Collision || A Twilight Fanfic

Chapter 13

Nothing.

She felt nothing.

There had never been a time Spencer could not point out what she was feeling. With a vast understanding of the human psyche, she always knew the clinical term of every sentiment there was and could be — their variations and changes were all committed to her memory. But all she felt was overcome by a gut-wrenching void that took hold of her body. She found herself wishing for the pain she'd felt when Carlisle had first confessed he was a vampire. At least then she had felt something.

She had spent the night at Sam's house, too distraught to go back home. Spencer knew she had fallen asleep on Paul, his warmth the only comfort she could possibly feel in such a confusing situation.

All through the night, her head kept replaying the five stages of grief — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Once the list had ended it would start over again, engraving it in her brain over and over and over again. Her clinical training beat into her the steps she needed to take. But there was no one to take them with.

This kind of grief, she felt, was incomplete. Sure she had not believed Carlisle at first. She'd gone through some type of denial. Yeah, she was enraged at the fact that he left her like she meant less than nothing to him. She'd gone through anger — maybe still stuck there. But who was there to bargain with? He was gone. There was no denial anymore, she was not allowed that much. Spencer wanted at least to feel the overtaking sadness that depression would bring, but she simply felt nothing. And she'd already accepted that he was gone. He'd made sure she understood that much.

No one had taught her how to deal with this. How to deal with the culmination of a relationship with a centuries-old vampire that had promised her eternity together. A vampire that she had fallen completely in love with — her first love, her first kiss, her first... everything. Carlisle had given her everything and just as swiftly taken it away.

"Spence?" Emily's soft whisper rang through the room Spencer had somehow woken up in. "I made some breakfast if you want. I sent a text to your mom to let her know you're okay."

"Yeah, thanks," she responded emotionlessly. "Is Sam back?"

"Yes, honey. He's at the dining table."

"Thanks. I'll be right out."

Emily clicked the door shut, leaving the girl once more to her thoughts. She noticed at the foot of the bed a change of clothes. Probably, Sam's. They were some sweatpants and a T-shirt, a comfortable enough outfit for her. She changed out of the suffocating scrubs she wore, feeling them gripping her body harder than ever before.

Sam's clothes almost hung off her body and she felt like a kid again. After their father had left suddenly, she'd taken to wearing the t-shirts he'd left behind to find some comfort in his absence. But these clothes still had their owner. He had not abandoned her — well, he'd come back.

With dragged feet, she made her way out into the kitchen where hushes were spread around. Spencer knew they'd heard her exiting the room and they had been talking about her. The Cullens leaving was the only thing anyone in the reservation could talk about, and unfortunately, the pack knew that involved her.

"There she is!" Jared exclaimed with a full mouth of food. But his face quickly fell with the burning gaze of everyone else at the table. "What?"

"How do you feel, Spence?" Sam questioned, pulling out a chair for his sister. Somehow, she looked frail. He'd seen her sad before. Hell, he'd been the one to comfort her at six years old when their father left. But even then, she'd been different. Now, she looked fragile enough to break with a simple breath.