Chapter Sixteen

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Authors Note: Okay, so one of my really close friends brought it to my attention that my last chapter was really slow and didn't have a lot of things going on. Thank you all for the votes and comments saying that it was good and you guys enjoyed the update, but I was really soul-searching after she told me and I realized that I probably could have done better so I guess this chapter is my "I'm sorry for not challenging myself and making my story better than I thought it could be." Sorry for the long wait, I was trying to figure out how to put it to make it all work. Buckle up and prepare for a shock!!!

~Carmen's POV~

It had been a week since I came home from the hospital and I was getting really antsy to do something, anything. Spencer hadn't let me to anything for myself. He had taken off of work and was waiting on me hand and foot. When I went to get my stitches out he even buckled my seat belt. I was starting to feel like I couldn't do anything at all.

I sit up on the couch and start to stand up after a moment, being as slow and quiet as I can. I am about to attempt the impossible: going upstairs to our room on my own.

I get to about the fifth stair when I feel a hand on my back. "Where are you going, Carmen?" Spencer asks as he puts my hand on the banister.

"I was going to go up to our room and change out of my pajamas that I've worn for a few days..." I say awkwardly. Does he really not believe I can climb the stairs on my own?

"Without my help?" He questions, proving my point.

"Yes. I was planning on it. It's just changing, I think I can manage." I say through clenched teeth, exasperated with his constant help.

"17 percent of people get injured within the first two weeks of being home after a major surgery." He replies matter-of-factly.

"17 percent?" I question, trying not to glare. Something about Spence constantly trying to keep me safe and not doing anything is really ticking me off. "That's really low. I'll be fine, I'm not fragile." I sigh, gently pushing his hands away from me and climbing the last bit of the stairs on my own. I reach our bedroom and close the door before he can join me.

~•~•~•~•~

I'm standing in the kitchen by the stove watching Spencer cook. He's been brushing me off for the past twenty minutes saying things like "No, it's okay." Or "I got it."

I reach for his arm one more time. "Can I stir?" I ask tentatively. Why am I asking to stir for a second - especially tentatively - in my own kitchen?

"No, it's alright, you could get burned." He says and I curl my hands into fists. Burned?! I could get burned? I sigh loudly and turn on my heel.

"Fine. I'm going upstairs to read a book." I huff and march up the stairs.

"Do you want me to-" he calls but I cut him off.

"No!" I bite back, trying my hardest not to shout. I really don't want to start an argument, I don't trust my anger to not take over.

~•~•~•~•~

After about twenty minutes I am a bit calmer, so I head downstairs where Spencer is waiting for me at the table. Dinner is still steaming and the table is set, I wonder how long Spencer was going to wait before he went upstairs to get me.

He puts his well-worn book away as I sit down and we start to eat in a tense silence.

"How was your day?" It's Spencer who breaks the silence, of course.

"Fine. Yours?" I say politely.

"Well, I missed the BAU but I'm glad to be here, helping you." He replies and I bite my lip to keep from telling him off, the anger bubbling up inside me.

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