I suck. I haven't been on in forever. I suck. Will I update my old stories? My answer is that I suck major ass.
This is canon after 5x22, so not 5x23
This storyline makes me super sad and mad.
.
She's on her way out of the brew, Emily by her side. They're talking about Hanna and how terrible the whole situation is. She can't believe she's buying over priced coffee while her friend is in jail. It seems so trivial and selfish. She should be spending all her time trying to help Hanna.
"My mom's been at the DA office since 4, and she still hasn't gotten back to me. What is going on?!" Spencer growls.
"I can't stop thinking about how miserable Hanna must be. It's been almost two days now," Emily shakes her head. "When will we be able to see her?" she asks, a pained expression marking her beautiful face.
"I don't-" her eyes connect with a pair of blue eyes she hasn't seen in, it almost feels like a whole life time ago. He's coming out of his truck, his uniform on. He must be getting off of a shift. His truck door remains open beside him, his shock from seeing her almost paralyzing him. They stand there staring at each other for one, two, three, long dreadful moments before he slams his truck door, and she finally feels free to disconnect.
And just like that, all the guilt she had been spared of, spears her, breaking her heart in half. She wasn't completely sure where their relationship stood, she knew it was at a standstill, but she wasn't sure if it was over. She still doesn't know. She didn't know when Jonny kissed her and she kissed Collin. She didn't feel guilty for the kisses, so they had to have been morally correct, right? Her relationship with Toby had ended awhile ago, right? It's as though the details of everything have blurred. She isn't sure of what he sees her as anymore.
Had she been disloyal? Did she cheat on him?
She hates that seeing him now brings her feelings of dismay when his presence used to bring her absolute joy.
"I'll let you two talk," Emily looks between the two, Toby getting closer to them.
"Wait, Emily, don't," Spencer pleas, turning towards her friend in desperation, but Emily is already gone. Toby replaces her presence beside her.
"Hey," he greets, not looking her in the eye. His greeting is neutral. She wonders if he is just talking to her because he has to. It's the polite thing to do, you see, and Toby Cavanaugh must follow his moral compass, no matter what the circumstance may be.
"Hi."
She realizes that for once she isn't the desperate one. She's not the one who left the country without even saying good bye. She's not the one who deserves the apology. She's in the wrong, but he pushed her to that side, right? Was she even in the wrong. She had been so sure that they had ended things, that he had broken up with her, but now she feels as if she had imagined that scene. She had made that scenario in her head so she could avoid the real break up that evidently would fall upon them.
"So, you're back," Toby says.
"I wasn't sure if you knew I was gone," Spencer states, feeling uncomfortable. She hadn't told him. Who did?
"Emily told me," Toby clarifies, looking at the ground.
They're both very good at masking their emotions when they want to be. Usually they can still see through each others facades, but they are both trying so hard to cover their emotions that they don't have enough strength to envision the truth of what the other feels.
She isn't sure if she is staying so quiet because of her guilt or her fermented anger.
"I talked to Hanna," Toby says, swallowing.
This catches Spencer's attention. She looks up, her eyes finally attaching to his.
"She wanted me to tell you guys that she misses you and loves you, and she doesn't want you guys doing anything to peeve -A off."
Spencer looks down.
Emily and Aria told her about the plan to tell the police about -A. How everything disappeared. Right now, they were gathering all the threats -A has ever sent them. Most of it they got rid of, but there are some little things they have. It's not enough evidence yet, they still need to find more. Was that what Hanna was referring to?
"She's going to be okay, Spencer," Toby says after a long drought of conversation.
"I-," she looks down, swallowing.
"She's strong and has a higher endurance level than most of the people in this town. She can get through this."
"She doesn't deserve to be in there," Spencer frowns, feeling vulnerable. She looks at him, "I should have been here. Instead I was in London, pretending that my life here just didn't exist," her eyes drift off, "acting as though I had this whole other life." Her guilt towards Hanna blends with her guilt towards Toby. She can't just leave her life here behind. She's in this together with them. Things haven't been finished here. She can't just runaway to London.
"You most likely deserve that other life," Toby says in a pained way. "You deserve the best life," Toby states, his blue, honest, pure eyes boring into her beaten, disloyal, scorn ones.
"T-thanks," she stammers, clearing her throat, fluttering her eyes down, "but, I don't, not really," the words come out tightly.
Toby doesn't rebuke this. If they were in a better place, he would. She's sure of it. But the facts remain the same. They are on the odds. The water still boils between them. The more they converse, the closer they are to burn.
She sucks in a breath, looking at Toby. His eyes speak desperation, but his lips stayed glued together, firm and strict. He's become more disciplined. More stubborn.
She's so confused. She just wants clarification. She wants to know whether or not she has set fire to their relationship, or if they were both already buried in the ashes, just trying to survive.
"I keep thinking about Hanna," Toby murmurs, his eyes shifting away from her. "...about how maybe I could have stopped this if I had just warned her and Caleb that evening," he sounds distressed.
A pause follows.
She didn't expect him to say that. She didn't really want him to say that. She kind of wanted them to fight. Fight, so they could break up. Break up, so she wouldn't have to tell him about the kisses; wouldn't have to hurt him and feel guilty. But what he is saying now... he's raising the white flag, or at least reaching for it.
"I wanted to help, but...," he pauses. "All the cops in this town are corrupt. I didn't want to have to go down that alley."
Spencer sucks in a breath.
"No," she shakes her head, feeling as though she is about to lose everything. And it's going to be her fault. She was so sure that their was no recovery. She was sure they were done for. There was no going back. They were in shards, but now Toby is beginning to pick up the pieces. If only Toby knew how shattered they really are.
"You were just doing your job, right?" Spencer asks, feeling a lump in her throat. She's close to tears. She is closed to tears because she realizes now that they were damaged, but not totaled. She has ruined everything.
"Yes, and I know it was the right thing to do, but maybe the right thing isn't always the right thing," he sighs. "I know that it may have seemed like I wasn't on your side, but I always was, Spencer," he says in an almost whisper. "I still am."
She feels herself crying, tears prickling down her face, running down her cheeks. She pushes her tears away. She realizes now that it was her anger that blinded her the other night with Jonny. Toby was trying to protect her, but she was too mad to accept that as the truth. Toby had been so aloof and secritive, trying to stay moral, and she couldn't be mad at that. She couldn't be angry with him for staying honest and loyal, for being who he was. So she convinced herself that he had arrested Jonny out of his personal emotions toward her-that he had arrested Jonny to make a point; to spite her for all their arguments and her lack of staying out of trouble.
"Spencer," he sounds concerned, stepping towards her.
She flahses her eyes up to him, feeling more nervousthan she has in a long time. Inhaling deeply, she leans forward, pushing her lips into his familar ones. She's forgotten how warm ad welcoming they are. The kisses with Jonny and Collin had been nice and refreshing, but incomparable to this.
His lips brush against hers rhythmically, sensually, desperately trying to make up for lost time.
"Come inside with me," he whispers, his hand reaching down to entwine with hers.
She glances down, staring at their entwined hands. A year and a half. A year and a half of heartache and fights and distance, but also a year and a half of pure love and devotion. Will this be the end of all that? If she tells him, will everything else not matter?
"I can't," she breathes heavily.
"Why?" he questions, looking hurt. "I miss you, Spence."
She looks him, "I miss you too."
"Then come with me."
She nods, reluctantly accepting his proposal.
They go inside his loft. Toby leaves to change out of his uniform, leaving her in the living room of the loft. She glances around the place, trying to remember the last time she was here; wondering when they next time she'll see it after tonight. She isn't sure how Toby will react. She almost doesn't want to find out. They have hardly stepped out of the danger zone. They are still close to the edge. With her confession, she is just going to send them back into the ruins again, possibly sending them so far back that they'll never find their way back at all.
He comes out a few moments later, his attire swapped with something casual. Seeing him in normal clothes makes the tiny bits of anger that still cling to her disappear.
"Hey," he greets awkwardly. It's still awkward. Maybe it's because she has just been staring at him blankly for a couple seconds.
"Hey," she replies, letting her shoulders drop.
A pause.
She feels like she is at a blank. There's nothing to say, nothing to talk about. Why? Is it her guilt? Probably. Or is it simply the after effect of their fight? Usually after a fight, they make love. Maybe that is what's wrong in this situation. They're disregarding their routine.
"Do you want some tea?" he asks.
She takes a few steps forward, pulling off her purse as she does so. She sets the purse on the arm of the couch, before limiting most of the space between them.
"Not really," she rasps, her yearning eyes attaching to his.
Their lips cling to each other, their hands grasping each other's body. Their kisses are sloppy, their hands exploring. Everything is rushed and frantic. It's been too long. She didn't realize how bad she has wanted him until now. Her stomach is quick to knot, the guilt and desire tangling together rigorously. Dopamine floods her brain,euphoria drowning her conscience.
They land on the couch, unable to make it to the bed room. Their clothes come off fast, both of them eager to feel each other's bodies without the divider of cotton and polyester.
They make love. She forgets about their fight. Forgets the kisses, forgets all of the secrets that still lie between them. As she looks into his eyes, their bodies entwined and interlocking, they are the most perfect couple in the world.
She's nearly on top of him, their bodies smashed together on the couch, her head on his chest. He plays with her hair and she listens to his heart.
Conversation between them flows easier now, but it's still guarded conversation. Their is still a blockage. An awkwardness. She wonders if Toby notices this off balance between them.
They've been talking about London. She's spared him most of the details though. The blood. Collin. Melissa lying. She's purposely kept this conversation light.
"The tea is better there," Spencer comments.
"Better than coffee?" Toby pokes fun at her.
She picks her head up, looking at him with an almost smile. It's the first time she's made eye contact since they finished having sex.
"Not even close," she says.
Toby is sort of like coffee. He quickens her heart beat. He is her personally 'pick-me-up'. He always makes her morning better. She feels like she goes through withdrawals when he doesn't take part of her day. He's hot.
She's tried to beat her coffee addiction. She's tried to switch to just drinking tea, tried to go without it, but she can't.
"Coffee will always be my favorite beverage."
"It's terrible for your heart, you know," he says, brushing back her hair with his fingers. "All that caffeine will catch up to you one day if you don't slow it down."
Yes, coffee is bad for her heart. But she drinks it anyway. She continues to drink outrageous amounts of it per day, knowing the damage it's causing. Toby is not good for her heart. She is too attached to him. Too vulnerable with him. Her heart has been broken and repaired so many times, yet she continues to be with him. She continues because he also has the effect to bring her heart the most radiate, pure joy imaginable.
She has to tell him. Now. She can't wait any longer.
"I want you to be around for a long time," he tells her after a quiet pause.
"I'll try to cut back a few cups."
"Your heart will thank you later."
"I'm not doing it for me," she tells him. "...I'm doing it for you."
He smiles at her, leaning to kiss her. Their lips brush against each other. This time in a more slow paced matter. They are taking their time now.
"Spence," he murmurs, breaking away from the kiss, "don't go to London again... not without me." He continues. "I figure it's fair that way. You made me make the same promise."
She remembers. It was a few months ago, after Toby returned from London. She still remembers it vividly. "Next time you go to London, you're taking me with you," she had said, and then, "we're never coming back."
"Sounds good to me," she smiles softly. Although it quickly fades.
She drops her head, looking down. She sighs.
"What is it?" he questions.
She doesn't answer.
"Spencer?"
She sighs again. "I think you may want to retract your promise."
"What? Why would I want to do that?"
She pauses.
Toby waits. She isn't look at him, but she can feel his stare burning her scalp.
"I have to tell you something."
"Maybe you shouldn't..." he sucks in a breath. She can feel his body become stiff next to her. "If it's that bad," he clarifies. "I'm still on the force, Spence."
"It's not like that. I didn't do anything illegal." She corrects him quickly.
"Then... What is it?" he questions after a moment.
She sits up, still avoiding his stare. He sits up too.
"Spencer... you're scaring me..." he whispers.
She meets his stare, feeling every bone in her body shake. "It's about ... us."
He waits. He looks down. Looks at the necklace that hangs on her neck. There is a nervousness that gloom his blue eyes. A cloud hangs above him. He doesn't know what she is about to say, but he knows it will be bad.
She is the one staring at him now, desperate for eye contact. "I don't even know where to start," she admits.
He stays quiet, still staring.
"I guess... ," she thinks. "It started the night you arrested Jonny."
He stiffens more now, his eyes falling to his hands.
"You were right to do that, by the way," she tells him shamefully. "I thought you were doing it because you were mad at me, but I realize now I was the one angry with you-I wanted to find a reason to be mad at you because I couldn't be mad at you for just doing your job correctly."
"So, I used that. I called you zealous, even though I was really the zealous one."
She stops. She wants him to look at her. Does he suspect the kiss? Or does he think it's something worse. Maybe he is giving her the benefit of the doubt.
"We hadn't been talking. I hadn't seen you in, like, two weeks. Our relationship was so unclear. We were apart, but ... ," she sucks in a breath, "not officially."
"At least that's how it was to me," she admits quietly.
He finally takes a look at her. Some hope lingers that, but it is mostly dread and aggravation. "So what happened next? With Jonny?" he asks.
She yearns to look away. To look at anything else but him. But she forces herself to stay in contact with him. "He kissed me," she tells him.
Toby swallows, his eyes filling with betrayal and anger. His jaw clenches.
The seconds that pass are endless. She feels like she has been waiting to her his reaction for hours, when reality, it's only been a few seconds.
"That guy's such a prick..." Toby hisses under his breath, shaking his head. "If he hadn't vandalized in the first place then his work wouldn't have been stolen."
"You're right." Spencer agrees.
He looks at her, his eyes glaring into hers. "Then why did you help him?"
"I don't know!" she exclaims, sighing loudly. "And why does it matter? That's what you're really mad about."
Toby groans, his head burying in his hands. His hands clench pieces of his hair, the veins in his temples magnifying.
She waits.
"I'm sorry, Toby," Spencer whimpers.
Hearing her sound so distressed, he looks at her. He's more relaxed now. There is soft softness in his eyes.
"It was a mistake." She says. "Everything with Jonny was a mistake..." she tells him, feeling her throat closing on her.
He looks away again.
"Is that it?" he questions, his voice frail.
She swallows. "No."
He waits. Doesn't say anything for at least a minute. So she just tells him.
"I kissed someone else. In London." She forces the iron words out.
Toby shuts his eyes, his face tensing.
"It wasn't Wren... if that's what you're thinking..." Spencer murmurs, looking down, feeling more ashamed than she ever has. And being a Hastings, shame was one of the first emotions she came in counter with.
"You were really done with me, weren't you?" he deadpans, his eyes still shut.
"I thought we were done."
He drags a hand across his face. Then he laughs, which unsettles her profoundly. His chuckles continue until they turn into soft sobs. She wonders quietly when the transition took place.
Her throat is completely shut now, feeling as if there are boulders blocking her air ways. If she breathes through her mouth, she is sure she will break out into ha giant sob. She feels herself crying and hurries to wipe away the tears. She wants to say something, but she can't speak. She can't formulate an explanation in her head. It all just sounds so bad out loud.
"You should probably go..." Toby says, stepping up, not even bothering to glance at her. He begins to walk away but she steps up now too, stepping towards him.
"Toby, please," she croaks. "Don't do this."
"Go." He demands.
"No. Please can we just talk through this? I don't care if I'm groveling. I don't care if I'm begging. I'm not going to walk away without least making a fight for you!"
"Spencer, there isn't anything to talk about!" he turns around sharply, his hard, boiling eyes finally landing on hers. "I have nothing to say to you. I feel like I don't even know you."
She frowns, feeling utterly desperate to convince him that their relationship can still work. He had once known her so well. He could predict her moves before she did. And now...
"I'm sorry."
"That's not enough," he grits through his teeth. "Now go, Spencer. It can only get worse from here."
"Give me your worst then!" she pleads, inching closer to him. Desperation bleeds in her eyes, "I'm literally begging you to yell at me. Call me names. Do your worst!"
"No." He says.
"Why not!"
"I'm not going to break your heart just because you broke mine..." the words are quiet and harsh, cutting her open.
"My hearts already broken," she says through tears. "My heart broke a long time ago. That's why I did what I did, Toby. I was just trying to be all right."
"You don't think that my heart was breaking when I couldn't tell you things? When I told you to walk away that night?" he shakes his head. "Spencer, I've been miserable without you. Miserable, keeping secrets from you! But I just suffered through because if it meant helping you... protecting you, I'd take that pain in a heart beat. Tanner's watching you. Like a hawk."
"Maybe you should stop protecting me then!" she cries in an exasperated tone. "Because every time you do, you go too far! I just end up miserable. It's like you helping Mona all over again. You get so caught up in protecting me that you completely forget that I need you. That I rather have you with me, there for me, than you protecting me, and us being on completely different sides of the spectrum!"
She isn't sure where all the words came from. She breathes heavily, watching Toby's hard exterior, her chest rising and falling.
"Maybe in your eyes, we weren't broken up, but in mine we were. When you go weeks without having a conversation with someone... a month without being able to be in the same room as them and not fight... When do you accept that it's over?"
"You gave up. " Toby accuses.
"Fine, maybe I did. Maybe I gave up. But so did you." She fires back. "Every time I reached out to you, you shot me down. What was I supposed to do, Toby?" she tilts her head to the side, her puffed out eyes pleading. "It may have not been official, but we were over, or at least on some kind of pause."
"And I'm not trying to justify what I did. It was bad. I'm just trying to keep you, and to explain how I felt because I need you to understand. I need you, Toby. Please don't send me away. Please don't push me away." She begs him. "I love you."
He sighs. A pause follows. He shakes his head, blinks a few tears back. "Spencer, I love you, too..." he says, shifting his eyes around. "That's why this hurts so much," his voice cracks.
"I know. I'm sorry. We were already in a bad place, and I made it worse." She admits. "Nothing in my life lasts." She starts up again. "Every time I'm happy, something ruins it, and our relationship has been one of the best things life has given me, maybe even the best. Probably the best..." her voice trails off. "I keep waiting for it to be taken away for good. I thought it was the end." She admits. "And I thought I could leave my life behind here and start over in London, but... it doesn't work like that. Running away doesn't solve anything."
"You're right. It doesn't." He tells her.
They stand in front of each other. Spencer waiting for an answer, having nothing else to say. Toby, looking upon her, conflict in his irises.
His eyebrows furrow a little. He sucks on his lips a tad. His body relaxes. "Come here, Spence," he reaches out to her, his arms enclosing around her.
She relaxes in to him, feeling a tear of joy, she thinks, fall from her eyes. Or maybe it is just some left over tears of pain. She isn't sure. It doesn't matter. She breathes in relief.
He rests his head into her shoulder, smelling her hair, breathing her in. "There's too many times where I've almost lost you."
"You aren't going to lose me," she tells him. "I promise."