So I decided to do a loose (very loose) adaptation of Spencer in season 3, after finding out Toby was on the A team. :) Also, I'm going to put a trigger warning for suicidal tendencies. There's a happy ending, but just to be safe.
Is this what you're looking for?
She's lying on her bathroom floor, her body shaking from the restrained sobs. She doesn't know how long she's been in this position, but she doesn't care. Nothing matters to her anymore. He's gone. She no longer has a safe place to land. Her friends watch as she continues to deteriorate, but no one knows what to say. They pry, trying to open her vault of secrets, but it's locked tight. She can't bring herself to say what she'd seen. She feels that, if she says it out loud, she won't be able to take it back. It will all become too real.
What has she done that could make him do this to her? Surely, this has to be her fault. Has he had enough of her secrets? Has his hatred for Alison surpassed his love for her? She convinces herself that she's the catalyst for the demise of their relationship and, ultimately, Toby's betrayal.
She's running on empty, she's out of gas.
She doesn't see how she can possibly piece herself back together, and she doesn't even want to try. Each time she does, she's more fragile, more vulnerable than before. It's not worth it to her anymore, and the thought of lying on the cool, tile floor for the rest of her life seems a hell of a lot better to her than anything else.
"Spencer?"
She can hear her sister's soft, concerned voice from outside the door, but she can't move. She doesn't want to.
She hears a faint knock.
"Spencer, please open the door."
She tries to answer, but she can't. As much as she wants to be alone, she can't face it. It allows her mind to run rampant.
The door slowly opens, and she can't hold back any longer. She feels Melissa's gentle hand on her back, and the tears begin to fall. Her frame shakes and soon, she's sobbing. She doesn't remember sitting up, but she feels her sister's arms wrap tightly around her.
"You deserve better than him," Melissa tells her. Spencer knows she's trying to comfort her, but how can she, when she doesn't know the full extent of what's happened?
"Do I?" she croaks. She doesn't believe that. Not one bit.
"Sweetie, why would you even ask that?"
"Why else would he do this to me?"
"All relationships run their course, Spencer. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be."
But she just shakes her head. She can't bring herself to say the words.
Toby's on the A team.
"How could I have not seen it?" she cries.
"You'd be surprised at what you're willing to overlook when you're in love."
"He never loved me," she whispers, barely loud enough for Melissa to hear.
"Spencer, that's ridiculous."
"He's working with Mona!"
"What makes you think that?"
"He'd broken into our kitchen, he was in the black hoodie, he was wearing the black gloves. He's A, Melissa! Toby is A. He never loved me. He was just using me to get to my friends."
"I don't believe it."
"I don't want to either," she answers, and her voice drops to a whisper. "What did I do that could make him hate me this much? To do this to me, my friends, my family?"
"That's what I asked myself when I found out about Ian," she tells her. "I know how hard it is, Spencer. I know how badly you want to find out the answer to that question, but for the sake of your sanity, don't. I don't want to see you get hurt because of this."
Spencer wipes at her eyes before looking up at her sister. "It's a little too late for that," she tells her, her voice cold.
"Hey-"
"Forget it," she says, standing up from her spot on the bathroom floor.
"Spencer-"
"Melissa, please. I can't do this. I can't talk about this anymore. I would think you of all people would understand."
She can't do it anymore. She's exhausted. It's suffocating- the truth was like swallowing sand. It leaves her breathless, almost as if she's drowning. But she feels herself sinking, and soon she's dragged under the water.
No one knows what to say, or how to help. She grows more fragile each day; the bags under her eyes are permanently etched into her skin. Her friends are worried, and still none of them know what's happened. Some days are spent in bed, staring up at the ceiling, others spent in class, staring blankly out the windows. The Spencer that everyone knew and loved is gone, and it's almost like she's a shell of her former self. She exists, but she doesn't live.
She's just left, and she's walking fast. It's pouring down rain, but she doesn't care. It seems fitting to her, and she allows the freezing rain to chill her to the bone. She trembles at the sound of her teacher's voice, and she can't catch her breath. The Catcher and the Rye. Out of every book that could've been chosen, Mrs. Montgomery had, for whatever reason, chosen this one. Spencer lets out a terse laugh, amused by the irony in her life. She believes that God has a sick sense of humor, and wonders how much more cruelty she can take.
She soon finds herself on his doorstep, and her heart is racing. She doesn't know how she'd gotten here, or why she's here, but her hand shakes as she tries to knock on the door.
Yet she can't.
Her hand drops to her side and she slides down onto the step, wrapping her arms around her trembling body.
"Toby," she whimpers. "Please tell me what I saw wasn't real."
But there's no answer.
"Please, Toby."
She doesn't know why she's begging, she knows he's not there. He hasn't been for the past two weeks. Yet she continues to show up.
"Please," she cries, and soon she's sobbing. Her tears mix with rain water, and they trail down her face. She can't stop. Every moment spent with him flashes behind her eyes, and it only fuels her anguish. She's gasping for air, clutching at her chest because of the pain. The pain from the heartbreak and the pain from the tears. She can't catch her breath; she's drowning.
"Spencer?"
She lifts her face from her hands, and her sad gaze meets Melissa's.
"I was so worried about you," she tells her, before sitting down on the step.
"Yeah, well, I've been getting that a lot these days."
"Ella said you'd run out of class, and no one had seen you since. Didn't you think to call someone? Let them know you're okay?"
"I'm sorry," she mutters. "I just really wanted to be alone."
Her sister sighs. "I know."
"Melissa?" she asks, and she can hear her voice begin to tremble.
"Yes?"
"Is it always gonna hurt like this?"
And soon enough, she's crying. She doesn't know how she has any tears left, and she berates herself for being so weak.
"Not always," her sister assures her, running a hand through her matted hair.
"When does it stop?"
"That parts up to you."
Spencer lets out a laugh. "Great."
"Spencer, you don't need him. You deserve so much better than him. Do not make the same mistake I did. I saw the signs, and I chose to ignore it. Don't ignore this."
"I just don't understand. I know this isn't him. This isn't Toby."
"If someone shows you who they really are, believe them."
"I don't want to believe that he's capable of hurting me like this."
"I know," her sister sighs, and she rests her head on Spencer's shoulder. "I know."
"Spence, talk to me."
She hears the voice calling out to her, but she can't seem to piece together the words to answer her. Her friends aren't sure of what's happened, but they can guess by her appearance and instability that it has to do with her boyfriend.
"Is everything okay with you and-"
"Stop," she interrupts, and her friends are shocked. It's the most she's said all day-all week.
"Oh, so you can talk," Hanna quips, and Aria shoots her a glare.
"Not helping," she hisses.
"Do you wanna drop the mime act and tell us what the hell is going on?"
"Hanna," both Aria and Emily scold.
She just shrugs. "What? Tough love. "
"I don't think that's what she needs right now," Aria tells her, wrapping an arm around her friend.
Emily glances around the room, noticing that the picture frames that once lined her shelves are all tossed into the garbage in a shattered, broken heap. Spencer finds it fitting.
"Spence," she sighs, pulling out a familiar necklace from the rubble. She gives her a sympathetic look as she turns it over, seeing multiple scratches through the S on the front. It looked like Spencer had tried to carve it out, but to no avail.
She sees the necklace in Emily's hands and feels her face become wet with tears.
"Hey," Aria soothes, running her thumb across Spencer's cheek. "It's going to be okay."
She almost jumps when she hears Spencer snort, and exchanges worried looks with their friends when she continues to laugh.
"Is there some sick joke you want to clue us in on?" Aria asks, suddenly annoyed.
"Toby never loved me."
"And that's funny because…?"
"Oh, just wait. It gets way better," she answers, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Her friends give her questioning looks, but she can't control her laughter. They wonder if she actually has lost it.
"Toby's A."
The three freeze, their eyes wide with shock.
"Spencer, that can't be true," Emily tells her, but by the pained expression on her friend's face, she can tell that it is.
"No, I know Toby. I know he wouldn't do that to you. There's gotta be an explanation for all of this."
"When are you going to realize that you can't always find the good in people?" Spencer snaps. "He's A. He used me to get to all of you. He's destroyed our lives. He's threatened us. He's damn near killed us. Where's the good in that, Emily?"
"I'm just trying to stay positive," she mumbles.
"Have you…" Aria pauses, not sure how to phrase her question. "Have you seen him?"
"Do you mean after I found him clad in a black hoodie, standing in my kitchen?"
Aria flinches, not even able to imagine what she's going through.
Spencer's voice drops to a whisper. "No, I-I haven't seen him since. It's like he disappeared- like he never even existed."
Her friends are silent, not sure of what to say, so she continues. "I've been sitting outside his loft every day, waiting-hoping- that he'll come back. That it was all just a misunderstanding."
"I'm pretty pathetic, right?" she asks quietly, staring down at her sheets. She has yet to wash them, trying to relish whatever scent of his may be lingering on them.
"No, you're not," Aria answers fiercely, squeezing her friend tight.
"Is that where you went when you left English? My mom was really worried. We all were."
"The Catcher in the Rye," Emily sighs, suddenly realizing what triggered her. The other girls give her confused looks, but Spencer just nods her head, not having the energy to explain.
"Um, yeah," she admits, hanging her head low. "I just-I couldn't deal with it. I can't deal with it."
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Hanna asks, breaking her silence and stepping forward.
Spencer shrugs. "I don't-I don't know," she says, her voice thick.
"Well, we're all here for you."
She gives her a small, sad smile before something catches her attention: a small, sharp, scraping sound below her window. Curious, and a bit afraid, she jumps up from her bed and crosses over to the window, peering down into her yard. She sees a streak of black run through the trees, and she runs out of the room, nearly tripping down the stairs.
"Spencer!" Hanna calls after her, and the three girls follow her downstairs. But by time they make it to the main floor, the back door is wide open, and she's gone.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Come on," Aria urges, grabbing onto her friends' wrists.
"Spencer!" she yells, running into the backyard. She hears a rustle through the trees and can make out a faint voice.
"It sounds like she's yelling-"
"Toby," Emily interrupts.
Spencer keeps running, deeper and deeper into the forest that borders her backyard. She can hear him running somewhere in front of her, but she can't catch him. She eventually finds herself in an open clearing and stops dead in her tracks. He's standing in front of her, dressed head to toe in the classic A garb. His back is facing her.
"Toby," she breathes, taking a step towards him. Just as she does, the figure turns around. She lets out a cry of frustration when she takes in her face.
"You really can't let him go," Mona taunts in a mock-sympathetic voice. "You really should, Spencer. You need to move on," she demands, her voice cold.
"Where is he?" she yells. "Where's Toby?"
Mona gives her a smirk before taking off deeper into the forest, but Spencer can't keep up. Not paying attention to where she's going, she trips over a stump and collapses in defeat onto the ground. She bangs her fist on the soft terrain. She's beyond pissed.
As she pushes herself up, she notices a figure not too far in front of her, splayed out on the forest floor. She slowly walks towards it, trying to get a closer look. Something about it seems familiar, and her stomach drops when she recognizes the crashed bike that lies next to it.
"No," she whispers, but when her eyes land on his exposed skin, she lets out a pained scream as she collapses onto the ground; 901 Free at last.
"No!" She screams, reaching towards him. His helmet is still on, and she reaches for the shield to lift it, trying to confirm her worst fear.
"He's dead," Mona informs her, emerging from a thick patch of trees. "He thought he could run from me, but I had…other plans," she finishes, flashing Spencer a wicked smile.
"What did you do?" she shrieks. "What did you do to him?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"No. No!"
"You can deny it all you want, Spencer. But it doesn't change the fact that he's dead."
She wraps her arms around her knees, and soon she's rocking back and forth. She's in shock. Tears pour out of her eyes as she tries to erase the image out of her mind, but it doesn't help that she's all of five feet from his body.
Before she knows it, Mona's gone, leaving Spencer stranded in the middle of the forest.
"He's not dead," she whispers, tightening her grip on herself. "He's not."
She crawls over to his body and begins to nudge his side. "Toby, this isn't funny," she cries. "Please, Toby. Wake up."
"Dammit, Toby! Wake up! Please, please wake up," she sobs, clinging to the body. It can't be true. She won't allow it to be true.
But it is. She can't hold back anymore and she lets out an agonized scream. Her cries are loud, chilling, and she wonders if all of Rosewood can hear her. But she doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore. Whatever's left of her heart-of her soul-dissipates in that moment, and she's frozen, completely in shock.
"Stop!" Emily yells, and her friends come to a halt. "Did you hear that?"
They hear another loud scream, and it seems to be coming not too far from them. The three of them recognize it right away, and their eyes widen in fear.
They're all incredibly worried, and take off in the direction of the sound. "Spencer!"
"Oh my god," Aria gasps. They've finally found her, and see her crumpled in a pile of leaves. She's still lying next to his body.
"Please, Toby," Spencer sobs, grasping onto his tear stained shirt. "Please!"
"Hey," Aria calls, running up to her, but Spencer doesn't seem to notice. Or care.
She lets out another loud, agonizing sob, and Aria throws her arms around her. Emily and Hanna run to their friends and they all sit in a huddle, trying to console her. But it's no use.
"He's-he's-" she stutters, but she can't speak. She only continues to cry, emitting a shrill, pained scream that causes all three friends to jump.
"Spence, look at me," Aria pleads, trying to divert her attention from the corpse.
They all but lift her up, trying to pull her away from the scene.
"I have to be with him!" she yells, trying to pry loose from their grip, but it's no use.
"Spence, come on. We need to get you out of here."
She leans into her friends, nearly collapsing into them. Hanna wraps her arms around her and cradles her head into her shoulder, trying to calm her down. She knows it's a futile effort, but she doesn't know what else to do. No one does. Toby's dead. And there's no bringing him, or Spencer, back.
Spencer hears the metal door slam shut, but she doesn't move. It doesn't faze her- nothing does. She slowly leans back onto the thin mattress, and pulls the blanket up to her chin, shivering.
She's perpetually cold. Almost as if she was a corpse.
She looks at the small plastic cup of pills on the metal table next to her. Benzodiazepines. The small dosage alone doesn't numb her pain, so she throws the pills into her pillow case, adding to her existing stash.
Ever since finding Toby's body, she's been an absolute wreck. She can't talk, eat, or sleep. She can't feel. Her friends and family, desperate to get her some help, threatened to send her to Radley. But she didn't take it as a threat, she found it a solace. She can finally be alone. She can grieve without interruption, and she can lie in bed all day. She can completely unravel.
And she does.
"You have a visitor."
Spencer looks down at the foot of her bed, unaware that someone had even entered her room. Without question, she slowly sits up from her bed and allows the nurse to guide her to the common room. Her eyes fix on a small figure sitting on one of the couches, and her muscles tense. The nurse frowns, noticing her reaction to the surprise visitor, but decides to leave the two alone.
"What do you want," she seethes, sitting across from none other than Mona Vanderwaal.
Mona frowns. "Now is that any way to greet your guest?"
Spencer's eyes narrow and she slowly leans across the table, before she's nearly face to face with her enemy. "Leave."
Her tormenter smirks. "You should be happy I'm here, Spencer."
"Why is that?" she asks, her voice cold.
"I don't see any one else here to visit you."
Spencer flinches; Mona's right. No one's come to visit since she's been admitted. She's her first visitor.
"Tell me, why is that?"
She's silent, and Mona knows she's hit a nerve.
"They're glad you're gone," she tells her, locking eyes with Spencer.
"They're not," Spencer retorts, but part of her wonders if she's right.
"You must have been quite the burden. You gave them no choice but to toss your ass in the nut house. I don't blame them."
"I know how it feels," she continues, daring to reach out and pat Spencer's shoulder.
"Don't touch me."
"I felt exactly like you, you know, when I was in here. Alone, scared, helpless. Hopeless," she adds on in a chilling whisper. "What exactly do you plan on doing with those pills?"
"How-how did you know?"
"You better make sure your first attempt is your last. Unless you want to extend your stay."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please," Mona scoffs. "But you know, if you want a way out, I could help. I can make it a lot less painful, and a whole lot quicker."
Spencer shudders, but part of her actually wants to take her up on her offer.
"On second thought, you better make sure that attempt fails. You'd be lucky to extend your stay, because if you get out of here, you can bet your ass I'll finish the job," she threatens.
"I thought you said you were better?"
"Oh, I am," Mona answers, before giving her a smirk. "Better at my game."
Her eyes widen in fear.
"Being in here gives you a lot of time to think, doesn't it?"
"Leave," Spencer demands. "Now."
"And I always thought Hanna was the feisty one," Mona teases.
Spencer stands up from the couch, turning on heel to return to her room.
"I know what you're about to do," she tells her, but Spencer keeps walking. "I can only imagine poor Toby's face when I tell him what you've done."
She freezes in her tracks, slowly turning around to face her. "What did you just say?"
"How do you think he'll react when he finds out you're dead?" Mona asks, before adding, "If you do succeed, of course."
"Where is he?" she yells, and a few patients look up in her direction.
Mona just smirks, leaving Spencer's question unanswered.
"Answer me!"
"I don't think it really matters, do you? Why would he want to be with someone as unstable as you? The second you're discharged, he'll break up with you. You were right about one thing: he never really loved you."
Unable to fight it any longer, Spencer lunges at Mona, taking her to the ground. She pushes her shoulders into the hard floor and can see the fear in Mona's eyes.
Good, she thinks.
"Where is he!" she screams, and a flurry of nurses rush to the scene. It takes three to restrain Spencer, and a couple to help Mona up, making sure she's okay.
"I-I don't know what happened," she cries. "I was just trying to console her, and then suddenly I was on the ground."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Spencer snaps, fighting the nurses' grips.
"I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Vanderwaal," a small, blonde nurse apologizes, and escorts her to the exit.
"I wouldn't expect any more visitors, Ms. Hastings. As of now, your privileges have been revoked."
"Not like it mattered anyway," Spencer scoffs before being all but tossed back into her room. She flinches when she hears the door slam, and lies down on her bed. Her breathing is rapid, and she can't contain the anger coursing through her.
She jumps up, screaming as she flips over the small metal desk. It makes a loud clatter, echoing off the barren walls. Her chair goes next, and soon she's on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. How could Mona do this to her? How could Toby let her think he was dead? Mona was right about a couple of things: Toby never loved Spencer, and her first attempt better be her last.
"How is she?"
A distraught Toby Cavanaugh sits across from Mona in the A team's newest lair. He'd found out Mona met with her, and he was extremely desperate about the state he'd left her in.
Is this what you're looking for?
He shudders, replaying the sound of her voice in his head. The clatter when she dropped the storage unit key on the counter. The look of betrayal, disappointment, and pain in her eyes when he turned to face her. He can still feel the sting of the slap she'd so promptly given him. He knew it had been too late at this point. No matter what he would have said to explain, she wouldn't have believed him, and he wouldn't blame her.
Mona flashes him a smirk. "She's in Radley, you tell me."
His stomach drops. "Radley," he whispers, a tear escaping his left eye.
"Did you expect anything less?"
He's silent, picturing girlfriend being locked away in a mental institution.
"You've really messed her up."
"I was trying to protect her from you," he hisses.
"I think you should worry less about me, and worry about protecting her from yourself. After all, look what you've done to her. Faking your death. No wonder the poor girl's locked up.
His head snaps up in her direction. "What are you talking about?"
"I was just helping you, Toby," she tells him in a mock-apologetic voice. "Pretty easy to protect her when she's locked up, isn't it?"
"But even sanitariums can't keep close watch on all of their patients."
He gives her a confused look, and she continues.
"Has Spencer ever told you about her addiction problems?"
His heart drops. "N-no," he stutters. "Addiction to what?"
"Pills," she informs him. "And it looks like she's figured out how to work the system."
"What does that mean?"
"It doesn't take much at that dosage, Toby."
"What-"
"What else did you expect? You left her with no choice."
"Spencer wouldn't do that," he says, but he's not convinced.
"Wouldn't she?"
"No!" he yells, pounding a fist down on the table.
"I tried to talk some sense into her, but she's too stubborn for her own good. I'm sure you know that though."
"Bullshit you did."
"It's too bad her visitor privileges have been revoked. Maybe you could have talked some sense into her."
"What did you do to her?"
"I haven't done a thing. This is all on you," she tells him, and he believes her. How could he do this to Spencer? He was trying to protect her. He should've told her up front that that was his plan.
But he didn't.
"Oh, my god," he cries, placing his face in his hands.
"I'm sure I could find a way to get her out."
"At what cost?"
"Free of charge. It'd be a shame if she were to succeed. I have way too much fun with her."
"Mona," he warns.
She turns around to her computer, typing furiously. "There."
He's silent; he's confused.
"They really should have better security for their files."
Toby sighs with relief.
"I wouldn't get your hopes up," she tells him. "We're probably too late. She had quite the impressive stash. I'd hate to see all of that go to waste."
He jumps up from where he's sitting and storms out, slamming the metal door. He has to beat her to it. He can't lose her.
"Spencer Hastings," he says to the receptionist. He can barely talk; he's out of breath, and he's terrified.
She gives him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, you're too late."
"She's-"he tries to say, but she interrupts him.
"You just missed her."
"What?"
"She just checked out; you just missed her."
"Oh, thank god" he cries, jumping to his feet. He runs out the door and jumps into his truck, driving nearly double the speed limit to get to her.
He pulls up to her house, noticing all cars were there.
She's home, he thinks to himself. She's safe.
He knocks furiously on the door before he's met with an exhausted and annoyed looking Veronica Hastings.
"She doesn't want any visitors right now," she hisses.
But he doesn't listen. He pushes past her and, noticing she's not downstairs, all but runs up the stairs, tripping as he takes them two at a time. He makes it to her doorway and, noticing it's open, takes a tentative step inside her room.
Her back is facing him, and he can see she's shaking. His heart breaks. Mona was right: he did leave quite the mess; he's destroyed her.
He can see one hand in her lap, and other clasped to her chest, almost like she was holding something.
"I'm sorry, Toby," she cries, lifting the other hand to her mouth.
"Spencer, no!" he yells, grabbing her hand. His heart breaks when he sees the stash of pills still in her hand, and he looks into her sad, empty eyes. He grabs her other hand and opens it, revealing a familiar looking necklace. He turns it over in his hand and notices the S is carved out of the front of the tile.
She looks up at him and holds his gaze. It feels like seconds, yet hours at the same time.
"Toby," she whimpers, dropping her hands. The pills scatter on the floor, and he takes her into his arms.
He just cries, holding her tight.
"I'm sorry," she sobs, clinging onto him. She's glad he walked in on her in that very moment because she would never be able to forgive herself had he found her body.
He holds her, and his tears come faster as he replays the image of her, lifting the large handful of pills to her mouth.
"I didn't-I-you-"
"I know," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."
"Why?" is all he can ask, even though he has a pretty good idea of the answer. "When Mona told me…" he trails off, "I was so worried about you; I am worried about you."
"I stopped worrying about me a long time ago," she admits. She pulls back from his hold and notices the tears that stain his cheeks. She runs a cool, frail thumb over them, wiping away a few. He gives her a sad smile and she kisses him, tenderly. They melt into each other's arms and neither can keep from crying.
"Why would you do this to me?" she whispers, and his heart breaks.
"I was trying to protect you," he tells her. "I was tired of watching the person I love being tortured, and not being able to do a damn thing about it. I thought that, maybe, if I could control the game, or at least take part in it, I'd be able to protect you.
"Your body," she cries, referring to what she'd found in the forest.
"I wasn't a part of that. I had no idea Mona even did that until tonight."
"If I saw you falling apart the way I know you saw me…" she trails off, and he feels incredibly guilty.
"I couldn't do anything," he whispers. "Mona was watching my every move."
He looks down at the pills scattered about her bedroom floor. "Why would you do this to yourself?" he asks in a broken voice.
"I had nothing left to live for."
"I assumed you were better; you were discharged."
"I wanted to be in a comfortable place when I did it," she says quietly.
"Why did you think you had nothing left to live for? Nothing is worth taking your life over."
"I thought you didn't love me anymore," she cries. "I thought 'Mona's right: he never did love me. He's been using me all of these years.' I couldn't escape the pain."
"I'm so sorry," she wails, pressing her face against his shoulder. He doesn't know what to say, so he just holds her. "I just-I didn't have that safe place anymore. I didn't know what to do. I was so lost."
"You have that safe place now, Spencer," he tells her. "And you won't ever have to live without it again. I love you so much. Please don't ever do what you were about to do. I don't know what I would do if you succeeded."
"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "You don't have to worry about that anymore."
She means it. She knows it will take time for these wounds to heal, but for a brief moment, she feels whole again. Bit by bit, she can feel her heart being mended, the shattered pieces being put back together. She'd found her safe place to land, and she knows she'll never have to worry about losing it ever again.