Did I really just get 18 reviews for one chapter? I was going to wait until this weekend to post this, but you all just blew my mind. Have an early chapter!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE stick with me. I promise I have a purpose for everything I do, and remember this is based on the PLL world, okay? Just remember all of this and stick with me. I promise you'll enjoy it!

I don't really know what else to say? Just review with your thoughts and theories because those are my favorite reviews in the whole world! And how lucky are you guys, really? I just updated all three of my stories in one day. Chalk it up to being bored and cooped up because I'm not about to go out in the cold. hashtag Chicago sucks.

Chapter 2

TPOV

The 2x4's they were using to build the Smiths' shed were rough. He could practically feel the thick grain of the wood through his work gloves. The blustering wind blew through his hair, standing it up on its ends. He laughed and tried to smooth it down. He didn't really feel up to looking like Harry Potter today.

But it was alright. He wouldn't be doing this for much longer. Now that his leg was healed he could finally finish his qualifications for entrance into the Rosewood police force. He could finally find a way to end all of this for Spencer and her friends.

A deep seeded worry for his girlfriend settled in his chest. His throat tightened as a wave of emotion crashed over him. She was so tired... she wasn't taking care of himself. There was nothing more he wanted than to take her into his arms and never

"Cavanaugh!"

He turned and gave his boss a questioning look. Usually he didn't bellow from across the work yard. "What up, Sweeny?"

The man had a funny look on his face. "You have a phone call in the trailer. I was told that it was an emergency."

If it was his stepmother asking him to pick them up a loaf of bread again he was going to lose the little sanity that he had left. Somehow, like with everything else in the entire world, they managed to make him feel guilty about the loss of their house. Granted, it was kind of his fault. His involvement with Spencer was nothing that he would ever come close to regretting or apologizing for, but it was what had brought the destructive -A team into their lives. So if they wanted bread he would bring them bread.

He closed his eyes and collected himself before answering the phone. It didn't want to come across as frustrated as he really was. "Hello?"

"Toby? Hey, it's Emily."

And now he was worried. Frustration was an emotion he didn't even remember feeling. Because Emily wouldn't be calling him for nothing. Was this a real emergency? "What's wrong? Are you okay? Is Spencer?"

He could practically hear the frown in her response. "Yeah, listen that's why I'm calling you. She never showed up to school, and we're getting worried."

"She what?" It felt like his heart legitimately skipped a beat. They were heading to school when he left her. What could have possibly happened in the short time she was at the Brew without him. "I'm leaving now. I'll head to her house and check on her."

"Will you get in trouble? Maybe I can duck out, if it's too hard for you to leave."

"Em, I would honestly tunnel from here to China if I needed to. I'll head over there now and call you back when I find out what's going on." His voice shook only at the end. A bad feeling was settling in the bottom of his stomach. Something was wrong.

"Thanks, Toby."

He hung up and the door slamming shut behind him reminded him that he should probably tell his boss where he was headed. But he didn't really care. To anyone who didn't have all the information this would hardly come off as an emergency. But his stomach twisted in fear as he climbed into his truck and took off down the road. He pressed his foot heavily on the gas peddle. If the Rosewood police weren't so inept he might worry about a ticket, but as it were they were probably enjoying a donut while they shared tips on harassing their town's population of teenage girls.

He pulled up to the curb in front of his girlfriend's house with a pronounced squeal of his tires. The gate was shut, but when no one granted him entrance he agilely climbed over it. It was easier to ask the Hastings for forgiveness later than continue in his nearly debilitating worry.

But as soon as he was over the wall the worry turned into all out dread. Her back door was open. And as he sprinted to it he could see that it wasn't just open, but the broken pane of glass above the door knob indicated a break in. He slid inside, his phone already in his hand, but as he looked around it slid from his numb fingers. Blood. There was blood everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, on the broken coffee table, everywhere.

"Spencer!" His voice was a perfect mixture of anger and fear. This- it couldn't be hers. It couldn't. Because if it was hers... he shook off the thought and took the stairs two at a time, his eyes filling with tears at the smears of blood on the walls, the small puddles on the floor. There was so much blood. And he had never wished harm on anyone else before, but he prayed to whatever God was listening that it belonged to any other single person on the planet besides Spencer.

Because what would he be without her? Who would he be without her? He thought back to the sad, lonely boy that he was before Spencer found him. He was nothing. He was living his life under the oppressive thumb of his maniac step sister. He was living without any hope... without any love. But Spencer came and pulled the rug out from under his ass, changing all of that. He owed her everything in the world. This couldn't be her blood.

He dropped to his knees as he entered her room. His breath left his body like he was sucker punched in the gut. No. No. He crawled across the ground with his heart in his throat. He leaned against her bed and pulled his phone out, first dialing 911, explaining the issue in a shaky, breathless voice. He didn't even remember what he said. He didn't even remember picking up his phone. He just remembered saying that someone needed to get there now.

Everything felt numb. His head was spinning, and his hands were shaking so hard that he could barely hold the phone to his ear as he waited for Emily to answer. He wasn't in her room anymore, and he didn't know how he left. He didn't remember leaving. Spencer was so small. There was no way she had this much blood in her body. There was no way she had this much blood to spare in her body. He had to find her.

He walked frantically from room to room searching for her. He didn't know whether he wanted to find her or not. If he found her body... if he found her there was no recovering from that. Because she was his entire world. They didn't talk about emotions often, but they just knew. They just knew. She knew what she meant to him. She knew that she literally saved his life again and again. Because what he was doing before she came into his life wasn't living. His world was dark, but she was a beacon of light that lit the surrounding world. Without her his world would once again be submerged into darkness, but worse because his eyes would still be blinded from the light of her presence. He would never forget her. His eyes would never adjust to the darkness again.

"Hello?"

He nearly dropped the phone at the sound of Emily's voice, having forgotten that he had called her. "Em." It wasn't until he said her name that he realized that he was crying. And not just a single tear, he was full on sobbing. "Em, I-"

"Give me five minutes to get the girls together and we'll be right there."

"I-" But he couldn't talk. He couldn't breath. Did he even want to breath? Maybe it would be a relief to let go. He could to wherever Spencer was. But no. No. No, he wouldn't think like that. He couldn't think like that. Wouldn't he feel it? Wouldn't he know if she was gone? Because it didn't feel like that. But there was just so much blood. There was too much blood.

"Toby, whatever it is we'll figure it out."

He shook his head and dropped the phone. He wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. His stomach hurt with the force of his sobs. But he couldn't do that. He had to remain diligent in his focus, because if there was even a chance that he could find her alive he would do it. He would take it. He stumbled through the house, looking behind furniture and in closets, leaving no corner unsearched. If she was in here he'd find her.

He heard the cops arrive, but he didn't stop looking until two large hands enclosed around his shoulders. "Mr. Cavanaugh?"

He wanted to shrug him off. He wanted to keep looking, but he knew it was in Spencer's best interest that the police get involved, despite his less than favorable opinion of the Rosewood PD. They could do more than he could; they had access to more than he did. They could find her.

Emily, Aria, and Hanna arrived first, and their reactions were something that he wished he could erase from his memory. He felt numb, but the animalistic cries from Hanna told him that they weren't quite that lucky. Hanna and Aria clutched each other kind of near him, but Emily's hands were on his arm. She tried to get his attention, but he couldn't talk to her even if he wanted too. It was like his lungs deflated... like his mind was flipped to the off position. He just shut down. He had reacted like this before, but it had been awhile... since Jenna.

Spencer's parents got there next. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. He had no concept of time. Mrs. Hastings' tears rivaled Hanna's, and her dad had a neutral expression, but he could see the pain underneath. He remembered the heartbreaking moment Spencer had told him that she felt like no one really cared about her but him, but if only she could see this now. If only her friends and family could have shown her this level of care and compassion when she was with them.

Detective Holbrook sauntered their way with Officer Barry trailing shortly behind him. The tears in Officer Barry's eyes told him all that he needed to know, but that he was terrified to hear. He couldn't hear it because it would make it real, and if it was real his life was over. Everything was over because there was nothing left for him. Nothing mattered.

The detective cleared his throat before speaking. "This is never easy to say, but we've tested several samples of the blood in the house and have determined it to be Miss Hastings'."

Even that was enough. What had -A put her through? What had that monster done to her to cause that level of damage? The thought made him sick to his stomach. He should have been there. He thought of her small hands clinging to his shirt just an hour earlier. He thought of the forced bravery in her eyes when she smiled and told him to go. He thought of her soft lips moving with his every time they physically showed their love for each other. He shouldn't have left her. He never should have let her go feeling as emotional as she did. She was sleuthing. She was working on something, and she clearly made some kind of discovery or else A wouldn't have done what they did. It was the same reason Mona was killed.

He let out a cry of frustration. He shouldn't have let her keep going, and at the very least he shouldn't have left her side. They knew why Mona was killed, why the hell had he let Spencer venture down the same road on her own. Was this his fault?

Detective Holbrook gave him a sympathetic look before continuing. "We've been unable to recover a body, and without immediate medical attention there is no way that Ms. Hastings could have survived this dramatic level of blood loss. We're very sorry, but this has official been ruled a homicide investigation."

The world melted away at those words. They can't be right. They just can't. A rushing noise filled his ears as he bent over and cried into his arms. His chest ached. It felt like it was on fire and covered in ice at the same time. Everything hurt. His throat, his heart, his eyes... everything. The numbness was gone, and in its place was an all consuming pain. He wanted to go home, but where was home? It wasn't a place, but a feeling. Where you felt safe. Where you knew that nothing could hurt you. Spencer was home, and if the police were right he could never go home again.