❝spencer, all this week you've been holding my hands. what about your germ thing?❞
❝you were more important.❞
hazel finley is a liar. but she's a damn good one. and she's especially good at telling when other people are lying. she's the newest memb...
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❝Is there another life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be, we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.❞
JOHN KEATS
✩
4.0 : virginia supermax prison
OR
season 5, episode 8 : outfoxed
FIN PULLS UP TO THE DOWNEY HOUSE AT THE SAME TIME SPENCER DOES. The minute she sees him step out of his car, the warm fluttery feeling of seeing him for the first time in four days bursts like a balloon in her stomach. She smiles as she steps out of her car. "Hey, you."
Spencer, who's using only one crutch now, smiles back shyly, shutting his own door. "Hey." He looks so handsome in his red sweater vest, shoulder-length curls golden in the morning sunlight.
Fin checks to make sure none of the others are around–not even at the scene yet, those slackers–before hurrying over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "I missed you. How was California?"
Spencer kisses the top of her head, his free hand tight around her waist. "Mm, it was great. Dr. Fallon's lectures are always informative, but this one was especially so. Something about a nonviolent psychopath using his own experiences is really so different than anything else."
"I love it when you talk genius," Fin murmurs, pulling him in for a kiss, their first in days. He tastes sweet, probably the truckload of sugar in the cup of coffee she can see in his car.
Spencer pulls away first, albeit reluctantly, and gestures to the house, his eyes still on her lips. "We should probably go in."
"Ready to fight crime?" Fin sighs, taking his bag from him, sliding her hand into his, and swinging it gently. "I know I'm not."
They walk together up the long driveway to the Downey house and inside. There's no one in the house, and it's eerily quiet as Spencer and Fin walk into the kitchen. Fin sets Spencer's bag down on the floor, inhaling sharply at the dried bloodstain on the floor.
Spencer squeezes her hand. "You okay?"
"Yeah...blood just always gets me a little. Like I'm used to it, but...somehow it's new every time." Fin's eyes drift from the blood on the tile to the living room beyond, the toys still covering the coffee table, and her stomach churns uncomfortably. A happy family...
Spencer pulls her away from the kitchen into the hall, his eyes scanning everything in sight, and then towards the back door, where Fin can see the edge of a pool, glistening turquoise in the sunlight.
It's a beautiful morning, wind barely blowing, sun warm on their backs, but Fin can't fully appreciate it, not knowing that an entire family was murdered three days ago in this house.
