A/N: The previews for the final season (depressing, isn't it?) made me look back at this past season of South of Nowhere, and both the episode with Carmen's tantrum at Chelsea's studio, as well as the webisode "Almost Hotness" where Spencer is about to tell Ashley what happened before getting interrupted, got my mind churning. This is a different take on things with a different ending, just a one-shot, short and sweet. Let me know what you guys think!

Ashley lay in bed, gazing down at the cell phone in her hand. She should have gotten her nighttime phone call from Spencer, but it had never come. It was a school night, and studious, focused Spencer had to have been home at this point; she never stayed out late when she had school the next day. Her mind began to spin into all the possibilities as she shifted on her mattress, readjusted her pillow, and waited. It wasn't like there was anything she could do.

"Ash?" Kyla asked tentatively, knocking on Ashley's half-closed door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Ashley said. Kyla came into her room and sat down on the bed next to her. "You didn't go to Ego tonight."

"I'm bored of Ego," Ashley admitted.

"I'm not!" Kyla laughed, irritating Ashley. But she wouldn't say anything. She had, somehow, come to love her sister more than she ever expected she would. "I met the cutest guy tonight, too."

"Well aren't you the luckiest?" Ashley said sarcastically, sourness dripping from her voice. She was getting frustrated with the lack of Spencer's voice. She missed the girl she'd spent two years with. The phone calls were not enough. She missed going to the beach and hanging out at Spencer's, just wasting time and talking and laughing and being together. Her life felt dry and boring.

"She hasn't called?" Kyla asked quietly, sensitive to Ashley's insecurities and fears. She knew her sister better than Ashley thought she did.

"Not yet," Ashley sighed, frustrated. "Do you think she forgot? Maybe she fell asleep?"

"Maybe," Kyla shrugged. She considered this. "It seems unlikely, though. Spencer's pretty organized with that type of thing."

"Should I go over there?" Ashley wondered out loud.

"Have you tried calling her?" Kyla suggested.

"Yeah. Four times. No answer." Ashley bit her lip. "And nobody was at her house, either. I guess I can call Chelsea? Maybe she'll know where I can find Spence." Kyla nodded as Ashley got out of bed, pacing back and forth in the room wearing boxer shorts and her bra. Kyla couldn't help but grin when she saw how nervous Ashley was. It was clear that there were feelings between Ashley and Spencer that hadn't been sorted out completely.

"Chelsea? Hi. It's Ashley. Do you know where Spencer is?" Ashley asked, all in one breath. She was speaking quickly and looked flustered. She needed to find Spencer. Needed to know that everything was fine; that she was just overreacting. "Oh, really. It's just—she's not picking up her phone. And, you know, she always picks up, so I got worried." Ashley picked at a cuticle as she listened to Chelsea's response. "Well, have Mr. and Mrs. C. called her? Oh, okay. So she thought she'd—I get it. Maybe I should go over there? To check? Would you mind?" Ashley held the phone between her shoulder and ear as she raced to slip on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that she could leave the house in. She found flip flops and shoved them on her feet. "Thanks, Chelsea," she finished, snapping the phone shut and sliding it into her jeans' pocket. She snatched her keys on the way out of the room.

"Bye!" Kyla called after her, giggling at Ashley's impatience and rashness.

…

Ashley parked her car outside of Chelsea's studio and noticed there was no car outside. The wheels in her brain began to turn. Chelsea had said Spencer and Carmen were going to hang out at the studio. That probably meant that Carmen had driven them there, so maybe they were both gone. But Ashley needed to make sure. Her messy brown curls flew as she ran up the flight of stairs, opening the door to the studio. It was dark, but when she turned on the light switch Ashley realized the place was a mess. Something had clearly happened—paint and canvases were strewn all over the room, several of Chelsea's easels were tipped over and broken on the floor, and brushes were scattered everywhere. As Ashley's eyes surveyed the studio, assessing the damage, they fell upon something lying in the corner—a body, which she all too suddenly realized belonged to Spencer.

"Fuck. Oh shit. Fuck—Spencer? Spencer!" Ashley rushed over and picked up Spencer's hand, which was cold. She turned Spencer's body over and listened for a pulse, which she found, and exhaled thankfully.

It was clear, though, that Spencer had been attacked. Her eyes were dark with heavy bruises, and green-blue shapes of fingers were painted on her neck. Ashley squeezed her eyes tight, wondering what must have happened, and realizing it all too clearly. She brushed the blond hair out of Spencer's face, touching her cheek and eye gently with her forefinger, trying to erase the bruise and the pain.

"Hey, Ash," Spencer whispered, croaking slightly, her eyes fluttering open at the familiarity and comfort of Ashley's touch.

"What happened, baby?" Her anger had dissipated when she noticed Spencer's fragile state. Her Spencer, hurt like this—it made her want to scream, but she kept that hostility in check, at least for Spence.

"Nothing."

"This isn't nothing, babe," Ashley sighed, flashing the bruised girl a weak smile. "Carmen?"

"Don't put the blame on her," Spencer retorted defensively.

"I'm only putting the blame on her because I don't know who else it could have been!" Ashley started, getting heated. She looked at Spencer's expression and calmed again. "I'm sorry, I just can't stand to see you this way."

"Is it bad?" The glimmer of wetness that promised tears shone in the corners of Spencer's big, blue eyes.

"Oh, Spence," Ashley cooed, gathering the other girl in her arms, wishing her bruises and soreness away. "Spence, baby, what the hell did she do to you?"

Spencer knew she couldn't hide anymore, not with the only girl who could read her this well—the only person who could read her this well. Ashley could see into her eyes and somehow know everything that was going on with her; every emotion, every thought, every hurt. "She has a temper, I guess, and I don't know how to keep it in check."

"You shouldn't need to keep her temper in check, Spence."

"If this is what her temper ends up looking like—" Spencer gestured to her battered face. "Then, yeah, I need to keep it in check."

"That's not what I meant," Ashley replied. "I meant that her temper shouldn't look like this, and if it does, you shouldn't be anywhere near her. This isn't fair to you."

"Hey, Ash?" Spencer asked, looking up at her tiredly. Ashley nodded eagerly. "Can we…can we talk about this later?"

Ashley smiled. "Sure. Sure we can. Let's just, um, get you home, okay?"

"Okay." Spencer put her palms to the floor to try and push herself up. With Ashley's aid, she got to her feet, and she hobbled towards the studio exit. Ashley's arm was slung around her, propping her up. "Thank you."

"Any time," Ashley replied, her sincerity coming across in her earnest tone.

The drive was silent. Spencer was hurting, and Ashley didn't know how to make it go away. And she hated that she couldn't—that she couldn't fix this mistake. She didn't know what to do besides curse out the window at Carmen, somewhere far away, and maybe go out into L.A. and try to find the girl and kick her ass. She knew this wasn't the reaction that Spencer would like, so she kept her overwhelming anger in check.

She wanted to question Spencer, too—wanted to know exactly what happened, what had warranted the other girl's viciousness, her violence. How had Spencer ended up on the floor with bruises? Her Spencer? The Spencer with all the strength, the bravery and the fight, in the world—how had this happened?

Finally they pulled up to the Carlins' home. The house held plenty of memories for both girls; in some ways, it was the birthplace of their relationship, with all its complexities and struggles, but a beautiful one regardless. Ashley wished to death that there was still hope for them yet, that there was still a little bit of chance that that relationship could continue, could flourish, like she knew, in her heart, it could.

After a moment, Ashley spoke. "Let me help you in."

Spencer looked at her, eyes big and blue, ringed with a purple-tinged swelling, full of fear. "Ash? Can I…Can I stay with you?"

Ashley nodded, relieved, white teeth emerging in the broadest of smiles. "Of course, Spencer. You can always stay with me."

Spencer smiled back, leaning back in her seat. "I'd rather not have my family see me like this. They'd freak out."

"Sort of like I did back at the studio?" Ashley asked knowingly, backing out of the Carlins' driveway, looking over her shoulder as she drove back into the street.

"I don't blame you. It must have been a little scary," Spencer admitted shyly, looking down at her hands.

"Very scary," Ashley confirmed, glancing at her passenger. "My heart stopped. I didn't know if you were breathing. Of course I was scared."

Spencer nodded. "Thanks, Ash. For getting me out of there."

"Wasn't going to leave you with those broken easels."

"I know, it's just…we're not together anymore, not like we used to be, and I know you have no obligation to help me out anymore, and I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it. You going out of your way for me."

"Spence, I didn't go out of my way. And I don't look at you as an obligation, not ever. You have to know that. I know it's not like it used to be, between us, but I care about you more than anyone in the world. I would do anything for you."

Spencer blushed now, looking at Ashley, unable to hide her happiness. "I would do anything for you too. I just…it was real, when you came into the studio, you know? You came for me. I didn't call you, but you came."

"You didn't call me, so I was worried," Ashley explained. "Because you always pick up your phone, and you weren't answering."

"That's what I mean," Spencer continued, eyes shining. "You just knew."

"I knew something was wrong," Ashley agreed. "And I'm glad I checked up on you. Who knows what would have happened if you had just been passed out there all night."

Ashley parked, helped Spencer out of the car, led her up to the loft.

"Yo, Ash? Did you see Spencer?" Kyla called when she heard the door open, then close. She wandered to the front of the loft, a spoon in her mouth and yogurt in hand, to see Ashley half-carrying Spencer. "Oh…um, hi, Spencer."

"Hey, Kyla," Spencer said in a whisper, losing her strength.

Kyla walked closer, seeing the bruises on the blonde girl's pale face. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

"Obviously she's not," Ashley hissed, glaring, at her sister. "I'm going to take her into my room."

Worried as she was, she also knew her sister, and Kyla knew that Ashley was going to make sure Spencer was okay. She only hoped that the two girls could figure out their choppy relationship and reevaluate where it had brought them. Neither girl had been happy, as far as Kyla could see, and she only wanted happiness for them. It was clear, as it always was, for Ashley and Spencer: happiness would come for them when they were together. Kyla saw that clearly. Maybe tonight was what would finally make the two stubborn, headstrong girls finally see that too.

…

Ashley didn't feel as though she were being invasive as she slid the clothes off Spencer's limp body. They were way past that point. Spencer felt closer to her than anyone in her life before. There was a connection and a bond between them that somehow had weathered the intricate complexities and challenges of their relationship. They had a long history together, a friendship that had blossomed into something more, a tie between two girls who couldn't let one another go.

She couldn't help but marvel at Spencer, her Spencer, different in so many ways from the shy, modest Ohio girl she'd met years before. This Spencer wore a black bra with lace, and Ashley didn't know if she could really contain herself.

"God, you're gorgeous." It slipped from her lips, and kohl-rimmed eyes quickly darted up to meet the other girl's to anticipate her response.

Spencer smiled her little embarrassed, blushing smile and allowed Ashley to move around to her back and unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor. The brunette ran her fingertips down Spencer's smooth, creamy back. Goosebumps quickly sprang up in the path of her touch, and Spencer shuddered, slightly. Ashley couldn't help but grin. She loved that she could still get that reaction out of Spencer.

Ashley helped Spencer into a tank top to sleep in. Spencer let her. Spencer hobbled over to the bed, Ashley's arm around her waist, assisting her.

Ash was the one who turned the lights out and turned to the other girl in the darkness, the blond girl with a face of deep blue-purple bruises.

"Spence?"

"Yeah, Ash?"

"Do you ever feel like we made a mistake?"

A heart-renching silence followed. It had taken the accumulation of quite a bit of courage to work up that question, and Ashley felt immediately crushed by the quietness that followed it.

"No," Spencer began. Ashley bit her lip—indirect rejection. "Everything happens for a reason. I don't know that we could be so close now if it weren't for everything that has happened to us."

Ashley calmed with this explanation. "Oh."

"If we had fought and argued and confused ourselves into destroying what we have—would we have this at all?" Spencer asked.

"I don't know." An honest answer, from the most brutally honest girl in Los Angeles.

"I feel like this—this, what we have right now—this is special," Spencer admitted, her shy demeanor peaking through once more.

They fell into a comfortable silence. "Hey, Spence?"

"Mmhm?" Spencer was getting sleepy, now. The challenging day had nearly broken her, had it not been for Ashley Davies coming to her rescue.

"Do you think we could go back to where we were before?"

"When before?"

"Before all the mess. Before your mom tried to keep us apart, and before Aiden got in the way, and before prom and the shooting and before Carmen?"

"I can't forget all of that, Ashley," Spencer reminded her somberly.

Ashley hesitated. "I know that, Spence. I know how much all of that—it's our history, and it means something—but maybe we could keep all of it with us but…but…"

"But be together again?" Spencer asked, filling in the words Ashley could not say. They were the words she did not have the heart to utter, because if they were rejected, she was not sure her heart could keep going.

"Yes," Ashley sighed, relieved that Spencer had intercepted her ramble.

Spencer grinned—a lopsided grin, but the happiest one that a girl with a broken face and an aching body could manage. She kissed Ashley—sweetly, without the hunger it might have had, because they knew there were a million kisses to come. Their past would be woven into the future they were creating together. There would, no doubt, be challenges to their relationship, but the stability and safety and comfort and the feeling of right that invaded Spencer as Ashley wrapped her arms around her, never wanting to let her go, happy that she would never have to—that feeling was meant to last a lifetime.