a/n: promise me that you will never forget.

the things that shape us
spencer/toby

.

.

.

September 11th starts out like any other day. Like all the other five year old girls, Spencer Hastings attends kindergarten. It's another picturesque day in Rosewood, Pennsylvania. Spencer's two brown pigtails bounce up and down as she steps into Mrs. Minchkin's kindergarten classroom. A dazzling smile illuminated her face and her eyes sparkled. Spencer was the kind of girl who did everything with a smile and a spring in her step. "Good morning, Spencer," Mrs. Minchkin, who Spencer always calls Mrs. Munchkin (by accident, of course), says.

"Good morning, Mrs. Munch —Minchkin," Spencer corrects herself quickly, skipping to the carpet, where everyone was seated in a circle. She takes a seat next to the rocking chair, where the teacher sits. She then remembers that she still has her backpack with her while the other kids have all put their backpacks away, in their cubbies. Spencer decides not to put her backpack away just yet, because she could never give up a seat like this.

Her daddy was going to New York City today. She wanted to be there when he got home, proudly holding her worksheet that she got a gold star on; that's why she has to sit next to Mrs. Minchkin, to pay more attention. Her daddy expected nothing but the best from her.

The morning announcements come on soon enough, and after the pledge is said, Spencer dreams of what it would be like to be one of the big fifth graders at Rosewood Elementary. She has dreams of doing the morning announcements every morning, wearing her neon yellow patrol belt and shiny silver badge proudly, ruling the school . . . but she was only a lowly kindergartener at the moment.

It's almost noon, almost lunchtime, when the parents start dropping in to pick up their children. Spencer is in the middle of coloring a picture of a dog when the first parent comes. Mrs. Minchkin steps away from the computer, where she had spent the last hour on, leaving the students to do whatever they wanted. Spencer had doubted Mrs. Minchkin's intentions at first, but upon seeing the frightened expression on the teacher's usually cheerful face, she realized that something was up. Something very, very important.

She strains to hear snippets of the conversation Mrs. Minchkin is having with the parent, who turns out to be Amanda's mom. Spencer hears things like "attack," "airplane crash," "terrorist," and "New York City." She didn't make much out of this at first; after all, they were only words. Amanda is then dragged out of the classroom and school by her worried mother, leaving all the other children wondering what, exactly, had just happened.

Mrs. Minchkin tells the class that everything's fine, and leads them to lunch like nothing peculiar at all had happened. Less than a minute into the lunch period, three more parents came. By the end of the thirty minute lunch period, only half of the original twenty-four students in the class are left; half had been picked up. By this time, Spencer was really beginning to panic –what if something had really happened, something bad?

Recess commences right after lunch, but no one seems to be in the mood to play. Even the fifth graders that they have recess with are acting strange.

Spencer sits on the swings by herself, thinking about the situation at hand. She isn't one to play games and run around during recess; recess is a time when she can think without many distractions. Not that many people would want to talk to her, anyway. It's about halfway into recess when her mom shows up at the playground, immediately making a beeline for Spencer. "We need to go. Now," her mother says sternly.

Without protesting, Spencer follows her mother out of the playground and into Mrs. Minchkin's classroom to inform her that they were leaving. The two adults leave Spencer alone and start whispering in a corner. That was strange, Spencer thought. Mrs. Minchkin usually didn't speak with parents this long. Why would she speak so long with her mom?

Minutes later, Mrs. Hastings comes back, takes Spencer's hand, and leads her outside and to her car. Melissa is already sitting in the backseat looking as confused as Spencer. She slides into the seat opposite of Melissa, and buckles her seatbelt wordlessly. She and her sister exchange what-is-going-on glances as her mom starts the car. "We're going to New York City," Mrs. Hastings announces. Her tone makes it very clear that she does not want to be disturbed while driving, so Spencer and Melissa stay silent.

A million questions race through Spencer's five year old mind. Why are we going to New York City? Isn't that where Dad is? Why won't Mom tell us what's going on? Why, oh why, did all the parents come to pick up their kids at school today? Spencer fiddles with the bangles dangling from her wrists, trying to keep her hands and mind occupied on something else other than what was going on.

There's around an hour of complete silence, except for the sound of tires screeching and car engines rumbling, Mrs. Hastings parks the car on the side of a street, and gets out. Melissa and Spencer follow her lead, exiting the car as well. Spencer's eyes widen in shock when she sees the scene before her; Melissa does the same. There were ashes everywhere, along with a ton of police cars and ambulances. She could see dead bodies being carried out of two tall building structures – she's not sure exactly what they are – and being dumped onto the ground. Family members were clutching one another as people carried body after body outside. "What's going on, Mom?" she asks nervously, biting her bottom lip.

"Spencer, be quiet," is Mrs. Hastings' response. Spencer immediately shuts up and began to observe instead. She could see families bursting with happiness and hugging a loved one, perhaps a survivor of this disaster that had taken place, whatever it was. Whenever a dead body was brought out, one family began to cry; perhaps that was a dead loved one. Suddenly, Spencer understood what was going on, in a way, even though she was only five. Something had caused these people to die inside the building. She didn't know what it was, she just knew that something bad had happened.

"Mom, is Dad okay?" The question that's been nagging at Spencer's brain finally comes out. She'll admit it, she's scared. She knows that her dad's in the city today. She sniffles a little, hoping that out of all the buildings in New York City, her daddy wasn't in this one; oh, please don't let him be in this one.

Mrs. Hastings sighs, but answers, "I hope so." Her shoulders start to shake a little, and Melissa is quick to comfort her with a hug. Spencer joins in on the hug as well.

Twenty agonizing minutes later, a police officer approaches them. "Are you guys the Hastings family?" Spencer feels her heart sink into her stomach; she just has a really bad feeling about this.

"Yes, I'm Veronica Hastings," Spencer's mom says. Spencer bites her nails and Melissa repeatedly taps her foot on the ground.

"I'm sorry to inform you that your husband has passed away. He died nobly, though; he ran into the Twin Towers to try and warn everyone that the terrorist planes were coming, but ended up dying as well." Spencer emits a loud shriek at the sound of this. Her father . . . dead? She glanced at Melissa, who was bawling, and her mom was choking back tears, trying to stay strong for them.

"This has to be a joke," Spencer states. "I refuse to believe this. It's not possible!" Her daddy, the one who would twirl her around the living room. Her daddy, the one who would hold her on his lap and tell stories to her. Her daddy, the one who would bake her cookies when she was feeling down. Her daddy, possibly the best daddy in the world, at least in her opinion. He couldn't be dead. Someone as amazing as her daddy couldn't be dead.

"Spencer," her mom says, pulling her close. "I'm sorry."

"No!" Spencer screams. "No, no, no, no, and no! He can't be dead. He just can't!" She pushes her mom away in anger, turning to the police officer. "This is all a trick, isn't it?" She's full out crying now, but can't seem to stop. "You're just a big, huge butt! And a liar, on top of it all! I bet you he's somewhere in the crowd, waiting for us."

"Spence," Melissa snaps, hiccuping from all the crying. "Don't you understand? Daddy's gone. And he's never coming back."

.

.

.

Nothing was ever the same since that fateful day back in kindergarten. Spencer will never forget how her heart sank to her stomach once she heard the news. Sure, she felt stupid for throwing a fit, but she was just frustrated and angry because she loved her father, she really did, and now he was gone. The past few years have been very hard on the Hastings family. They still flourished economically, but mentally, they were broken. Spencer never thought that this was happening to her, and hoped that this was just a nightmare, and that she would wake up and her daddy would be standing by her bed, smiling at her. But it wasn't a dream, and Spencer was breaking, if not already broken.

She is in the fourth grade now, and according to every single one of her mother's friends, fourth grade is when little girls really start to mature and become big girls, but Spencer doesn't think that she's changed at all. She had grown a few inches and gained some weight (obviously), and maybe gotten smarter, perhaps, but she was still the same broken girl in pigtails that had cried and thrown a fit on September 11th, the same daddy's little girl.

What Spencer never really understood was why everyone else's parents had pulled them out of school that day, if their parents hadn't died. Later, her mom had explained that if the terrorists attacked New York City, they would probably want to attack Philadelphia as well. Spencer had responded with "we don't live in Philadelphia," and her mom just told her to be quiet and eat her grapes.

It is June now, which means Father's Day is fast approaching. Everyone else is running around, asking everyone what they're getting their dads for Father's Day. When the most popular girl in fourth grade, Alison DiLaurentis, asks Spencer, she replies with, "flowers," because she doesn't like to say the phrase "my dad's dead." Everyone starts laughing. Alison cocks a hip and says, "Why would you get your dad flowers? He's a freaking man." She flipped her hair annoyingly, and everyone in the class started laughing, agreeing with Alison.

Spencer notices that there was only one person who was not laughing. A name comes to mind immediately; Toby Cavanaugh. She didn't really know him too well, but appreciated the fact that he wanted to be nice and wouldn't laugh at her when everyone else was.

That afternoon, she plucks a single flower from their garden at home; it's a pretty daisy. Spencer bikes to the cemetery, where her daddy is buried, like she does almost every single week.

Her hair is no longer in pigtails anymore; she likes doing simple high ponytails now. She approaches his grave quietly, making sure not to step on any twigs or leaves or anything. Spencer gently touches the words Peter Hastings, engraved in stone. Her hand shakes when she touches the words September 11, 2001. That was a date that she'd remember forever, whether she likes it or not.

"Hi, Daddy. Today at school I told Alison DiLaurentis that I was giving you a flower for Father's Day. She laughed at me. In fact, the whole class laughed at me. Except for this one kid, Toby Cavanaugh. He's nice, I guess. I miss you, Daddy. Life isn't the same without you. Melissa is being more and more moody these days. I know she's a teenager, but I don't think she would normally act this way. Mom is just getting worse and worse every day. I think she overworks herself. Daddy, this family isn't the same without you. I've been saying it for more than four years, but it's the truth." Spencer pauses, blinking back tears. "Happy Father's Day, Daddy. If you were here, I would hug you and never let go. I've been getting all A's, just like you wanted. I'm still making you proud, Daddy. I'm still your princess, no matter what."

Snap. Spencer whirls around, startled at the sound of the twig snapping. She is met with none other than the face of Toby Cavanaugh. "Hi," she says. It's awkward because the two of them have never really had a conversation that didn't go along the lines of "what was the homework again?" or "what'd you get for number thirteen?"

"Um, hi, Toby," she manages, with a small smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you talking to your dad just then," Toby says. "I'm sorry, Spencer." Before Spencer has a chance to say anything, he continues, "I lost my mom, too. On September 11th in 2001. She worked in New York City. I still try to visit her at least once per week. I feel like somehow, she's still here with me, watching me. I have to give her a daily update on what's going on, or else it doesn't feel right. What happened to your dad?"

"He died in the 9/11 attack too. I feel the same way about it as you do; I have to visit him every single day to talk to him. My family just isn't the same without him, so I keep escaping to this place." Spencer decides that she likes Toby, a lot, because he's sensitive and caring, and went through the same things as her.

Toby smiles. "I've never met someone who's gone through the same things as me. You know what? I think I like you, Spencer Hastings."

"Same goes for you, Toby Cavanaugh."

.

.

.

It's been twelve long years since the 9/11 attack, but Spencer still remembers every second of the day, every emotion she felt during that day. She's class president of her senior class, and is a shoo-in for valedictorian and Ivy League acceptance, but those things don't mean a thing to her. It's not the same without her loving dad to help her and guide her through it all. Her dad was the one who made her who she is today, and nothing was worth it without him. And when you lose him at a really young age, it's harder to cope with it.

Spencer still makes those regular visits to the cemetery where her dad is buried. Flower after flower is placed on the grave, only to be swept away by the end later that evening. Even so, she doesn't stop doing it, because really, it's what keeps her sane and connected to her dead father. But every single trip since that June day in fourth grade is taken with Toby Cavanaugh, who also places a flower on his mother's grave. She wouldn't say that they were a couple; they were just best friends grieving together.

When the principal asks for a moment of silence for the victims of the 9/11 attacks during the morning announcements on the morning of Wednesday, September 11th, no one is really silent except for Spencer and Toby. Everyone's whispering and giggling among themselves, and Spencer just wants to scream at them to shut up. But they don't understand, and never will. Only she and Toby understand the importance of the silence, having lost parents to that attack. Spencer can feel a tear tricking down her cheek, but doesn't even bother to wipe it away. Let everyone see her cry. Her image doesn't even matter to her anymore, at least not as much as the popular girls' images matter to them.

The evening's trip to the cemetery is extra special, because it marks the twelfth anniversary of her death. It wasn't a nice thing to keep track of, but Spencer always knew exactly how long it had been since she found out that her father had died. She then learned that Toby did the same thing, and it was all these little things that made her love him (as a friend, of course, or as Spencer likes to think).

"Do you miss him?" Toby asks, as he does on every single trip the two of them take to the cemetery. Their sneakers squash the leaves underneath them and a few rocks are kicked around, but by this point, they don't care how much sound they make. No one would ever find out that they go to the cemetery to mourn their dead parent; the people in their grade worried about more superficial things, such as the upcoming homecoming dance. This was like Spencer's second life, but it was the one that showed who she really was.

"Every second of every day," is Spencer's response; it's the one that she uses every single time Toby asks her this question. "Do you miss her?"

"Not a day goes by when I don't," Toby answers, as usual. "Spencer? Don't you ever get tired of coming here? I mean, it's the same routine every single day, and we waste our money on all these flowers that they won't even receive. Sometimes, I wonder if there's still a point. We have to stop eventually."

"I guess it sometimes gets boring," Spencer admits, "but I want to show my dad that I care, because Mom and Melissa obviously don't, at least not anymore. It's been twelve years of it, but I can't stop. Something always brings me back to this place. Something always brings me back to him. I see him in my stuffed animals at home. I see him in every book I read. I see him in every cookie I ever eat. Most importantly, I see him in myself. He's everywhere."

Without knowing it, Spencer starts crying, again. Toby puts her arm around here and she snuggles in close to him. A waterfall of tears are streaming down her face, and she can't even control it. She's gone through too much in her life, and the cracks had begun to form years ago. She looks at Toby, who is crying as well, surprisingly. "I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too," Toby whispers back, without hesitation. Spencer manages a weak smile. He was the only person in the world who actually understood everything about her and who she was. He was willing to spend eight years getting to know her when everyone else just ignored her, thinking of her as nothing but the smart, nerdy girl (when really, she was much more than that). He noticed her when no one else would even talk to her; in the end, that's what really matters.

In that moment, they were still two children who had both lost a parent, waiting for everything to finally be over.

because the things that shape us . . . are also the things that break us.