"We need to put a stop to this," Veronica hissed to her husband in a hushed tone. "She can't do this ever again-she has too much to lose," The older woman's eyes cut to Toby, as if he were an object, instead of a third person present in the conversation.
He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. The pressure they placed upon their daughter was astounding in comparison to the amount of blame they took in her downfall.
"Veronica, we already discussed this. Spencer is aware of the consequences of her actions," Peter said in a tone that let everyone know he was done with this conversation and didn't want to hear any more of it.
Toby waited for them to continue, his gaze snapping between the two parents, waiting for an elaboration. Consequences to her actions? What were they talking about?
"Do you really think our daughter is going to agree to go to rehab without a fight?" Veronica asked her husband in an overly exasperated voice.
"Rehab?" Toby choked out, the word getting caught in his throat. Spencer, in a rehab?
Two days ago, he never would use the name of his girlfriend and any sort of drug in the same sentence. Now he had to watch as she was dragged off to a rehab center to be cleansed of the toxins in her system?
Its funny how you can be walking through life, upright and steady on your feet one second and the next you're flat on your back and you can't even remember the fall down.
"Toby," Veronica stated, as if he was opposing counsel instead of her daughter's boyfriend. "You said yourself that Spencer needs help. This is how she's going to get it."
"I know," He agreed after a minute, biting his tongue to keep from saying some of the things he really was thinking.
When your child goes from a picturesque, dutiful daughter, to a pill hungry, raging addict overnight, it's time to start looking at your parenting-or lack thereof.
Where were these people when Spencer was out fighting a black hooded monster? Where were they when she was almost pushed to her death in the bell tower or when she almost got thrown off a train or when she was knocked unconscious in a greenhouse or when she was found by park rangers, wandering around in the woods, her mind destroying itself until she couldn't function anymore? Where were they when she was pulling all-nighters in their very own house, popping pill after pill, until her body became a prescription bottle? How could they allow the thread between them and their daughter to stretch so far and so thin that by the time it was severed, they couldn't even feel it?
But in the back of his mind, Toby couldn't help but ask himself, where were you? She was crying out for help and he were M.I.A. She was upstairs, filling her body was poison, damaging her health, hurting herself, killing herself, and he was too preoccupied to even bother checking in on her.
Whatever burden her parents were supposed to shoulder, his was greater. Spencer, long ago, had acquainted herself with being unlovable to her mother and father. She didn't trust them. She didn't let them in. She had built walls around herself, to protect herself from being wounded by the very people who were supposed to be her rock.
He'd spent so long breaking down those walls, only to be the reason she had to build them back up.
He was supposed to be her safe place to land.
Instead he probably hurt her more than either of her legal guardians ever had.
He'd given her hope.
And to Spencer, time after time again, she was proven that her hope could only end her misery.
X.
"We need to find out who is giving her these pills?" Peter bellowed out into the silent air.
Toby had moved from his stance by the wall, to a bar stool, running his finger around in the glass of water Veronica had hastily handed him while pouring herself and her husband both drinks. He'd stopped listening to Spencer's parents long ago, knowing everything they said was laced with an underlying disappointment in their daughter.
As much as what Spencer did broke his heart, the more time he spent with her parents, the more he understood why she did it. Even more so than right now, he understood what drove her the first time, the summer before her sophomore year, when she initially got addicted.
The intense way the Hastings manufactured their family, like it was a defense strategy or a lawsuit they needed to strengthen, made him want to take some form of medication, just to breathe easy.
And Spencer was raised by these people.
"She said it was different people at school," Veronica answered, shaking her head in the direction of the stairs. "Do you know who that would be, Toby?" Veronica asked, turning her gaze in his direction.
He kept his eyes on his water glass as he spoke, "I don't know many of the people she goes to school with," He shrugged softly. Spencer didn't have many friends outside of her inner circle.
It was difficult to maintain distance friendships when your life was being threatened on a constant basis.
"You most know some people," Peter pressed, like he was a hostile witness. "Rack your brain. Think. Who does she spend her time with outside of you and the girls?"
Toby wanted so badly to ask why her father had no clue who she spent her time with.
"I can only think of people she knows from clubs," Toby finally blurted out, not completely sure if that was a sound answer. The way Peter and Veronica had crowded closer around him made him feel like he was the one in hot water right now, not Spencer.
"So decathlon or field hockey," Veronica whispered out-loud, a thoughtful look overtaking her features.
"Doesn't she take a yoga class?" Peter chimed in, sitting on the stool next to Toby.
"No," Veronica shook her head. "I think she quit that a few weeks ago."
"Eight weeks ago," Toby corrected after a few seconds went by. "She quit yoga eight weeks ago."
Both Spencer's parents went on like they hadn't heard him. "We need to get her phone," Veronica stated, looking towards the stairs again, as if their daughter was standing there. "We have to see who she's messaged."
Peter looked at his wife sardonically. "What are we supposed to do, go dig through her drawers until we find it? She isn't handing it over to us."
"We'll see," Veronica said absently, walking towards the staircase. "Spencer, come down here," The woman called in an commanding voice.
When there was no response, Veronica called again, her voice getting louder and angrier.
Peter rolled his eyes and poured himself another drink. "This isn't going to be pretty," He mumbled, more to himself than Toby.
Disgusted by the way Spencer's father regarded her in a crisis, when she needed love more than ever, Toby pushed himself off his seat just as Spencer made her way sloppily down the stairs.
He didn't know what exactly he expected but to see her face tinted a blotchy pink and wet wasn't it. When Spencer's eyes found him, she clutched the railing of the stairs a little tighter, before turning back to her mother, avoiding his eyes, ashamed.
"Spencer, give me your phone," Veronica demanded, her voice a little harsh, Toby thought.
She didn't need to try to instill fear in her daughter. Spencer had enough fear of her parents. Fear that they didn't like her, fear that they would one day up and abandon her, fear that she was all alone in the world.
Toby took a few steps closer to his brunette mess of a girlfriend, feeling an overpowering instinct to shelter her from her parents.
"Spencer," Veronica snapped when the younger girl didn't respond.
"Why?" She exclaimed, her voice unrecognizably high and fractured.
"Because your mother told you to!" Peter barked, walking over from his place on the bar stool to join them. "Hand over your phone, Spencer Jill-"
"Fine!" She cried, digging her phone out of her shirt and handing it quickly to her mother.
What both parents seemed to miss, as they turned their backs on their daughter to rummage through her phone, was the way her hands shook as she gave them her phone, tremors that went up to her arms and shoulders, like she was sitting in ice cold water.
Without thinking, Toby stepped even closer to her, grabbing one of her quivering hands in his own and tugging her down the last few steps, before wrapping both his arms around her tiny frail frame, positioning her head onto his shoulder, swaying her soothingly. "Spence," He breathed as if he hadn't seen her in years, instead of minutes. "I'm here, baby."
Her silent tears and trembles turned into loud, high pitched sobs that seemed to shake her entire body so hard it sucked all the energy that she had left.
Her muffled words seemed to be an attempt to apologize to him for putting him through this, but Toby didn't loosen his hold to allow her to speak with any clarity. "Shhh," He whispered, his hand cradling the back of her head, the other arm still wrapped around her shaking body. "Everything is going to be okay. We're going to get you better," He promised, hoping the words came out soothing instead of rickety. The last thing he needed was to make her feel like she had to comfort him.
Her sobs didn't seem to lessen at his words. He could feel her open mouth against his shoulder, her cries still filling up the room. Every single shaking, sob that ejected from her mouth, every single tear that came pouring out of her eyes, every time she sniffled loudly, every time her stomach shook against his, it was like a dagger to his already bleeding heart.
An hour ago he felt frustrated and betrayed by her. Now he felt his heart swell at the vulnerable girl, bawling her eyes out in his arms.
"Sweetie," Veronica called softly after a while, when Spencer's hysterical crying had turned to panting. Toby had almost forgotten her parents' presence in the room. Apparently so had Spencer as she jumped at her mother's voice before burrowing further into Toby. "Sweetheart, please come sit down," She patted the spot next to her on the couch.
Toby did notice though, that Veronica's voice had become noticeably softer at her daughter's tears. Her features had contorted from angry and distressed to concerned and helpless.
Gently, Toby wrapped one arm around Spencer's waist, as her sudden breakdown seemed to make her lightheaded, and guided her over to the couch, next to her mother.
Peter placed a box of tissues in front of his daughter, his own version of comforting.
Toby kept one arm wrapped around her as he pulled a Kleenex from the box and brought to Spencer's cheek, wiping her still falling tears.
"Honey," Veronica placed a hand upon her daughter's knee. "I looked through your messages. Was Andrew Campbell your supplier?"
Spencer bowed her head, trying to bite back another erupting sob. Toby moved his hand to rub her back softly, his other hand reaching for another tissue. "Spencer," Peter prompted, only slightly exasperated.
"I'm sorry," She cried, turning her face to bury into Toby's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I-"
"Sweetheart," Peter cut off softly as Toby wrapped her tighter in his arms again, allowing her head to fall against his chest. "We just need an answer."
Spencer gulped loudly, before nodding like the obedient daughter her parents had been trying to mold her into for years. "Yeah, Andrew. . . .and then another girl on the Decathlon team too," Spencer added, her voice still uncharacteristically high.
Both her parents sighed and Toby could almost feel Spencer's shaking get worse, like their disappointment had physical effect on her. "You're off that team, Spencer," Veronica's voice hardened once again, like she was oblivious to the fact that her kid was crying out for comfort, like making sure she knew the consequences of her actions were more important than physically reassuring her.
Toby's hand crawled up to the back of her head again, massaging her softly as she leaned into him further. "I'm sorry," Spencer rasped out, her mouth barely able to form the words.
Veronica just nodded, taking her daughter's hand. "Go, get ready for bed. You're going to need sleep for tomorrow."
Spencer froze, though she didn't seem surprised. "Are you really sending me to rehab?" She whispered.
"Yes," Her mother didn't hesitate nor did her voice falter.
"There isn't anything-"
"Spencer, what's done is done," Peter said firmly. "We had a deal and you broke it. Now you need to deal with the outcome." His tone remained almost professional, like this was his client breaching contract, not his daughter, scared to be exiled first thing in the morning.
Spencer just nodded though, accepting her parents' action, much to their surprise. "Okay," She whispered, pulling her hand out of her mother's grasp.
"Spencer," Veronica reached out to wipe away her tears.
Before she could touch her though, Spencer turned her head directly into Toby's chest again, pressing her face to his shirt.
For the first time, Toby saw Veronica react like a mom. Hurt etched her features as her daughter seemed to want none of her comfort.
But Toby couldn't gander up too much sympathy for the older woman, knowing she was partially to blame for the tears of the girl in his arms.
But so was he.
X.
After sitting in silence for minutes on end, the only sound Spencer's quiet sniffling, Peter finally suggested they all head to bed.
Veronica subtly rolled her eyes at his suggestion. With the amount of drinks he'd had, he'd be out like a light.
Peter eyed his daughter, who was still leaning against her boyfriend, looking sickly and weak, shivering not so subtly. "Toby, would you mind helping Spencer to bed?" Peter asked, quietly, still observing Spencer.
"Of course," Toby nodded, feeling somewhere in the back of his mind, grateful that Spencer's parents trusted him. Even if they were careless and cold at times, they were her parents and what they thought did matter.
As Peter headed to up the stairs, Toby stood up and, very slowly and very carefully, wrapped Spencer in his arms, lifting her off the couch, feeling her sag into him.
He cradled her gently to him as her mom watched on. "Toby," Veronica called after a second, just as he was about to head up the staircase. "Why don't you just stay with Spencer tonight. . . I'd feel better if she wasn't alone."
Trying to mask his surprise, Toby quickly nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Hastings," He tried to smile pleasingly but it ended up looking like a grimace.
Veronica seemed to understand his gesture as she smiled sadly back at him before clearing her throat and turning away.
Hastings very rarely show any sort of vulnerability. Vulnerability meant weakness and weakness meant losing and that was unacceptable among a family of such aristocrat.
Careful not to jostle her, Toby swiftly carried Spencer to her bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Less than an hour ago, Spencer had slammed the very same door, hoping to hide away in her scarcely lit room, from all her demons and monsters that seemed stalk her even when she was alone.
Demons and monsters that he couldn't protect her from. Demons and monsters that went even deeper than -A. They were a part of her.
"Toby," Spencer heaved as he set her on the bed, laying her on top of the covers while he clicked the lamp on. "Tobes, I'm so sorry," She whispered, her voice still cracked.
Toby shook his head before she had finished the sentence. "No, Spence. I'm sorry," He rebutted quickly, his own voice starting to break. "I'm sorry I didn't notice anything soon. I'm sorry I was gone-"
"It's not your fault, Toby," She insisted though her voice was barely over a whisper. "This is my fault. It's all my fault," She murmured, sitting up shakily to remove her shoes.
Though he was desperate to correct her, he could see she didn't have to energy to fight him and that's exactly what she would try to do. Placing a hand against her cheek, he whispered, "It's okay, Spencer. We'll get through this."
She leaned into the palm of his hand, resting her face tiredly. "Let's just go to sleep," She whispered, more of a plead than an order.
Nodding slightly, Toby began to pull his shirt over his head and quickly unbuttoned his pants, kicking them aside before turning to her and swiftly untucking her shirt from her skirt and tugging it over her head.
He found with little effort the long sleeved blue shirt she'd stolen from him after their first night together. "Lift your arms," Toby whispered once he'd unhooked and removed her bra, his voice soft as silk as he helped her into the shirt that once belonged to him.
He started to search for the little black shorts she usually wore to bed when he felt Spencer's hand reaching for him. "Don't bother," She rasped, her face turning to a darker pink shade. "I'm so hot as it is," Her words were eaten up by her heavy breathing. "I just want," She cut herself off, unable to continue her sentence.
Understanding for the most part what she was trying to convey, Toby finished removing her skirt and socks, leaving her just in his shirt and her underwear. "Shhh," He hushed as she laid back against the pillows. "Just rest, baby," He whispered to her, pulling the blankets around her and planting a kiss on her forehead. "Just sleep."
He climbed into the opposite side of her bed, his gaze never leaving her. He laid silently next to her, rolled onto his side to face her, fully aware there was little chance of him falling sleep tonight. His baby was hurting, bad, and he couldn't help but feel responsible for it. If he hadn't left town, if he hadn't been so flighty, maybe she wouldn't have done this, maybe he would have noticed sooner, nipped the relapse in the bud.
Apparently he wasn't the only one with remorseful thoughts. "I'm sorry, Toby," Spencer whispered, long after he thought she'd fallen asleep.
"Spencer," He breathed, about to dispute her apology but she cut him off.
"I'm sorry I'm such a horrible person. You deserve so much better than me."
Toby couldn't help but gap at her words. She couldn't actually believe that, could she?
"Spence," Toby breathed her name like it was a gulp of fresh water in the middle of the desert. "That's not true. You are not a horrible person."
Spencer shrugged, still lying on her back, facing the ceiling. "I feel like one right now," She whispered after a second, her hands starting to shake again. Toby scooted closer to her, close enough that he could tug one of her legs in between both of his, he could reach out and brush his fingers down the side of her face, he could see the tears in her eyes, shining like glitter.
Before he could think of the right words to say, Spencer blurted out quietly, "I just wanted to fix this-I wanted to fix everything and all I did was make it worse. So much worse."
Toby pushed his hand into her hair, massaging her scalp. "What did you feel like you needed to fix?" He pressed gently.
Spencer met his eyes for the first time since they laid down. "I feel a lot of the time like. . . like maybe what happened the night Alison disappeared was my fault," She admitted, adverting her eyes to the ceiling again.
Toby wanted for an elaboration that didn't come. "Sweetheart," Toby drew out slowly. "Why do you feel like what happened that night was your fault? You were asleep. Is it because it was your barn? Because-"
"That's not the reason, Toby," Spencer snapped, her voice stronger than it'd been since he'd seen her this afternoon. She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply.
"Spence-" He started again. Nothing she was saying was making sense to him.
"Toby, please," She begged, her tone borderline hysterical now. "I can't talk about this," She brought her hands up to her temples, rubbing furiously. "My head hurts too bad and I feel sick and dizzy all over again and I'm getting sweaty-"
This time he cut her off. "Okay," His voice was amendable now, seeing she was in no state to answer his inquiries. "It's okay, Spencer. Turn your back to me, alright? I'll make it better."
Spencer's expression turned to mild shock. "You can fix amphetamine withdraws?"
"No, but I can rub your shoulders and back. A certain brainiac told me that helps with headaches," He offered.
Nodding a little before complying, Toby felt Spencer's feet come in contact with his calves. "Thank you," She whispered softly.
Instead of replying verbally, Toby planted a kiss on her shoulder. "I'd do anything to help you." And he would. Had she called him prior to taking the pills, he would have walked through fire to stop her from relapsing and ending up exactly where she was now.
He'd fly across the world if it meant there was something there that would help her now.
After a long time of massaging her shoulders, Toby felt her begin to sag, her breathing evening out. He slowly moved his hands, very delicately, lower down her back and began running his fingers in soothing circles, like she loved, like she always wanted him to do when she had a particularly stressful day.
He traced her skin, drawing circles and squares and animals and words and anything he could think of onto her back. He remembered the days they turned it into a guessing game and she would have to predict what animal or word he was forming.
Toby thought that a memory like that would make him happy but it didn't. It left him cold and dissatisfied, with a bitter taste in his mouth, like swallowing pepper directly from the shaker.
Seeing her so happy then and seeing her so miserable now was like comparing the black winter night to a bright sunny day.
The more seconds that past, the more desperation started to crawl into Toby's brain. He needed to help her, heal her, fix her. No one else took care of Spencer and she'd been accustomed to taking care of herself long ago.
But she was drowning and he had to do more than throw her a lifeline.
He had to find her a life-jacket.
Racking his brain, he scanned over all the things he could do to help her.
None of them seemed good enough. She did this-drove herself to a maniac extreme-for answers to questions she wasn't willing to share with him yet.
She wouldn't tell him the truth and no one else would tell her the truth.
Will the circle ever be unbroken?
X.
When Spencer awoke, Toby was sitting up, by her head, fully dressed but he was still staring at her, a look of love in his eyes, like he hadn't adverted his gaze all night. She felt groggy and moist and achy and sick.
She knew this was just the beginning.
What Spencer didn't see when she first woke up, was the suitcase by the door and her mother zipping it closed.
"Mom," Spencer said, barely able to find the energy to sit up.
Luckily she had Toby, who guided her against the pillows to prop her up.
"Get dressed, Spencer. Your father is almost ready to leave," Veronica ordered, her voice all professional now, as she made her way over to the closet and pulled out an outfit at random, placing it on the bed.
"I'm leaving right now?" Spencer's eyes flashed to Toby, her fear seeping its way in. She'd never been to a rehab facility before. She didn't want to be sent away, away from her friends, away from Toby.
Veronica sighed deeply, her eyes falling on her youngest child for the first time this morning. "Sweetheart, I'm just doing what I think is best."
Spencer nodded, understanding but still not on board with this. Half of her wanted to scream and yell and say she wouldn't go but the rational side of her told herself she had tried to do it on her own and failed miserably. She had been trying to help her best friend but in the end, she'd caused more harm than good and probably made things harder on Aria.
Just as she was at her height of self-loathing, she felt Toby's lips against her sweaty forehead. "Your parents are just thinking of you, Spence. They're trying," He stressed the word, knowing the fact that her parents-who she'd spent her entire life wishing would give a crap about her-trying was more important to her than she would ever admit.
Instead of responding to his statement though, Spencer just whispered, "I'm so sorry, Toby."
As if he could read her mind, he understood the underlying thoughts behind her words. "You," He cupped her face, bringing her forehead to touch his, "Are not a horrible person," He whispered, looking directly in her eyes, basically blowing the words in her face.
Spencer swallowed, unable to completely grasp his promise in her state of withdraw. Finally though, she whispered, barely audible. "I wish I could believe you."
X.
A half hour later, Spencer was at the door, watching as her dad piled her bag into the car, ready to drive her off to whatever rehab her parents had arranged. Spencer felt like she'd been crying nonstop for weeks, but she still couldn't stop the moisture building up right now.
How did everything get so messed up? Spencer didn't let things get like this, ever. She fixed everything. She fixed everyone.
The real problem was she didn't allow anyone to fix her. Not even herself.
Shamefully she gulped, breathing in deeply, half due to her withdraws and half due to the fact that her caring, wonderful, dedicated boyfriend was about to wish her goodbye as she drove off to rehab to be detoxed.
Spencer still couldn't believe she'd allowed it to spiral so far, that she ended up in this state. To the point where she'd put Toby through so much, to the point where he must hate her. Or resent her.
She knew from experience, resenting someone is a lot worse than hating them.
Slowly, finding her voice, Spencer whispered his name. Instead of forcing out another broken apology though, she whispered, "Thank you."
Toby didn't respond right away, just staring at her the same way he'd stared at her all that time ago in the hotel room. "Spence," He breathed, engulfing her in a tight hug, squeezing her into his embrace like she was a cure he desperately needed.
"Don't think this is about you," She blurted out while her face was pressed to his shoulder. "Don't ever think you could have done anything differently. You've been my sanity throughout everything. You've always been beyond wonderful to me."
"Baby," He whispered and she felt his tears dampen the shoulder of her shirt, where he'd buried his face. "We both know that isn't true."
Before she could respond, her father walked through the door with her mother in tow. "Spencer, let's go," Peter beckoned.
Nodding, for once doing exactly what her parents asked, Spencer pulled away from her boyfriend, bringing his hand up to her lips. "I love you," She whispered, allowing one tear to fall before squeezing her eyes shut to stop the rest.
Toby cradled her face in the palms of his hands, wiping the trail of moisture and bringing his lips to her forehead. "I love you too. So much."
Peter and Veronica were growing impatient. "Spencer, come on," Peter called from the doorway.
When Spencer didn't move an inch, Toby moved both his hands from her face to her upper back, rubbing comforting circles over her shirt. "I know you're going to get through this, Spencer. You're the strongest person I've ever met.''
On a normal day, Spencer would have smiled or kissed him and said something grateful or equally sweet. But today, all she felt was tired and sick and unworthy of the love Toby was showing her when she believed she'd failed so completely, time and time again.
Pulling back, she said quietly, "Bye, Toby," and dropped his hand that she'd been clutching so tightly.
X.
Minutes after they left, Veronica called his name from where she'd move to sit on the couch.
As Peter had driven her daughter away, she had stalked away, rather distraught and a complete 180 from her usual demeanor. She'd mumbled words like, she couldn't watch this and why did this happen to her daughter.
When he turned to look at the woman now, she appeared the picture of collected and calculating.
Just like the mother Spencer had always described to him.
"Toby, I asked you to stay last night for more than just to take care of my daughter through her withdraw," She began. Her words sparked his anxiety strongly. He could tell just from the tone of her voice, that whatever she was about to say, he wouldn't like it. "I wanted Spencer to get to spend some time with you before she left. I do believe you are the best thing for my daughter," The words clearly were hard for the woman to say but they both knew they were also true. "But when Spencer gets back, certain things are going to need to change and it's going to be a while before she can see anyone."
And just like that, Toby knew things were about to get a lot more complicated.