It's only half-past the point of oblivion

The hourglass on the table

The walk before the run

The breath before the kiss

The fear before the flame

Have you ever felt this way?

("Glitter in the Air" - P!NK)

Scrabble

It was a cold, rainy morning in Rosewood, Pennsylvania. Spencer Hastings was feverishly busying her anxious hands by making yet another pot of coffee. She gripped the handle of the decanter tightly as she poured water into the pot's chamber, struggling to steady her tremors.

The morning after the most disastrous day and night of her life-and so far, the transition from one day to the next had done little to soothe her worries. She and her friends had spent 32 hours in police custody, battling to prove their innocence. And yet-those 32 hours had felt like a lifetime.

She nervously tapped her fingernails against the marble countertop, waiting eagerly for the second pot of coffee that morning to complete its brewing cycle. To be honest, it was a wonder the police had even let them leave-the evidence, Spencer had to admit, was pretty damning. However, her parents had fought tooth and nail to get the girls released. And by some miracle of God, in the midst of Spencer's catatonia at the police station, she found herself being escorted out and driven home.

Neither of her parents had spoken for the entire duration of the car ride. Their uncomfortable silence made Spencer feel as though she had already been convicted. Was their silence driven by disappointment? Confusion? Skepticism?

...Accusation?

At the time, Spencer found that she did not care much about the reasoning behind the silence. After a day and a half of endless questioning, she was admittedly relieved to solely be listening to the gravel crackling beneath the tires. But now, she could do nothing but characteristically overanalyze it.

And Toby...

She felt a momentary sear of anguish in her heart. She was trying her damnedest not to think about him. It was the only way...

A gentle rapping on the door shook Spencer from her reverie. She felt her heart belly-flop into the pit of her stomach, and instinctively grabbed a nearby sauce pan.

The door slowly opened. Spencer exhaled heavily in relief. Hanna.

"Spence?" Hanna asked tentatively, eyeing the vice-like grip Spencer maintained on the pan.

"What?" Hanna nodded indicatively toward Spencer's weapon. "Oh. Sorry," Spencer murmured, embarrassedly returning the pan to its prior location. She noticed as Hanna stepped aside that Aria and Emily were in tow.

"How are you feeling?" Hanna asked quietly, leaning on her elbows against the counter. Hanna's normally-flawless face showed her exhaustion, sporting make-up lines and under-eye baggage.

"Fine," Spencer fibbed easily, turning to attend to the now-finished pot of coffee.

"Have you even slept?" Aria questioned, approaching Spencer and affectionately scratching her back.

"Have you?" Spencer countered, inexplicably angry at her friends for asking foolish questions.

"Spencer..." Emily began lightly, seating herself on one of the stools at the counter.

"What?" Spencer interrupted harshly, wheeling around. Aria leapt back, startled. "What do you guys want me to say? 'A' wins, yet again. They forced us into this mess. It's like, no matter what we do-it's never right."

Hanna sighed heavily. "My dad won't even speak to me."

Aria nodded in agreement. "Blackmailing Jackie only fueled the fire more."

There was a moment of silence before ever-empathic Emily declared what Spencer could not say: "And Toby..."

Another pregnant pause in which the girls gauged Spencer's reaction. Spencer struggled to maintain passivity in her face.

"Yeah. And Toby," she agreed quietly, pouring her coffee.

"There's nothing you could have done, Spence," Aria offered, leaning back against the counter so as to meet Spencer's eyes. "You did what you had to do."

"I couldn't have done it," Hanna whispered somberly. "If 'A' was telling me to get rid of Caleb, I would have tracked the bitch down and shown her what getting rid of someone looks like."

"Thanks, Han," Spencer muttered sarcastically into her mug, greedily gulping the bitter beverage.

"What Hanna means to say," Emily began, shooting Hanna a purposeful look, "is that what you did was really brave. And it must have been hard."

"Right," Spencer said impassively.

"What did your parents say?" Hanna asked. Spencer was grateful for the pseudo-segue.

"Nothing. Not a word since we left the police station." Spencer gently set her mug on the counter, eyeing the steam that poured from its contents. "They left early this morning to talk with the D.A."

"What do you think is going to happen?" Emily asked. Spencer noticed now that she, too, looked exhausted. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for being so irritated with them before...After all, Emily had endured a near-death experience. In the broad scheme of things, it was selfish to be sulking over a break up when Emily had almost died. Emily had been 'A's primary target for weeks. And yet, she continued to handle it like a trooper. If 'A' was truly looking for the so-called "weakest link," Emily was doing a damn good job of deflecting that stereotype.

"I don't know. I heard them talking this morning before they left. Something about circumstantial evidence...tampered fingerprints on the shovel...I'm not sure."

Aria exhaled heavily. "Well...let's hope the D.A. is willing to hear them out."

"I look horrible in orange," Hanna murmured under her breath. The other three stared at her, perplexed. When she noticed their eyes, she flipped her hair off her shoulder indignantly. "What? Let's face it. The only person with the complexion to pull off those hideous jumpsuits is Emily."

Spencer rolled her eyes, but felt considerably more lightened at Hanna's indirect joke. As much as Spencer adored each of her friends, she found herself frequently grateful for Hanna. Aria and Emily had always been good at comforting Spencer when she was upset...but somehow, her pride often preferred humor in lieu of discussion. And Hanna always seemed to sense that need within Spencer.

Another gentle rap at the door. The four girls whirled towards the source of the knocking, puzzled.

"Who could that be?" Aria demanded worriedly.

Within moments, her question was nonetheless answered. The door flew open and there stood Toby, looking as though a fire had been lit in his pants.

"Spencer," he declared seriously as their gazes met. Try as she might to resist, Spencer could feel his ice-blue eyes already navigating the depths of her soul, searching for answers.

Aria and Emily exchanged hesitant glances. "Let's...go upstairs," Emily decided.

Hanna wasn't paying attention. She had busied herself with making a comical face with the fruit from the fruit bowl. "What the hell are we going to do upstairs? All Spencer has up there is books." She rolled her eyes.

"Han," Aria stated definitively, grabbing her by the forearm.

"OW! Easy! I'm coming!" Hanna whined as Aria and Emily escorted her away.

Spencer finally managed to tear her eyes from him, tracing the print of her mug with her thumb. Despite breaking the gaze, she could feel his eyes still burning into her. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here?" Toby demanded, dead-pan. He approached her quietly, reaching out to take her hand. She flinched away.

"You shouldn't be here."

"A lot of things shouldn't be happening right now, but are," Toby argued. He gently placed his hand below her chin to raise her face to meet his eyes. Upon meeting his gaze once more, she felt a tremor in her knees, suddenly feeling quite powerless.

"I...I can't explain it, Toby. I'm sorry..."

"Can't, or won't?" he inquired, cupping her cheek in his palm. His hands were warm and inviting, providing much-needed comfort in the cold kitchen.

"There are things I can't talk about," she insisted, striving to gather her wits to tear away from him. "It's not fair to you."

"I don't care about fair," Toby insisted. "I care about you." He had begun to lower his face towards hers. She could smell peppermint on his warm breath.

"That's why I have to do this," she argued, at last forcing herself to pull away. She turned to face the window, watching as the drizzle pattered against the glass. In its reflection, she could see Toby watching her.

He inhaled sharply. "Is...is there someone else?"

"Kind of. I mean, no. I mean-yes. I mean-it's not what you think." Truth be told, there were other people in the equation. 'A'. Ali's killer, if they were two separate people. Wren, in some twisted synchronistic way.

She heard him chuckle bitterly behind her. "That clears up a lot."

"I don't know what else to say." She breathed heavily to steady her voice and fight back the tears that she could feel stinging the corners of her eyes. "You need to leave now." To illustrate her point, she marched to the door and pulled it open for him, unable to meet his eyes.

"How about at least trying to help me understand why the hell you suddenly want nothing to do with me," Toby commanded, irritation rising in his voice. To counter Spencer's request, he slammed the door shut with one hand. "Spencer. I love you. I know you, better than you'd like to admit. And I know that there's something going on...something deeper than you're letting on."

Spencer was practically gasping for air now, feeling an ensuing anxiety attack. She wanted so desperately to tell him everything...but how could she? How could she tell him all the things that would put him in danger?

"It's the only way to keep you safe," she blurted, before properly considering her response.

"Keep me safe?" Toby demanded curiously. "What do you mean?"

It was as though the proverbial bottle within Spencer had been shaken to its boiling point. She felt a sudden explosion of emotion within her soul as tears began uncontrollably leaking from her eyes. "Your brake lines were severed. You said it yourself. It...it wasn't an accident." Her voice broke on the word 'accident'; she was struggling to hold back the sobs that were stubbornly climbing her throat.

"What?" Toby asked seriously. "What are you talking about?"

Her entire body was trembling now. Suddenly everything was spiraling out of control. And try as she might, she was quickly losing her grasp on the last of her sanity.

"I love you," she whispered hoarsely, unable to form any further explanation.

"Spencer..." he murmured, sliding his hands to the small of her back and pulling her close. He gently rubbed her shivering spine as her body began wracking with sobs. Unable to see any reasonable alternative at this point, she buried her face in his chest and allowed herself to cry. The feeling of his heart beating beneath his pectoral was inexplicably comforting. She knew that she couldn't live without him. Try as she might, she would never forget the way his arms felt around her. The way he understood her, better than anybody ever had before. The way he effortlessly made her feel so safe.

How could she possibly do the same for him without breaking both of their hearts?

Toby pulled away gently and took her hand. "Come here," he said softly, leading her towards the couch. He quietly sat down. Spencer looked desperately at the empty space beside him, but was quickly losing the battle with her common sense. Instead, without being able to stop herself, she collapsed into his lap and buried her face into his neck once more.

"I wish you could tell me what's going on," he whispered, his hand delving into her uncharacteristically-unkempt hair. He affectionately twirled locks of it around his fingers.

"I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you," she muttered into his neck. She felt his muscles tighten as he craned away to look at her.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," he insisted cluelessly. "Everything is going to be fine."

"But it wont," she argued through another sob, grateful that they had become less frequent. "It won't..."

"Spencer, listen to me," he stated matter-of-factly, taking her face in his hands once more. She felt her heart skip a beat when she looked into his eyes. "I know there are things you can't tell me...And I understand. But I want you to know that if there-if there is some kind of risk for us to be together...I don't care."

"Don't be stupid," Spencer muttered desperately. "I couldn't let you-"

"I'm not finished," he interrupted gently. Spencer closed her mouth, marveling at his unique ability to silence her. "I need you to know, Spencer...no amount of pain would keep me away from you."

"That's foolish," she repeated somberly.

He sighed and shrugged dejectedly. "Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. But if there is some dangerous force out there, threatening me or threatening you...We have to be in it together. It's the only way to beat it."

Spencer felt her bottom lip involuntarily tremble. In some way, she knew he was right. She knew that she could never survive 'A' without his support, no matter how indirect it was. 'A' had tricked her, anyway-had tricked her into thinking that by keeping Toby away, that she would get the answers she needed. That Dr. Sullivan would be found, safe and sound. Neither of those promises had been upheld.

And a new logic was bubbling inside her chest. A new, morbid logic:

If 'A' wanted to hurt Toby, they would do it. It didn't matter what demands Spencer followed. And how could she possibly forgive herself for pushing him away, if he was ever hurt? 'A' wanted control, point-blank.

And Spencer hated allowing other people to have the control.

Where was the strong will that she had prided herself upon for so many years? When had she become a pawn in 'A's game? If there was any way to beat 'A', Spencer and her friends were going to have to fight back.

"What are you thinking?" Toby asked quietly, wiping away the last tear from her cheek.

She released a shaky exhale, finally feeling the steady rhythm of her heart returning. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He studied her face for a moment in silence. There was an unspoken understanding formed right then, as they were so easily able to do. After the entire episode of the past 48 hours, Spencer suddenly felt the first semblance of relief that she had had in hours.

Toby slowly leaned forward, entrapping her bottom lip between his own. She felt herself go weak in the knees, as she so often did when he was around. She couldn't explain it. It was perhaps the one thing she was content with not being able to rationalize.

She deepened the kiss, adjusting her positioning in his lap so that she was straddling his hips. His hands dove once more into her hair, pulling her face as close to his as he could manage. Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she gently rocked against him, fumbling beneath his shirt to trace her fingers along his abdominal muscles. The desire was so powerful, she found herself forgetting that her friends were upstairs and her parents could return at any moment.

He pulled away suddenly. To keep his attention, Spencer began tracing a line with her lips beneath his ear. "Spencer," he protested breathlessly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Spencer. Slow down." He pulled her face to meet his eyes, smiling in amusement.

Spencer suddenly felt self-conscious. "What? What's wrong?"

He shook his head, gently planting a short kiss on her swelling lips. He sighed heavily. "Nothing. It's just that I'm already late for work. I was already written up this week..." He gingerly lifted her from his lap and replaced her on the couch. He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets resignedly.

"Do you...have to?" she questioned childishly. She knew it was a foolish question. But truthfully, she didn't want him to leave her side...

"I'll come back over as soon as my shift ends. I promise." He bent down to place a single kiss on her forehead, beginning to walk towards the door.

"Toby?"

He turned toward her, expectantly.

"I love you."

He smiled softly. "I love you too." He placed his hand upon the door knob.

"Toby?"

He turned once more.

"Can...can we play Scrabble later?"

He chuckled. "It's a date." With that, he pulled the door open and was gone.

Spencer maintained her seat, trying to piece together all that had just happened. It all seemed such a blur...

"Spence?"

She turned to find her friends jogging down the stairs, having heard the door close.

"Well? What happened?"

Spencer sat there quietly, unable to form an explanation. Even in her own brilliant mind, she remained hopelessly confused.

"We're going to play Scrabble later," she whispered. She didn't bother looking at her friends' confused expressions. She knew what it meant. And that was all that mattered.