AN: So basically after 5x15 I was left with a million unresolved Spoby feels and knowing they're probably not going to work it out with coming Tuesday, I decided to write an little oneshot on what would happen if Spencer got attacked by -A, post Spoby fight, after Toby ditched her crying, in the middle of the street.
Reviews are your friend.
He knew things were getting worse. They were getting worse all over. -A was striking harder than ever before, taking their sick games to new levels that included executions, blowing up houses, planting evidence and framing innocent people for murders of people they'd never met. Hanna was starting to suspect that she may be next in line for –A's wrath. All signs pointed to her being -A's new flavor of the week. Aria sent out a too honest college admissions letter-which didn't really reach the same level of severity as the other girls but Aria's problems rarely did. Emily was heartbroken and utterly lonely, neatly flailing on the edge of hysteria and isolation as of late. And Caleb and Spencer's paranoia led them to new levels of danger.
Criminal danger.
Destroying evidence.
Only, their paranoia might not have been unwarranted.
Toby knew, deep in his gut, what Spencer had been through in the last two years. All the agony and turmoil she suffered, day in and day out, arguably being -A favorite target. He knew that Spencer was right the night he bit her head off outside the Brew. She said she needed protect herself, that she and Caleb were doing what was right for them. He knew the fear glistening in her eyes only further proved how starved she was for security and safety, two essential feelings of life that the black hooded enemy stole.
But he still chose to walk away. Her words, "You once told me that I could tell you anything," and her tears broke something inside of him and he couldn't deal. He wanted to skip town, the way he always opted to when things got too hard to handle. But he stayed-his job was no longer as flexible anymore-and he instead avoided his brunette beauty, hoping to also avoid the feeling of guilt that washed over him when he thought of her words again.
He couldn't avoid it for a second.
And now it was a hundred times worse.
He had been sitting in his kitchen, doing God knows what, when his phone rang. The caller ID was not a regular caller and it was not the person he had hoped deep down it would be. It wasn't his brainy, witty, smart ass Spencer Hastings.
It was her mother.
"Toby," Veronica Hastings' voice was clouded, like it was choking on its way out of her mouth. "Toby, someone broke into our house," She cried, her voice taking on level of anguish that he didn't think he'd ever heard before.
Toby heard someone's breath catch but it wasn't until Spencer's mom spoke again that he realized it was him. "Toby, Spencer's. . . ." Veronica went to comfort quickly, clearing her throat, but her sentence died prematurely. "Jason heard a loud noise from next door and came and found her. He took her to the hospital but . . . she's hurt. Bad, Toby," Veronica's voice rose to a new octave. "Could you please come down here? I know you haven't come over for a few days and I don't know what exactly is going on but," Her voice cut off short again as she heard the sound of an engine. "I'll see you soon."
Toby was speeding out of the driveway before he even registered the call ending.
His only priority was getting to Spencer. Spencer, who had acted out of fear a few days ago and he'd ripped her to shreds over it. He told her she couldn't confide in him anymore. Her safe place to land was ripping its way out from under her.
What if he hadn't dodged her? What if he could have saved her from this? What if he hadn't pushed her away? Would she have shared her fears? Did she see this coming? Did she blame him, like he felt like blaming himself right now?
These were the thoughts that haunted him as he raced down the halls of the all too familiar hospital, frantically looking for a nurse's station to ask for directions, when he heard a male voice called out to him, "Toby?"
He spun around to see his friend down the hall. "Caleb, where's Spencer?" He asked, forgetting small talk. "I need to see Spencer, now. Where is she? Is she-"
"Dude," Caleb interrupted, shutting the taller, older boy up. ''Follow me."
Toby quickly fell a few steps behind Caleb as they walked down the hall, an awkward silence that honestly, at that moment, Toby didn't even care about, fell over the two boys.
"How'd you know where to find me?" Toby finally asked quietly as they turned down the hallway that led to the E.R cubicles.
"Hanna sent me looking for you," Caleb stated blankly, his voice not exactly kind. "She said Spencer needed you," He added as they got closer to the curtained off area.
If Caleb said anything else, it went in one ear and out the other, as Toby came within ear shot of cubicle that belonged to his girlfriend. He heard a quite a few voices all talking at once but he didn't hear the voice he was craving to hear so desperately.
Any hesitation of seeing Spencer was long wiped from his mind as he finally reached the rest of the group, shoving his way past the group of girls, uncharacteristically rough and flinging the curtain aside.
His eyes fell on his lovely, chocolate haired, Spencer, lying in the hospital bed and his eyes began to water before he even registered moisture build up. Toby cautiously sat on the edge of her bed, his eyes never leaving her face. "Spence," His voice attempted to form her name. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, trying to maintain control over his emotions.
But Spencer was hurt, and unbearably so.
And he had been AWOL.
The guilt tripled as he heard her whisper his name, no malice in her voice. ''Toby," She cried, her voice so small and so fearful, it made new tears sting Toby's eyes.
"Baby," He croaked, his hand rising to touch her injured face, only to drop it before it made contact. "I'm right here, baby."
"H-hold me?" She whispered, her already fragmented expression crumbling.
Toby didn't need to be told twice. He gently pulled her battered body upwards from the pillows, cradling the back of her head like it was a soap bubble, rocking her in his arms. "I'm here, baby," He whispered to her one more time, feeling her hot tears spilling into his neck. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there but I promise, I'm not leaving you again," He swore before realizing what he was saying. The words were coming out like bile and he couldn't contain them any longer. "I'm going to stay here with you. I'm going to protect you," He promised again, tightening his arms around her fragile little body, tucking her deeper and deep into his hold. "I love you, I love you so much. You're my Spencer and I'll never let someone hurt you again," He couldn't stop, even knowing he was babbling within earshot of nearly a dozen people. He didn't even realize he was crying until he felt Spencer shake her head against his neck.
"I'm the one who screwed up," She sniffled, her voice a little stronger when he was holding her. "What I did was so stupid-"
"Spence," He hushed, kissing the top of her messy, curly head, "You were trying to protect yourself. It wasn't stupid, okay. I should have handled it better. I shouldn't have walked away,'' He let his voice trail off, unsure how to atone for that. He knew it was something that caused her deep pain and yet, again and again, he continued to ditch when life got rough around the edges.
"No, you shouldn't have left," Spencer finally agreed, pulling back slightly to meet his eyes.
Toby felt his heart break, not only at her words but at her black and blue appearance. Both her eyes were bruised, but one was swollen shut and puffed up. Her nose was a scratchy pink, with a dark bruise on the bridge. Her cheeks both sustained scratches and red swollen skin, the left side of her face now sporting stitches to close the gash stretching from the middle of her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her normally rosy lips were now the color of blood, with stitches also closing a badly split lip. Two of her perfectly white teeth were chipped.
There was a dark, angry pink line ringing around her neck, claw marks and deep purple bruises on her arms. Her nail beds were chipped and her one wrist now was wrapped in an ace bandage. Her hair flowed messily around her head. Her ears still had blood in them.
Toby didn't know how to process this much pain at once and he wasn't the one wearing the white gown.
He wanted to kill the person who did this. Hunt them down, hang them from a meat hook, beat them to a bloody pulp, throw them to the side of the road like trash.
He wanted them to rot in jail, with the hugest, most inhuman cell mate ever.
He wanted to wrap Spencer up in his arms and shower her with all the love in his heart. Kiss her tears, stroke her hair, whisper all the nice, comforting words he could think of. Reassure her she was stronger and she'd heal. Cuddle her, love her, soothe her.
Option number three was the only one in his control.
"No," Toby finally repeated, his arms unable to completely let go of her, still clutching her small body to his, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I shouldn't have left you alone. Ever,'' He whispered against her forehead.
Much to his surprise, he felt her head snuggle deep into his hold. "I'll forgive you if you keep your promise and stay," She murmured against him, her voice faltering.
Toby's head was bobbing so fast, he had to refrain from head butting her. "Always," He whispered in her ear, pressing a kiss to the side of her face. "Always, always, always."
Much to Toby's surprise, Veronica and Peter both seemed to expect his constant presence at their daughter's bedside. As the hours ticked on by and the now freshly repaired couple were joined by all the people who'd been crowded outside the cubicle, Spencer's parents seemed to grow impatient with everyone else. Everyone but Toby.
Right before midnight, Veronica suggested the others make their way home. It wasn't an uncalled for suggestion. Spencer's doctors had informed them minutes before that Spencer was going to need her rest. What surprised Toby were Veronica's words after that. "Toby is the only person who is staying with her tonight, girls. She needs to relax."
None of them looked like they wanted to leave. Hanna, Aria and Emily-and Caleb for that matter-were more frightened of -A than ever.
Toby didn't blame them. Not for a second. But having three terrified friends wasn't going to help Spencer now either.
The three friends hugged Spencer-very gently-goodbye, tears in their eyes like they never expected their leader to be the one who was lying in this hospital bed, battered and broken. Toby couldn't say he was shocked though. Something like this happening to his Spencer was the exact reason he became a cop. This is what he was trying to protect her from.
He knew how fragile Spencer could be underneath her veil of strength and her tough words. He knew she was delicate when you got down to the surface.
He loved being the only person who knew that.
He just wished he knew how to take care of that side of her better.
His constant leaving only served to hurt her more, break her down further. There were nights after his stint on the -A team, after her time at Radley, when he held her in his arms and almost felt like he wasn't holding a girl but all the little pieces of her that'd been shattered by his actions alone. He didn't understand how she loved him, in spite of what he did and continued to do.
He loved her. She was his entire heart. But when he left, he sometimes was scared to come back. He was scared of what he'd find. He told himself he had to leave, that his walls were closing in, that he couldn't breathe.
But when it was time to return, it never failed to shock him just how scared he was to see what had happened in his absence.
Something always happened to Spencer when he went missing. Mental hospitals, pill popping, almost being shoved off a cliff. Now beaten to a bloody pulp.
He felt sometimes like all the horrific things that occurred in his absence were his fault.
It was why he became a cop.
And then this happened.
Hanna's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Take care of her," She whispered, touching his shoulder.
He placed his hand over her's. "Of course."
Toby spent the better part of the night rethinking his life decisions. After the girls left, Spencer was moved into her own private room and settled in for the night. Not long later both her parents excused themselves, saying they were going down to the station to talk to Tanner and other officers investigating the attack, and, surprisingly, gave Spencer two very warm, heartfelt, sweet goodbyes. Left alone to cuddle on the hospital bed with his bruised girlfriend, Toby couldn't help but let his mind wander.
What if he'd not walked away after their fight? What if he hadn't avoided her calls and texts? What if he talked to her, worked it out, made up? Would he have been there when this happened? Could he have saved her?
When he voiced this to Spencer, she shook her head against his chest where she was currently relaxed. "No," She whispered sleepily. "No. This isn't your fault," She insisted.
But Spencer was attacked and he failed to protect her once again. She was his baby and he let her slip through the cracks.
Why was he even a cop if Spencer was still going to be victimized left and right?
When he voiced that out loud, she squirmed away from him roughly. "Spence, what's wrong?" He asked anxiously, searching for the help button.
Suddenly he felt a huge kick that almost knocked him off the bed. "I'm not a victim," She roared angrily, her voice raw and scratchy, making it evident just how much she screamed during the attack. "I'm not," She repeated hoarsely, her voice cracking, "a victim."
Toby felt his own head shaking before he'd even processed what she was saying. "I didn't mean it like that, Spencer," He amended. When her expression remained upset, he reached out to touch her bruised cheek. "You aren't a victim, baby. You're strong," He reassured in a whisper, basically blowing the words softly in her face.
"I'm not a victim," She whispered again, letting her face fall into a more vulnerable exterior.
"You are not a victim. You're the strongest person I've ever met in my life."
A few seconds passed before Spencer finally broke eye contact and looked down at her lap. "I don't want to be a victim," She finally whispered. "I want to be a fighter."
Seeing the tears begin to form, Toby gently tugged her into the circle of his arms again. "You're my fighter."
Three days passed and Spencer grew exceptionally bored in the hospital. Toby stayed with her, day and night, but even his presence couldn't keep her entertained for long. "I want to go home," She moaned against his shoulder when they were alone. "I'm so sick of hospital food and I want my own bed," She complained.
Her attitude had altered between snippy and hysterical her entire stay. She bite the nurse's head off for accidentally dropping water on her blanket, she complained that they never gave her enough blankets, they made too much noise all night, her pain medication wasn't strong enough anymore and how she was never going to finish high school because they wouldn't discharge her.
Toby knew though, that if he had to be confined to a hospital bed, covered in bruises head to toe, unable to see out of one eye, struggle to speak clearly because she had stitches in two places of her mouth and chipped teeth combined with a constant headache, he'd be pissed too.
His concept of her physical pain though wasn't completely clear until later that afternoon when an older, coffee colored skin, heavy set nurse entered the room, stating Spencer needed a sponge bath.
The brunette argued she was well enough to take her own shower, transparently unhappy about being dependent on anyone for help.
"Honey, you can't even stand up," The nurse stated, filling up the basin with warm water. "Boy, you need to leave," The nurse ordered Toby.
"I don't want him to leave," Spencer stated venomously. "I want my boyfriend to stay with me."
This didn't seem to really bug the nurse. "If he's staying, he's helping. Get some towels from the drawer."
Wanting to help, Toby quickly hopped off the bed and rifled through the drawers for a towel. But when he turned around, he was in for a shock. Spencer's hospital gown had been removed and her stomach was visible for the first time. He expected a few bruises, but he had no idea the worst of it was hidden under the papery garment.
Her entire body was covered with splotchy black, blue and purple bruises and Toby thought it must have resembled his heart at that moment.
"Baby," He whispered, mindlessly walking towards her. How could anybody do this to his Spencer? There was no one that cruel.
"Do you just hold that towel for fun, boy?" The nurse barked from Spencer's other side.
Her words snapped him out of his trance but didn't change his emotion at all. "Sorry," He mumbled, his eyes flickering between the older woman and Spencer.
"Get some water on that towel and start washing. You aren't here to watch," The nurse nodded towards the water basin.
Toby made his way over to the basin and swiftly dampened the towel. "Turn on your side, sweetie," The nurse directed, helping Spencer turn over. "You take her front, I'll take the back," The nurse instructed Toby as he lathered up the cloth.
Slowly making his way back over to his girlfriend, Toby took in the bruises on her body again, his eyes focusing on her shoulders now, which had bruises that almost resembled hand prints, like someone kept shoving her down. Her ribs were also taped, he noticed, indicating cracks. As the nurse tugged the blankets down and placed a towel underneath her, Toby's vision focused in on the welts and contusions on her slender legs too.
Spencer's voice finally declared, "Can you stop staring. You're making me feel like a zoo animal," quietly.
Toby's gaze snapped up to her face instantly. "I'm sorry," He whispered so soft, the nurse didn't even hear it.
"Toby-"
"No, I'm so sorry I let this happen to you-"
"Toby, you didn't-"
"Boy!" The nurse belted out again. "Either start using that wet towel or get out."
Softly, Toby brought the towel to Spencer's bruised shoulder, rubbing calming circles over each inch of her skin. He carefully made his way down both of her shoulders, collar bone and chest. He noticed Spencer avoiding his eyes as he reached her stomach and her ribs.
Cautiously, like he thought she was made of glass, he began to wash the bruises that made his insides twist and his stomach churn.
Before long, the nurse and Toby were done and cleaning the supplies up. "I can help her into that," Toby stated softly as the nurse pulled a fresh paper gown out of the cart.
The nurse mumbled, "Finally, you're useful," but handed it to him nonetheless as she exited the room.
Spencer was still avoiding his gaze as he sat down on her bedside. "You weren't supposed to see that," She whispered, looking at the ceiling.
Toby shook his head as he gently guided her right arm through one hole and then her left. "You have nothing to hide, Spencer."
"I know, it's just. . ." She trailed off. "It's embarrassing."
"No," Toby stated softly but firmly, "It isn't."
"Not because I got attacked . . . just, having people stare at you like, I don't know, they're scared of you."
Toby pressed his lips to her forehead as an apology. He had done that. "I just can't handle that someone could do this to you and I wasn't there," He admitted.
"It's not your fault," She whispered.
"I know." But it didn't ease his guilt at all.
Spencer hesitantly looked up at him. "It hurts," She finally whispered. "Everywhere."
Her eyes filled with tears, swelling her battered eye further. He felt her chest shaking up and down because of his close proximity. He couldn't stand this. He needed to make her better, any way he could.
Toby brought her arm to his lips. "I'll kiss it better," He promised against her skin, his lips trailing upwards, over every single bruise she bared. He tugged down her hospital gown slightly, bringing his lips to her shoulder, then the side of her neck where the attacker had left a dark, pink ring, their intention clear.
He felt his face grow wet, thinking about how close they clearly came to succeeding.
It took a couple seconds though, to realize those were her tears falling on his face.
"Toby," She cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her damaged face into him.
Without thinking first, he put his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, snuggling her as tight as he could. It was hard to tell if his embrace was painful to her but she didn't protest at all, further curling herself into him. "Toby," She sobbed again, her chest shaking against his now. It occurred to him this may be the only time she allowed herself to really break down.
She had a habit of bottling everything up, pushing her emotions away, rationalizing that tears didn't help anything.
But she was also highly sensitive and a very easy crier. He knew that and sometimes he wondered if he was the only one.
These two sides of Spencer often battled each other for dominance.
This time her sensitive side won.
She'd feared for her life.
And he wasn't there.
He went to cop school, he got a badge to protect her, he changed his entire life in order to keep her safe.
And he still couldn't stop this.
Something inside Toby snapped. Everything he'd done had been in vain. Even after all the sacrifices he'd made to his relationship with Spencer, he still didn't intercept this. He still wasn't enough to protect her.
Maybe being a cop wasn't what he needed to become to protect her. Maybe he needed to try again.
Because even as a carpenter, he never, ever felt this powerless.
"Toby," She cried again, louder, her fingers grasping the collar of his shirt.
"Shhh," He hushed, his hand cradling the back of her skull, pressing her face tenderly into his neck. "Let it out, baby. Cry. I'm here," He whispered into her hair.
Her body racked with sobs, harder and harder.
He shut his eyes, his body rocking her back and forth, like an inconsolable infant, repeating comforting words in her ear. "I'll protect you. I will never let anyone hurt you again. Never."
He would protect her. No matter how, no matter what he had to do, no matter what happened.
Whether he was a cop or not.
Spencer was released two and a half weeks after her attack. As her parents signed the paper work, Toby packed up her bag for her. "I can do that, really," She stated from her seat on the end of the hospital bed. She was dressed and ready to leave. All that was stopping her was the discharge papers.
Toby waved her off, zipping the bag shut. "Let me do something for once," He commented.
Spencer rolled her eyes, her swollen eye now open slightly. "Toby, you've been doing everything for me since I've been here."
"And I'm going to keep doing everything for you when you get home," Toby stated authoritatively. "You heard the doctors. You're on bed rest, baby."
Spencer groaned. "Come on! Let me go bungee jumping or skydiving or something."
"This hospital is really starting to get to you," Toby laughed, making his way over to her.
"It's been getting to me for the past eighteen days," She replied dryly, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Toby leaned down to kiss her nose softly. "Well, unfortunately, you're still going to be pretty sedentary for a bit."
Spencer sighed dramatically before looking back up at him. "Are you going to go back to work at the station or are you going to stay home and play with Spencer?"
Toby laughed before planting a kiss on her bruised cheek. "I'm going to stay and make sure Spencer gets her rest," He informed, teasing her pointedly. "Besides I'm still on official leave right now."
Spencer nodded, raising one of her eyebrows at him. "Right," She mocked. "Your 'Family' Emergency."
Toby shook his head at her, "You are my family."
She beamed up at him, a real smile spreading across her face before she cringed. "We need to stop at the store and pick up stronger painkillers. It aches to smile."
Toby nodded, pecking her cheeks with his lips a couple of times. "I'll tell your dad, okay? But I think you're going to go straight home and to bed."
"Do I get a real shower?" She asked exasperated.
"Can you stand up for longer than two minutes?" He asked rhetorically, running a hand through her hair before shaking his head again. "You're going to have to get used to me and the bathtub for a while."
Spencer got a glint in her eye. "Well, what if my wonderful boyfriend joined me in the shower?" She suggested, leaning closer, pressing her lips to his sweetly.
Toby smiled against her mouth. "It's going to be a while before you're going to be up for that, Spencer," He murmured. "I mean, I don't know," He said when she kissed him again. "We could run it by your doctor and your parents-"
"Toby!"
He laughed at her expression. "Calm down, Spence. I'm not ready to have that conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Hastings."
She giggled quietly, toying with the buttons on his shirt. "Can I do anything but sleep?"
"Well," Toby started, his voice soft. "We can do anything you want, just nothing too strenuous. We can play scrabble, watch movies-"
"Watch Freaky Foodies?" She asked, knowing his open dislike for her disgusting reality show.
He made a sour expression. "If that's what you want, that's what we'll do," He promised after a minute, like he was choking on something sour.
Spencer giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Will you rub my back when we get home?" She asked sweetly.
"Of course, baby," He promised, kissing her forehead.
"And my legs?" She added.
"That was a given."
"You know me too well," She smirked, leaning her forehead against his. "But, really? When are you going back to work?"
Toby hesitated. He hadn't shared his doubts about his career choice with Spencer. "When I can bear to be separated from you," He covered, hoping to distract her.
It worked well enough and she allowed him to envelope her in his strong arms, lifting her off the bed and holding her around his front. "I love you," She whispered against his face.
"I love you too," He replied just as soft, pressing his lips to a bruise along her jawline. "And I'm so sorry I let this-"
"Oh my God! Toby!" Spencer groaned, burying her face into his shoulder. "Come on. This didn't happen because of you and there's nothing you could have done. Stop blaming yourself."
His self-loathing had been their constant companion in the hospital and Spencer had heard enough.
Toby kissed another bruise and squeezed her tighter. "I'll try."
But it wouldn't be that easy.
"Hello," The receptionist nodded at Toby as he entered the precinct. "I thought you were out on family leave, Officer Cavanaugh?" She asked, looking at the paperwork to her side.
"I am," Toby corrected her before she could scribble anything down onto the papers. "I'm just here for my girlfriend, Spencer Hastings, to give her statement."
The receptionist looked surprised. "She's the assault victim from last week?"
Two feet back, Toby could almost feel Spencer flinch at the word victim. Sighing before turning back to the woman behind the desk, he nodded, "Yes."
The woman pushed up her glasses and searched through the large stack of papers at her side before picking one out from the middle. "Spencer Elizabeth Hastings. Seventeen. Five foot, seven inches. One hundred and ten pounds. Assault took place in her home. Severe battery but mostly surface injuries sustained. Chipped teeth, one broken rib, one cracked, sprained wrist, level one concussion, ten stitches overall, extensive bruising, hospitalized 18 days." The woman read off the sheet.
Toby tapped his foot impatiently at the tactless woman. "Yes, that's her. Can we go to a conference room now?"
The woman pushed more papers through the opening in the window. "She's going to need to fill out the rest of these papers first."
Veronica chose then to make her presence known. "She's a minor so that's still my job," She stated, taking the papers out of the woman's hand and grabbing a pen. "You two, go into a conference room," She directed the two teens. "Go. Me and your father will be out here when you're done."
"Okay," Spencer said quietly.
She'd been quiet all morning. It'd been over a week since she was discharged from the hospital and she'd been impatient with everything but this. Keeping her in bed had been a challenge but Toby had somehow managed it, providing her with everything she asked for, from Game of Thrones episodes on her laptop, to lasagna from Bucalli's, to hot water bottles and late night back rubs, to scrabble matches and snuggling, to kissing her bruises and stroking her hair, he'd done anything she asked, except let her move from her bed.
She'd complained about getting bedsores and how there was once a case of a woman who laid down for so long her legs never worked again, but when her mom told them that they were scheduled to come in today for a statement, Spencer suddenly wanted to sleep late and cuddle longer.
He hadn't been able to get her to talk about what prompted her hesitance but he could gather she didn't like the Rosewood PD, even if he was now one of them. And, for a fact, Spencer hated talking about things that made her out to be the victim. She despised it.
And Toby knew deep down, she was still shaken up. -A had broken into her house and beat the daylight out of her. They knew when she was alone, they waited and then pounced. She was the leader, the strong one, the smart one; she did not know how to handle the fact that someone had incapacitated her independence. She needed time to stop and heal and allow other to take care of her and take a back seat.
And Spencer never stopped and took the back seat, ever. She was stubborn as hell. No one simmer down the fire that burned inside of her.
But this person had tried and had done a damn good job. And Toby knew that it was killing Spencer deep down.
"Hello," Tanner greeted pleasantly, as the young couple entered the conference room. Toby kept his hand on the small of Spencer's back, guiding her forward as her sunglasses made it even harder to see.
He'd told her not to be ridiculous and leave the sunglasses at home. He insisted that she had nothing to hide, that her face wasn't something to cover up but she'd countered him instantly, claiming it wasn't that she was ashamed, but she didn't want to deal with people staring.
And, as much as he wanted to deny it, the injuries on her face was more than a little noticeable. Her right eye was just a sore red color now but her left battered eye, that had remained swollen shut for the majority of her hospital stay, was still more black than blue and refused to open completely. She wasn't due to get the stitches out of her lip for another two days and six days until they removed the stitches from her cheek. She still was covered in bruises on her cheeks and her jawline, though they'd faded to a different shade of blue, a light purple, some a tan or a brown and a few now just faint yellows. The scratches she'd attained in the attack were still visible but not obvious unless you looked for them. She was healing but she wasn't healed.
So when she insisted on wearing the hugest pair of sunglasses she could find in her mom's jewelry drawer, he didn't comment. He understood she needed to do what she needed to do.
But he also knew that the reason behind this statement was more to gauge Spencer's mental state and her progress. She was technically still a minor and her parents already gave a detailed description of the attack, as told by her. If they just wanted more details, they would have come to her in the hospital for her statement.
Hell, they should have come seen her in the hospital. They had the incident report, they should have proactively come to get her version of events.
What kind of police department has a seventeen year old girl get beaten up and waits for almost a month before scheduling time to take her statement.
It wasn't though that the police department didn't care about teen girls getting hurt. It was that this police department didn't care about Spencer or her friends getting hurt. They were, for all intents and purposes, suspicious people the PD couldn't quite get a grasp on, and unfortunately it only served Spencer badly in this case.
They probably had some twisted theory that Alison and Spencer and the other girls all set this up together, planned the attack, decided to do this to get the cops off their back and to make themselves into victims to garner public sympathy.
If only these cops knew Spencer. If only they knew her resistance to ever being weak or needy or vulnerable. If only they knew her least favorite word was victim and how, unless she was in critical pain, she hated ever having to be taken care of. If they really knew her, they'd understand how far off the mark they really were.
In order for this statement to being taken seriously and not filed away as a case they didn't see as worth their efforts, Spencer would need to really be honest about her pain. They'd need to really feel the injustice done to her. She'd need to really play up on being the victim.
And that wasn't Spencer.
Once seated, Detective Tanner turned on the tape recorder before beginning the questions. "Can you state your name for the record, honey?"
At least she was attempting to be nice to Spencer, Toby thought. In all honestly, Detective Tanner was probably his favorite cop in Rosewood.
"Spencer Hastings," Spencer said, clear as a bell.
"And when did this attack occur?"
"April 7th," Spencer recited.
Tanner nodded, looking down at her files. "Where were you at the time of attack?"
"In my living room," Spencer stated blankly, her expression neutral and almost slightly bored.
But Toby could feel her knees shaking and knew she was more nervous than she was leading on.
Just like he knew what had happened had traumatized her more than she led on.
"Was anyone else home?" Tanner asked, her expression still the same.
"No, it was just me," Spencer confirmed.
Her answer wasn't meant to feel like a stab to Toby but it did. Because it was like she was confirming he'd acted selfishly and she'd ended up hurt.
It couldn't be coincidence that -A chose to attack when they were on the rocks.
Tanner nodded and began to ask more questions about the attack. Did she remember anything new, could she identify if it were a man or woman, did she get a grasp on age, did she see a face, a hair color, a skin tone? How long did the attack last, who found her, how long was she alone, what was the attacker wearing?
Every question got a repetitive version of I don't know. Because she didn't know and Toby could literally feel how frustrated she was.
But it wasn't until Tanner began her next line of questioning that Toby realized exactly what was going on. The Rosewood PD was testing Spencer to see if she behaved enough like a victim.
Did they think she'd really get beaten this badly for a cover? How could it even be a question?
"Rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10 while you were hospitalized," Tanner directed, scribbling something down on her clipboard.
Toby fully planned on snooping through those notes when he returned to work.
If he returned to work.
He was still up in the air about if he'd made the right or wrong decision about becoming a cop.
Funny how him and Spencer's big argument was over him acting like a police officer over acting like a boyfriend and now he didn't even remember how to be a cop. He was far too concerned in protecting Spencer's wellbeing now, that fighting for the law seemed completely pointless. Whatever line he needed to cross to keep her safe was necessary to cross.
"Uh," Spencer hesitated for the first time and Tanner didn't fail to notice. "Probably, like a five. They stuffed me with pain meds."
That was a little white lie. Toby recalled Spencer complaining that her pain medication was nowhere near high enough.
This was the exact kind of lie that would make the cops unable to see Spencer as a victim. She was refusing to allow herself to feel the way she should feel. Hurt, scared, vulnerable. She was rejecting any notion that led to her being the victim.
"And when you returned home?" Tanner questioned.
Spencer hesitated again. "Six."
That was a blatant lie. For three nights straight she cried her eyes out because of the pain in her stomach and head, sobbing that she felt like death. Toby sat with her the entire night and rocked her back and forth but it was no avail. Veronica wanted to take her back to the E.R. Peter doubled her pain medication. Spencer had either ice or a hot compression on both her stomach and face constantly to lessen her pain. She was giving this statement on heavy painkillers.
But she couldn't find it in herself to open her mouth and say how badly she'd suffered. She'd stated to him once in the hospital that dwelling in her suffering wasn't important, moving on from the attack was.
But Toby still thought she was ashamed.
"So, you're saying it doesn't hurt that bad? Six is a pretty low number," Tanner commented. Spencer opened her mouth to bite her lip out of nerves before she stopped herself, remembering her stitches. "When are you scheduled to get your teeth fixed?" The older cop inquired, staring at her chipped teeth.
Toby knew Spencer was far from vain but the question clearly humiliated her. "Uh, they said I had to wait until the rest of my face healed," Spencer stated in a voice small enough that the tape recorder probably didn't catch it.
Toby took back thinking Tanner was his favorite officer.
Toby placed a hand on Spencer's arm. "You'll always be the most beautiful girl to me," He whispered in her ear.
"Mr. Cavanaugh," Detective Tanner admonished. "I'm going to ask you either remain silent or wait in the hall."
Toby said nothing but he, for a second, considered throwing the tape recorder into the wall and whisking Spencer out of the room.
"And, did you get right back into your everyday activities?" Tanner asked Spencer now, raising an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you resume your normal schedule upon returning home?" The older woman clarified.
"Uh, no. Not exactly. . ." Spencer trailed off, looking at Toby. He tried to smile reassuringly at her, give her courage to keep going. "My doctors told me to stay on bed rest and take it easy."
"And, why was that?" Tanner questioned.
Why did she think? Spencer in extensive pain.
"Because I was assaulted?" Spencer phrased as a question, clearly confused.
But Toby understood. Tanner was trying to see if Spencer would crack under pressure if she muddled the story.
He fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"What activities have you been engaging in at home, Ms. Hastings?" Tanner asked, folding her hands on top of the table.
"I've been on bed rest," Spencer repeated again. "I've been lying around-"
"Why though? If it doesn't hurt that bad?"
"Why are you questioning her like she could have lied about this?" Toby snapped before Spencer could answer. "She has bruises and cuts and a concussion! Why are you acting like she's a criminal?"
"I'm just trying to get the full picture of what she's been going through, Mr. Cavanaugh," Detective Tanner defended. "If you can't control yourself, you need to wait in the hall."
Toby rolled his eyes, hard, a habit he never would have done before Spencer, but he realized he was probably making this worse. He resigned himself to shutting up and letting this interview play out.
"Now, Spencer, have you had any trouble sleeping?" Tanner asked, picking up her clipboard again.
Spencer shrugged before wincing slightly and verbalizing. "A little," She said, still hesitant, eying Toby slightly.
Toby kept his mouth shut but he so badly wanted to say that it took days for her to sleep peacefully and how she needed him to rub her stomach through the night and how she couldn't sleep on one side because of her ribs and how her head pounded and brought her to tears several times. But he kept his mouth shut because that's what he knew Spencer wanted.
"Have you had any trouble eating?"
"Well," Spencer looked at Toby again. "My mouth has stitches in it and my wrist is sprained pretty badly so eating was sort of a challenge but it's pretty much fine now."
No, it was still a challenge. Just last night she had to stop eating half way through her dinner because her jaw was too tired and she could only use one arm. When he tried to feed her, she vigorously refused.
"What about talking?"
"It's been alright. Sometimes it's hard to understand me but only some people point it out."
Hanna. Hanna is the only one that pointed out that Spencer was talking like a demented cartoon. Surprisingly, it made Spencer laugh.
"What about personal hygiene?" Tanner questioned again. "Is it difficult to bathe or dress or brush your hair or your teeth?"
"Yeah," Spencer confirmed after a few seconds. "I mean, brushing my teeth has been kind of strange because the attacker chipped two teeth. Getting dressed isn't hard though."
No, because she usually wore one of his shirt and her underwear. It's not like she could put a lot of pressure on her body. The bruising on her stomach and damage to her ribs were so bad that she couldn't even stand up for ten minutes straight until three days ago. Today was the first time she put actual pants on since the attack and they were her mom's too big yoga pants from the very back of her closet.
But then something inside Spencer changed. "And Toby usually helps me bathe so I'm not doing any work there."
Toby's head spun towards her. That was probably the most honest answer she'd given the entire interview.
Tanner laughed quietly, corking her eyebrows. "So, I guess that brings me to my next question. Has this affected your intimacy level?"
Toby looked at his superior officer. "Intimacy level?" He asked, not following her.
Spencer apparently found her confidence though. "She wants to know if my getting beaten within an inch of my life has affected the amount of time we bone, Tobes," Spencer patted his leg. "I mean, I couldn't even walk until a couple days ago because I had such severe bruising all over that I couldn't hold up my own body. I've been confined to my bedroom because the doctors ordered me to basically sleep for a few weeks. I'm struggling so badly to do everyday activities. I've had a non-stop killer headache, I can't speak properly and my eye will not open. Officer Tanner, do you think sex is what is on my mind right now?"
Toby couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He never thought he'd see the day her sass brought him such great joy.
"You know what," Spencer resolved, placing her hands on her pants. "I want to go. I'm done answering these questions. You can decide to help find who did this or not. It's not like you've really done me a lot of good in the past."
Tanner nodded, like this didn't come as a surprise to her. "Alright then, we'll be in touch."
"No, you probably won't be," Spencer mumbled under her breath.
The entire way home Spencer remained silent again, fiddling with the buttons on her shirt, absentmindedly.
Toby reached out and took her hand, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. "Are you alright?" He asked.
Spencer nodded but it didn't convince him.
When they arrived back at the Hastings' Manor, she insisted on walking until they reached the staircase, saying she needed to get used to using her legs again. Toby gave her a look. "The doctors all said you needed to rest as much as possible."
"What do you call you carrying me everywhere?" She asked as he set her on the bed.
"Me, doing my job," He smirked.
She chuckled. "Do your job and hand me your white V neck," She ordered, unbuttoning the shirt she wore to the station.
As she pulled on his old t-shirt and discarded the clothes she'd worn that day, he climbed onto the other side of her bed. "How do you feel?" He asked, gently, opening his arms for her to crawl into. She burrowed her head into the crook of his neck, wincing slightly when she twisted wrong on her taped ribs. He rubbed her back in soothing circles, planting a kiss on her hairline. "I guess that answers that," He murmured.
Spencer shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I hurt but I don't want to seem like I'm using my pain as an excuse to be lazy-"
Before she was done, he was objecting. "Spencer, nobody thinks that," He protested. "No, baby, no. You've been hurt, let yourself be lazy in order to heal."
Spencer sighed deeply. "Not this again-"
"It doesn't make you a victim to give yourself a rest, Spence," He breathed into her hair. "Even your parents have ordered you to stay in bed. Your mom got mad when you tried walking down the stairs last week," He reminded her. "No one wants you to strain yourself when you need to be recuperating."
"Okay," She said quietly.
Toby slid his hand up the back of her shirt. "Why have you been so quiet since we left the PD?" He asked, running his hands up and down her spine.
Spencer didn't answer right away. Finally, she whispered, "Because I realized pretty soon you're going to go back to work with those people who don't believe I was attacked, even though I've been rendered incapable of doing anything and I look like I went ten rounds with a heavy weight."
Toby shut his eyes, leaning his head against her's delicately. "Spencer," He finally said. "I'm sorry."
It was probably the most common phrase he'd said to her since this nightmare started but she still didn't grasp what he was saying. "Why?"
"For giving you the impression that I'd pick anything over you."
"Toby-"
"No, seriously, hear me out," He pushed her hair back and planted another kiss on her forehead. "I know why you did what you did when you destroyed the knife. I get it. -A has made your life a complete nightmare. This recent attack just reinforces that. I get why you don't trust the cops and why you feel the need to take things into your own hands. But when I started working at the Rosewood Police, I thought I could finally end this for you, once and for all. And it blindsided me. I thought you were messing things up that would only help the case against Ali and I felt like you were being paranoid," He breathed in her smell before continuing. "I forgot how dangerous -A can be and I'm sorry I didn't trust your instincts. I tried too hard to protect you and to be your hero that I ended up leaving your vulnerable to the enemy."
Spencer smiled amiably against his skin. "But you are my hero," She whispered.
He grinned in spite of his overwhelming guilt. "I just want you to know one thing, alright? I meant it when I said you can tell me anything. I meant it when I said you're never alone. You can always come to me. Always."
"Even though you're a cop and. . . ." Spencer trailed off, trying to phrase something right. "And my moral compass doesn't exactly point to north."
"Actually," Toby corrected slowly. "I don't think I'm going to be a cop anymore."
Spencer shoved back against his chest roughly, shocked invading her features. "What?"
"It's not worth it. Not if it drives a wedge between me and you," He pushed some of her hair behind her ear. "Nothing is worth that."
"But I don't want you to give up your job for me," Spencer whispered after a second, guilt overtaking her bruised features now.
"Spence, I only got the job for you," Toby reminded her. "So what, I go back to being a carpenter or I find myself a new job."
Spencer's face still didn't relax. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
"I'll tell you what I want," Toby answered, a smile in his voice. "I want to lie here with my beautiful girlfriend while she rests and I want to hold her in my arms. Can I do that?"
Her face softened. "Yes, you can," She nodded, snuggling herself around him so tight, it felt like she was permanently attached. "Love you."
"I love you more," He whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead again, wrapping her up in his arms. "I love you more and I'll always do whatever it takes to protect you."
