I was kind of wary about posting this, since this is one of those things that everyone probably has their own distinct interpretation of, but at length, the lesser half of my mind has won out. I'm taking a shot in the dark as far as Spencer's location (and this the view from his window), so correct me if you know better. Enjoy, please.
Fretful, soft whimpers permeated the otherwise silent apartment. A soft gasp, and the lone occupant's eyes shot open wide.
Slowly, Spencer sat up, breathing heavily. He brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes as he leaned forward, resting his forehead on his palms. His eyes closed, still heavy with sleep, but his mind refused to slow. The scene replayed over and over in his head.
The misty landscape nearly disguised a large, slightly irregular red circle, etched into the ground in front of him. He felt iron shackles on his arms and feet, though he couldn't see anything. In the mists beyond the circle he felt something. He couldn't tell what, precisely, but he felt something. In the middle of the circle, a small bundle of blankets lay, fidgeting now and then. A tiny wail rose from the depths of the cotton swaddling. Immediately, Spencer dove for the baby. At the same time, the monster in the shadows beyond leapt.
And that was when he woke. He always did. The sense of failure at an intangible task always filled him. He couldn't return to sleep.
At length, he swung himself out of the bed and, with a brief glance at the clock, decided that attempting more sleep was useless. He wrapped himself in a dark blue robe and tied the sash neatly before heading into the vacant living room. After some consideration, he selected an old textbook from the shelf and settled on the only arm chair in the room, peering through the darkness to read the words.
After several fruitless attempts to focus on an old, almost forgotten Biology lesson, he gave up and went to start his coffee pot. He stood at the counter, waiting for it to finish. Neglecting the cream entirely, he put four spoonfuls of sugar into the coffee and stirred it meditatively.
He decided to ask Morgan about it the next day. Next work shift, he reminded himself, as it was already three in the morning. He sipped his coffee, staring out the window at the Potomac River.