"Right, okay then,"Spencer agreed simply as Gert rushed out of the room with the urgency of someone being chased. It was really quite curious to be honest and it slightly alarmed Spencer, but with Gert's stony face it was hard to determine what the man could be thinking, whether it good or bad, virtuous or not. Spencer chewed on his bottom lip and looked over to the office where hushed voices were whispering. He furrowed his brow at the thought of Gert's words. It was a valid question; what was going on in there and his curiosity peaked, but he shoved it back down, knowing that whoever was talking had wanted to keep things a secret. Furthermore, he trusted everyone here so why should he know of anything and everything? He was in no position to demand information.
Besides, he reminded himself, Gert was waiting for him in the garage they had weakly constructed in the back of the Freedom Tower. Without a second thought to the murmurs, Spencer positioned himself behind his shoes and slipped them over his heels, humming melodiously to himself as he did so. After slamming his heels into the tile a couple times to get his shoes secure over his feet, he cleared his throat and walked out of the room at a brisk pace. He certainly didn't want Gert to leave without him and with the speed that he left, he could already be halfway there. Gert had the strength and endurance Spencer's wiry frame lacked. It was characteristics like this that Spencer wondered how he was with the Phoenixes. How his weaknesses weighed down on his own potential. Therefore, while he couldn't throw a punch very well or shoot a gun without risking the people around him, he practiced other useful trades such as auto mechanics. His mind immediately popped to Gert's motorcycle, one of the few things he had brought with him from his past life as a Maniac.
"Huh, well maybe I can think of something to bring up as a conversation topic. Maybe this won't be so bad. Yeah, this'll be great, we'll have a great day. Buy some supplies, get some stuff for his motorcycle, perfect day," Spencer babbled to himself stupidly, trying to hype himself up for the day ahead, hoping the positive words would demolish and wither up the bad feeling that swirled around his head and shoulders with the persistence of a swarm of starving mosquitoes, but the words fell flat and made no difference at all. With a frustrated sigh and a twitch at the corner of his mouth, Spencer continued down the winding stairs until he landed on the first floor and turned to jog to the back of the building, humming a cheerful tune to himself until he came upon the storage room that housed the garage. He swung open the door with a graceful flamboyancy and a grin on his face.
"Ready to go, Gert! Whenever you-." Spencer's words cut off as he looked around the dim room and saw no sign of Gert at all. In this pause however, he heard weak words in the corner, words from a voice of sorrow. Spencer furrowed his brows and walked carefully around Gert's sleek bike, looking for the source of the murmurs. When Spencer caught sight of the man in the corner, he had almost overlooked him twice. With his dark clothes, it was nearly impossible to tell Gert was curled up in the corner.
"'Ey, Gert, you alright, man? What's wrong?" he demanded as he strode over to Gert, his hand hesitating for a second before lightly shaking his shoulder. Spencer thought he almost caught what Gert was saying, it sounded like a name, but he couldn't be sure and decided maybe he shouldn't ask about it.