Hey Guys! So I decided to write a sequel to my other fanfic, called "Redemption", which you can read here. .net/s/7667489/1/Redemption

So while we eagerly await the arrival of the PLL premiere, I was hoping that we could all indulge in some Spobyness. And I promise that, unlike my past fanfics, this one is happy. ;)

Live. Love. Spoby

-AJ

"Spencer!" Melissa cried out to me from the kitchen, where she stood with baby Taylor in her arms, fixing her some formula. "Can you please check the porch? I'm expecting a new lamp for Taylor's room – they are supposed to send it today."

"Got it!" I called back, getting up from my space on my bed, closing my French textbook and heading for the stairs.

The kitchen was disastrous, with dishes piling up and empty baby food jars scattered this way and that. My poor, widowed sister stood at the counter, her hair tied up in a messy bun at the top of her head, looking like she hadn't slept in days. Things had been much better between us, seeing that I had discovered my own epiphany that the fighting between us was pointless. I had been helping her quite a bit, but she had relieved me of my services for about an hour to get some homework in.

I passed her and left out the front door, onto our porch. I looked around the chairs and plants for a cardboard box, but no such box was in sight.

A flash of white caught my eye. It was an envelope, tucked beneath the mat in front of the door. Curiously, I stooped to pick it up, sliding it from under the mat. I turned it over to read the back. There, in spiky handwriting I knew too well, was my name. Only my name. No return address, no stamp. Just 'Spencer'.

My heart pounded in my throat, my chest turned as cold as ice. I hadn't seen him since about two weeks ago, during our rather unpleasant yet insightful session at Redemption – a seminar for 'troubled teens'.

Melissa's voice sounded like she was a million miles away as she shouted, "Spencer? Is it there?"

"Uhm, no. It's…it's not. Sorry, Melissa." I called back, hardly able to hear my own voice over the thudding of my heartbeat. She hollered something back to me, but I didn't hear.

As if in a trance, I slid my shaking fingertips beneath the mouth of the envelope, tearing it open. Inside was a single folded sheet of paper, and I tugged it out. Carefully, I unfolded it and collapsed in the wicker chair behind me. I let my eyes skim over the words:

Dear Spencer,

You are probably opening this letter with your signature Hastings sigh and eye roll, muttering to yourself about how I just need to get the message and move on, because you sure as hell aren't coming back.

And you probably have the right to be.

I know that you expect me to just walk away and get over you, like some typical guy would. But, if there is anything that I've learned in this town, it's that I'm nowhere near a typical guy. I most likely never will be. But Spencer, if there is one thing that you can do for me, it would be to finish this letter. Then, you can do whatever the hell you want to do with it, but please, just know this. Even if you forget me completely someday, I want you to know the truth, if only for a moment. I don't want you to hear it from anyone else. I want you to hear it straight from me.

I know that I've always made my choices – they may not have all been acceptable – but I know that I did one thing completely right.

And that was opening the door when you came to my porch that day, your eyes like a doe debating on whether or not to trust the hunter. I could have slammed that door in your face, and stayed in the hidden shadows I had become so fond of during that dark time in my life. But I didn't. And you could have decided to never come to my house anyway. You could have regarded me as "Toby Cavanaugh who murdered Alison DiLaurentis on September 1, 2009." But you didn't. You had the strength to see through the gossip. You gave me a chance to prove myself, something no one had ever done for me.

And I will never be able to thank you enough for that.

You made me realize just how important it was to trust. Even after it feels as if everything you thought you knew was gone. You made me want to risk everything for a love worth having.

Never did I think on that day when you came to tutor me, that I would fall so in love with you. I never pictured myself being in love. It just didn't seem possible.

But, that's just it, Spence. You made me believe in the impossible.

And I know that you might walk away from all this thinking what a waste of time I was, for whatever reason.

And I respect that you want to keep your distance. But I won't stop fighting. When a soldier is hurt in battle, the troop doesn't give up the war. They keep going.

And I may be wounded, but I'm not done. My heart still beats, slowly but surely. And it beats for you.
One might expect me to regret not holding onto you tighter, not securing you as my own without a doubt before you fled my life. But I can't. Even if I had known that our time together would be cut short, I wouldn't do anything differently.

Because that would have meant regretting something about you, Spence. And I could never do that.

I love you. I know that I've said this more times than you want to hear, but I do. You just need to know that. And that's okay if you have lost your love for me, because it was worth it to have that moment when you did. Even if you never said it, it was there. Keeping us tethered together, and it's what makes me want to keep fighting. To have that love again.

I wish that I had said more to you when you approached me after the seminar, that I had told you what was really on my mind. I guess I was just afraid of pushing you further away.

Judging by the hell I went through with Alison's murder investigation, one might think that I would have wished that it never happened, that things had been different. But I don't. Actually, I'm thankful. Because it led me to you. And it was worth it, just to have had you, even if it was only for a moment.

And I know it may seem like I'm trying to run away from you by accepting that job in Pittsburg for the month, but I'm not. I want to give us both a chance to breathe, but I'm not walking away. I never will. I'll always be here, waiting in the shadows, until you decide that you want me back. And even if you never do, I just want you to find happiness again some day. Even if it is with another guy. As much as it would hurt to see you with someone else, if it made you happy, then it would be able to be happy about it as well.

When I leave tomorrow, I just want to have some bit of reassurance that you know this. All of it. The whole truth.

And I hope one day that you will be able to realize that I don't care about the lies, about the past, or about the future. As long as I could have you, I wouldn't worry bout anything but the present. Even if I went to Pittsburg, or Pasadena, or even Prague, as long as I could call you my own, I would be at home.

When I was younger, my father used to be obsessed with C. S. Lewis. He read all his books and talked about them to my mother and me way too much. Most of it was just nonsense to me, but I did remember one thing he told me. C. S. Lewis once said that "Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives." But I don't believe that. For me, or for us, it has always been ten-tenths. What we had was the only thing solid and durable I could count on. It overpowered everything else of importance, and made them pale in comparison.

I'm sorry that things couldn't work out between us. You can ask me to walk away, Spencer. But you can't ask me to stop loving you. You can't ask me to stop hoping.

And I won't. I'm going to keep hoping that maybe one day, you'll be able to have that same hope again.

-Toby

I covered my hand with my mouth as the tears poured out, onto the page, running the ink. The page fell from my trembling grasp and fluttered to the floor, as I tried to choke back sobs. I curled up in the chair and tried to calm myself, but nothing worked. No man had ever loved me like Toby Cavanaugh. And, based on this letter, it didn't seem like any man ever would again.

And I had let him go.

It was as if I were looking into a mirror, and instead of seeing my own face staring back at me, I saw Alison's. I was exactly like Alison. Having something perfect in front of me and not willing to risk everything to have it. Alison could give up on someone faster than Hanna got to a Juicy sale. And I was just like that now.

And then I saw it. Like a slap across the face, it came to me. A had told me to keep Toby safe. And what good was I doing pushing him away, where A could get him? I had thought that if he stayed away from me, that he would be safe. But I couldn't guarantee that. I wouldn't be around to make sure he was protected.

I realized that if A wanted to hurt Toby, they would have to go through me. Our paths were too intertwined to be separated. Hurt one, you hurt us both. If I couldn't be there to protect Toby, then who would?

I bent over to snatch the letter up from the damp ground, rereading the last part, as a thought bubbled to the surface.

Tomorrow. He had said he was leaving tomorrow. And the letter was dated…yesterday.

I might still have time.

He might not have left yet. Without wasting a single second, I got to my feet, left my porch and began running barefoot, clad in my t-shirt and sweats, down the street. The light sprinkle of rain started to pick up, but it didn't slow me down.

When I finally made it down the block to the street where Cavanaugh's house was, I saw it. The tan truck I had gotten for him, after pawning Melissa's ring. The same truck he had told me he loved me in front of. The same truck we had kissed inside so many times. The same truck I broke both our hearts in.

And I stopped for a second down the street to catch my breath.

Then I saw him. Dressed in his old jeans and that ratty blue t-shirt I loved so much. He was carrying his suitcase to his trunk bed, along with a few toolboxes.

And I couldn't wait a second longer.

"Toby!" I screamed, running down the road towards him.

He turned, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but I was already there. It was almost as if we were in slow motion as I finally reached him, throwing myself into his arms, slamming against him and gripping him desperately. I heard the clank of his body crashing against the back of his truck as I smashed into him.

He was surprised for a second, but then he dropped his suitcase and toolbox and his arms came around my waist, his face settling against my hair. "Spencer?"

"Please don't go. I'm so, so sorry. I wanted to come back." I whispered through my heavy breathing, burrowing my fingers in his shoulder blades and pressing my face into his neck. I rushed to get the words out. "That day, in the few hours before I got arrested, and again when you brought me that rocking chair – I wanted to tell you so much. I wanted to stay, but I couldn't." I was crying again, something I so rarely did.

Toby tightened his arms around. "Shhh…Spence, it's okay."

"No, no it's not. You kept fighting and I gave up. I turned you away when we needed each other the most. I'm so, so sorry. I needed to come back. I couldn't bare the thought of you leaving without you knowing how I felt."

"What made you change your mind?" He asked softly in my ear.

"Because I realized something."

He waited for me to finish. I pulled back about an inch to look into his eyes – those baby blues that I just loved so completely – and took a deep breath. "I realized that I want to fight for you, no matter what the cost. I realized that that day when I bought the truck, that I should have said that I loved you too. But I didn't. So I'm saying it now. I love you, Toby. So much. More than you'll ever know."

Something lit in his soft, unguarded eyes and he leaned in close. His fingers reached up to wipe the tears from my eyes. "I do know, Spencer." He murmured softly.

And because I couldn't stand it a second longer, I sealed my lips over his. His mouth was as warm and soft as I remembered it, and it was as if I was starved and I was finally getting fed. In a way, this kiss was better than any other kissed we'd ever shared. Because it wasn't a bittersweet countdown to the end.

No, this kiss marked the beginning of something new. Something beautiful. Something real.

Something I wouldn't let anyone take from us again.

And there, in the sprinkling rain that was turning into a downpour by the second, I began to have hope that hope again.

Because as we broke away from each other, laughing softly and catching our breath, there was no A. There was no complication. There was only Toby and Spencer, and all the endless possibilities we had together.

And that would always be enough for me.

Because whether it be in Heaven, or Hell, or Rosewood, or with A in the picture, as long as I could call Toby Cavanaugh my own, I would be home.

If you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.

-Mother Teresa

Thanks guys! I hope you like it! Only four more days! Remember to review! Thanks to all my lovely Spobettes, who stick with my through all the hardships. - Jenn, Tiffy, Bree, Elif, Cassie, EJ, and Lauren.

-AJ