, nibbling slightly as he looks at edward; maybe really looks at him since the other man came fully into his orbit. his pale skin was just as ghostly as his eyes were. those bright blue eyes that felt like they were piercing through spencer's soul. maybe they were. he always felt like he was on display for the older man. spencer was less emotional this time around. he could see edward more clearly now. he had to just to see that the other was human and not like them.

"that's funny, sir. but what if some corpses do talk back, hm? the ones that go bump in the night that no one is supposed to know about?" his voice is barely above a whisper. he doesn't want anyone to hear their conversation. spencer doesn't need someone to hear what he knows or how he found out the truth. he sort of wishes that after what happened, he never took that turn that led him to the underground to find out how the truth of the rumors he heard. "there's no friends. no one's left besides me. so you probably won't get your money back if i had died." the valdez were left. they took him into their lives. he snickers at the idea of edward going to them to pay back his debt if he had died. "how...how do you know there were a lot of people there? were you there, edward? why would...were you?"

"wh--what? no--no." his voice comes out a tad nasally from the sudden snot that filled up behind the tubes in his nose. he's forced to swollen them down since he didn't really see a way to get rid of them. his head shakes rapidly, eyes wide with disbelief at what edward's intentions are. "no. i won't work for you. i won't. i don't care what you do to me. i'm not working for your family!" his voice raises a little too high. the heart monitor starts to make noise again as his chest pounds with his heartbeat that feels like it's trying to keep up with his heart trying to escape. "...i didn't want to work for my family. why would you think i'd agree to work for yours?"

the smile on edward's face makes him feel sick. his stomach knots in twists and he feels like he wants to throw up. how can edward think he'll go from not wanting to work for the valdez, to agreeing to work for the sloane? bad valdez or not, he won't do that. he can't. "like you said, i was never a valdez. but a sloane....you'll see that i'm a disappointment and will want to get rid of me." there's a pause. his fingers are clenching onto the bed handles, turning white as he tries to get through the anger he suddenly feels. "you'll just have to kill me before i ever work for you, sir. there's no fucking way i'm working for you." he sneers out, hearing his voice raise again; and still finding it hard to breath. he forgets that he has to share his own news as he takes deep breath to hopefully stop a panic attack he feels coming.

DJO

She made the food while she considered her questions. It wasn't every day that you heard through the grape-vine that one of your own was talking to the ones in charge. It was a different thing when Nikki did it, or her two companions, they were experts now at speaking to those in charge as if they had no idea. "I heard you saved one of the children of the Valdez family," she said. "How did that happen?"

She served the tortilla and took a seat herself, moving a cup of steaming jasmine tea towards him.

"you heard? where did you hear it from?" he asks, taking a drink of the jasmine tea she gave him. of course he drank it too soon and it burnt his tongue a little bit. but hey, the chance to clear his thirst was desired. and also his mouth was clear of food, so he had no choice but to tell her. dakota clears his throat a little, placing the cup of tea onto the table. "how did it happen? well the kid has like no security on him or in his record store. so it would've been easy for him to get attacked. also get robbed from."

dakota turns to look at nikki. he doesn't really know how to tell her about what happened. he's still confused about it himself. "it happened fast. i was browsing through the records he has. it was quiet. then two guys came in and held him up for money." dakota shrugs his shoulders, head shaking slightly. "its obvious no one trained the kid to fight, so i did it for him. no big deal."

he still wonders how the news of the event got out. maybe there was a witness he didn't see. either way, it was out and nikki needed to know.

She should've told him to go home.

But she didn't.

The gulit kicks her and it's only subsided by the scuffling she hears in the alley she's approaching. At first she freezes, a breeze flowing through her hair as she listens. Someone is in trouble. Two people are in trouble. Sophia looks around, trying to locate the closest payphone but she's pretty sure it's four blocks back the way she came.

However, the struggle is muffled. She's unsure if it's just someone drunk or if someone's actually in trouble. She doesn't want to call the police and have it be for nothing. She takes in a deep breath and rounds the corner, swallowing hard at the sight before her. There's a fear that crashes into her, one she hadn't felt in years, one she only felt when stepping on holy grounds she no longer belonged to, but it's tenfold.

She'd seen dead bodies. She'd been in many a code at the hospital both in her internship and her current position at Horizons. She knows by the blank stare that's glinted in the moonlight that there is a dead body in front of her. And the man yelling at her is the culprit. It's different from what she's encountered before. Self-inflicted death is different; it has more nuance than whatever it is she just witnessed. All the same, her stomach turns, eyes widen and fill with tears.

he sees the young woman's reaction to what she saw. it was far to predictable how she'd react. not everyone is made to see the things that he has to see. hell, the life of a hunter is hardly what constantine wants for himself. he should feel a little symphony for her, but instead he feels a bit of annoyance. he's totally used to it by now for. having been in her position when he first started. yet, all constantine wants to do is leave her alone and go on about his night. but he can't do that. she's seen too much and he needs to make sure she understands what she saw. she seems the age of his daughter. perhaps he can train her like them.

knowing that plunging a stake into the heart isn't enough, constantine takes out lighter fluid and a match from his hunting back pack. he pours the fluid over the corpse. like a routine he somehow came up with for himself, constantine takes out a cigarette from his pocket. he strikes the match against the match box and lights his cigarette. he takes a long drag of it before he tossing the lit match onto the body of the vampire. his eyes hold the glow of the fire before him as he stands watching the body burn. the last thing he needs is the vampire deciding to suddenly come back. even though he knew it was impossible, he couldn't take a risk.

the cigarette still hanging from his mouth, constantine finally turns around to look at the young woman. "you done?" he asks, still keeping his distance from her; not wanting her to run away when all he wanted to do was talk. "i mean..." he clears his throat, trying to remember the times his girls told him to be patient. which was very hard for him to do. instead he takes three breaths and counts to four before moving slowly towards her. "are you alright? is this your first time seeing a vampire?"

The answer left him with a face of pity, watching the other closely and wondering why anyone would not help someone who was injured. But he was naive, in many ways. Sunny always felt like helping. He was the class clown, but when push came to shove, he'd always be first in line to offer guidance, advice, or simply a hand.

"Of course!" he said, moving into the room and reaching out. "But don't worry, I'm actually a master at this, I can do it all by myself! You should rest," he told Spencer, giving him a wink. "Sit down, somewhere, take a breather." He took the sheets and started the job, pulling everything off first. "Where's the new linnens?" he asked.

it's been a long time before anyone has seen spencer with limited clothes on. even before he got attacked, he wasn't with many others. he was told he was hot or good looking, but sometimes it was hard for him to believe what others said. and now with all his scars, he felt even more less confident in someone else seeing him. spencer would admit that the scars didn't quite make him look appealing anymore. but yet he had no desire to get rid of them. they were his own reminder that maybe he's a good guy.

he does drop the blankets onto the bed, feeling the little strength he had before the other walked in. spencer had received no help from his family. yeah there were maids, but spencer didn't really like them intruding on his space. so far this guy, maybe his name was sunny, was the only one that spencer hasn't tried to kick out of his room. he seemed like the only one who genuinely cared enough to help spencer.

"oh...thank you." he can't help the bright smile that graces his features. it was almost like he was reacting to the first person who actually noticed him. "i am pretty winded. my strength isn't quite strong yet." spencer listens to the other and slowly makes his way to sit on his couch. did he just get winked at? he probably did and well he can't help looking down shyly before looking back up. "um yea, the new linnens are on the night stand. next to the bed. that's...that's as far as i gotten before you came in." he tells the other as he points at the blue linnens he picked for himself.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s wrecked his lungs with a smoking habit just to avoid answering things he doesn’t want to answer. Cigarettes are always an excellent ploy: a drag when he doesn’t know how to respond, ash tapped to the floor while he thinks, expressions disappearing behind smoke before they can give anything away. It makes everything he says feel deliberate, even when he’s faltering - like now. Edward doesn’t know what to say, so he takes a drag. There seems very little point in lying, but not challenging it feels worse. "Of course I care about people. Haven’t you heard about my charitable endeavours?" Rich people nonsense, optics and nothing more. Cut a few ribbons and smile for the cameras, pretending you’re helping your city whilst flooding it with drugs and misery. “I particularly care about people who leave me the fuck alone. They’re my favourite."

My self control is lacking. Bad things will happen. Frankly, Edward usually operates under the belief that a little bloodshed brightens most occasions, and he’d welcome the chaos. But there are people here he actually cares about and that, more than anything, is what keeps him from letting the subject drop.

"Bad things as in a broken nose from riding the bull too enthusiastically, or bad things as in... people would be in danger if you went into the club? My friend’s working there tonight." Calling Sophia a friend, when the sensation of briefly holding her hand still burns against his skin, sits uncomfortably in a way he can’t quite smooth over. An instinctive step back when Lacey takes one forward, but it’s pointless; they’re still too close. "Do you mean people riding the bull? Because yes, there’s been a lot of blood. Some of it looked brutal."

“Me? Being rude? Oh, no sir. You’re mistaken. If anything, I’m being honest.” Lacey’s not close to the other, but he still steps back; a mock look of disbelief lingering on his features and a hand over his chest. Lacey lets out a laugh that rumbles from deep within him. “Then why did you come outside if you didn’t want to talk to anyone, hmm?” It’s astonishing that Edward thinks he’s keeping him there. Lacey knows though that if Edward tries to run, the old man wouldn’t get very far. He may look like a simple weak human, but in reality, Lacey was a predator. He did it for the wrong reason. Still he needs to attempt to embrace what he is. Even if he doesn’t like how Edward smells, it doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun. “Common people? You’d be surprised if you knew how common I am. I feel like that us common people may know a little more than you; the rich who don’t pay attention to us. I mean you do, but to take control of those who seem worth the hassle. But….” Lacey starts to swagger towards Edward slowly. “I could be wrong, right?” "leave you alone? aw...but you're so fun to toy with, eddie." his movements are slow towards edward. he walks in front of him, his red eyes beaming with bloodlust as his hunger starts to grow stronger. just a nibble won't hurt the old man, will it? just a tiny nibble. he hates himself for even considering it, but he's so hungry that chasing his prey doesn't seem too appealing anymore. the mob boss was here and oh so very close. and if edward decided to run, the vampire would get his chase and meal. he definitely hoped that the other decided to run. "are you trying to convince me or yourself that giving to charity makes you a good person or shows that you care. it doesn't." he lets out a huff of his breathe. "because i see a guy who just likes to lie to get what he wants and lies to get someone to believe anything you tell them. it's better that you know now that i'm not one who'll be easily convinced."

lacey stops walking for a brief moment before he starts to slowly circling around edward. the predator is getting closer to it's prey. his prey. he traces his fangs with his tongue. he does this when he's ready to take a bite or a nibble in edward's case. he doesn't want to hurt the other too much. just enough to get a little blood. maybe his first prey was still around somewhere and he can get fully fed from them. edward was a good choice, but he didn't want to give himself away too much. lacey merely wanted him to question exactly what he was without knowing much.

"or do they? do they smell better than you?" his lips curly into a smirk. lacey tilts his head to the side. his movements have brought him closer to edward; stopping just within reach other older man. "blood and brutality...seems like the perfect way to get a nice, tasty meal." he lifts up his hand towards edward's face. his fingernails trace down edward's face; his fingertips feeling the warmth of the other's body. "i mean, i can go inside and find an easy meal from idiots who ride a bull, but why do that when you're hear, huh?"

with the last words he speaks, lacey draws back his hand. within a flash he pushes his hand back towards edward. his eyes glisten his fingernails scratch themselves down the other's cheek; he laughs as he sees blood seeping from the slashes he left on edward's face. "you don't smell good, but you sure do taste good, eddie boy." lacey slowly licks the blood on his fingers as he looks edward in the eyes. "maybe a nibble is next." he says the last part as he launches at edward, teeth quickly sinking into the flesh of his neck; humming as the blood flows into his mouth.

He isn’t even trying to be cruel; that, perhaps, is the worst part.

Enemies is, of course, putting it delicately, given how much blood has been spilled in the feud, but Edward finds Spencer's framing innocent and oddly amusing. "Well, Augustu liked to say a lot of ridiculous things. Not saying much anymore, though, is he? His silence has been a marked improvement, as far as I’m concerned." I never really understood why. It isn’t the time or place for a history lesson, and besides, Edward can’t be relied upon to be impartial. But he feels obliged to clarify, just a little. "Augustu didn’t like me because, allegedly, I poached people from him." It’s something Edward did very much do - and would do again without hesitation, but applying the word allegedly to things he’s absolutely responsible for is a habit he finds too entertaining to break. "I suppose it didn’t occur to him that he should’ve offered them better reasons to stay."

Sometimes he suspects that was one of the central grievances: not the poaching itself, though that certainly didn’t help, but the fact people chose to leave at all. To side with a scrappy, working-class newcomer over the snobby Vegas elite. Unforgivable, really.

Why do you want to know? He considers it carefully, unwilling to give too much away at once. The element of surprise is always useful; it makes people easier to trap later. In the end, he offers nothing more than one of his usual evasive, utterly insufferable smiles, as if to say, you’ll find out soon enough.

"What happened to you at the rodeo? You look half-dead."

"is it really a suggestion when you don't give others an option? cause it feels like that's what you didn't me, sir." before what happened to him, spencer was terrified of edward. he still was, but he felt a little different. like something changed and at this point maybe he won't let edward get to him that much, or at all. that's at least what's he attempting to tell himself as he lays in bed, watching edward looking at him. he feels like he's being examined, investigated. those cold blue eyes staring at him, seizing up what was done to him. hell if he was in edward's position, he'd be staring too. "maybe they don't care about me. maybe i asked for them to go away. something tells me that even if i had guards you'd still sneak your way in like snake you are."

maybe dying made him a little bold. he felt like he could tell edward anything he still wouldn't be able to hurt him.

"guess he's not." spencer shrugs his shoulders very slowly. he turns his head to look out the window before quickly moving his eyes back to the other. "it's funny how you talk like i actually give a damn about that man. like you can't scare me with your words. newsflash, i'm pretty sure he hated me." he wanted to be scared. to be pissed off at what edward was saying, but he felt annoyed. almost like he couldn't wait until the older man was gone. from this world or just his hospital room? spencer didn't really know. "allegedly? allegedly tells me that you did and that what you're saying is bullshit." spencer once again tries to push the nurse's call button. when it doesn't lite up red, he realizes that maybe he's broke it. his heartbeat races slightly. he takes a few deep breathes to calm himself down. "he didn't find use for those who disappointed him. of course he didn't offer them anything to stay. he didn't offer me anything. instead he took everything."

maybe he shouldn't tell secrets to edward of all people. he knew this. yet, it felt good to hint to someone outside of the family, that augustu didn't give a damn about him once he wasn't useful. why it was edward of all people, spencer will probably never really understand.

he can't help the eye roll when edward doesn't explain what why he wants to know. he was starting to realize that maybe it was typical edward behavior. on top of dying and having to still be in this predicament with the other, edwards idea of not telling him right annoyed him. spencer's head tilts to the said so he can give him a death glare.

"did you know i died?" spencer asks, voice coming out hoarse. "if i actually succeeded in dying, how would you get your money back? ask my corpse for it?" spencer lets out a laugh of his own, suddenly feeling courageous; remembering that he knew something edward didn't. "wouldn't you like to know? you probably just want to laugh at me.” there’s a pause as he clears his throat. “i don't see the point in telling you when you won't tell me why you're asking what i know about your family.” spencer crosses his arms on his stomach best to his ability, without there being too much pain.

“how about you tell me why and maybe i'll tell you about something even the great and powerful edward weiss doesn't know." spencer grabs some water and slowly takes a sip of it as he looks at edward and smirks at him over the cup. he felt powerful in this moment and maybe dying gave him the strength to stand strong against edward weiss.