3. Savior
Toby
I sprinted through the trees of the black woods, my feet crunching over the decaying leaves as I drew closer to Andrew Campbell. It was too dark to see clearly, but the sound of heavy grunting cut through the air and I hurried my pursuit.
While my partner and I, Lorenzo Calderon, tracked Andrew to the far north of Tyler Park, the other two cops traveled to the west to ambush him if Lorenzo and I lost him. We'd been tracking Andrew all over Tyler State Park for an hour and had been chasing him ever since we found the prison van that he'd used to kidnap the girls at his uncle's farm, the old Campbell Apple Farm.
Along with journals and books in the back of the van, the cops and I also discovered a pocket knife, tracking devices leading straight to the Dollhouse, some black leather gloves, and a few heavy jackets proving him to be the girls' abductor, which we all collected as evidence. What was even more disturbing was one of the entries in Andrew's journal declaring how much he hated Mona, and how Alison and the rest of girls represented the Feminization of Society.
I clenched my jaw, thinking of that last entry about Spencer, how she was a smug overachiever who would do whatever it took to get what she wanted. We knew now why Andrew wanted to hurt the girls, and that's what terrified me.
Footsteps trampled over the forest ground ahead of me, and I ducked through a wall of thick and twisting fir trees. We were getting close. I knew every inch of the spare forest and its many trails in Rosewood's woods, as I used to take those same shortcuts when I used to run off, although going straight through was faster. I never really had a home until I found Spencer.
I listened for Andrew's movements as I moved deeper into the woods, with Lorenzo on my heels. Finally, we came to a clearing and I saw his dark shape racing towards the other side. I ran in the direction, then lunged at him from the back. I felt Andrew's back whiplash under the impact when I slammed into him, tackling him to the ground.
Then we were both falling, rolling over into an endless pit of darkness, and we tumbled downhill. The green, draping ferns sticking out from the sides of the incline scraped my arms through my dark-navy police uniform as Andrew and I hit the bottom, crashing against the uneven dirt ground.
I landed on top of Andrew, pinning him down before he could rise, his hands struggling against mine. In that instant, pure fury surged through me as images flashed through my head: Spencer's smiling face, of him striking a crushing blow to her gut followed by her tortured scream.
I pushed myself off Andrew quickly and grabbed hold of his arm furiously, dragging him up onto his feet.
"Jeez, Toby," Andrew pleaded. "Listen to me."
I wasn't interested in listening to anything he had to say; I was beyond that now. The sight of Andrew's feigned innocent face heightened my anger, focusing in one bright spot like a beacon. I wanted to tear him apart. Andrew had hurt her, my Spencer. She could have died.
Unable to control my bubbling rage, I brought down my full strength onto Andrew, grunting as I drove my fist hard into his stomach. He let out a painful cry from the blow. But I didn't stop there. I hit him again and again, unleashing my fury at the anxiety and dread I'd felt all those weeks Spencer was kidnapped.
Before I could swing at him again, a flashlight beam fell over my face, blinding me. Lorenzo stood over the slope, moving the bob of light over Andrew and I. He looked more like an Abercrombie model than an officer of the law with high cheekbones and light brown-colored skin, had cropped black hair, and was one of the younger officers on the Rosewood police force who had been assigned to as my new partner.
"Give me five minutes," I called up to him. I seized Andrew's arm tighter when he fought against my grasp. "Walk away!"
I yanked Andrew back towards me, getting ready for him.
"Not gonna happen," Lorenzo said, a serious expression on his face. He moved down the hill, drawing closer to us. "Do your job."
I clenched my jaw, my mouth in a tight line. The logical part of my brain clicked then, bringing me back to my senses. After I'd gotten Spencer back, I'd stopped playing by the rules of the law. Except I couldn't afford to do that now. As much as I wanted to tear Andrew limb from limb, I had to keep Spencer safe and I couldn't do that with her captor on the loose.
Then I tugged at Andrew and bent his arms behind his back, forcing him forward. "You have the right to remain silent," I told him. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
I reached behind my back to pull out a pair of handcuffs from my police belt, slapping them onto his wrists. I heard the clicking of metal as I locked them into place.
It took us forty-five minutes to drive back to the police station. When Lorenzo and I pulled into the lot, we got out, towing Andrew through the police station entrance. There were about a dozen squad cars in the parking lot and inside other deputies turned to get a good look at Andrew, their eyes bugging out. The little black leather chairs in the waiting area were empty except for a few car theft felons.
As Lorenzo and I started for the jail cells, a strawberry-blonde, blue-eyed police officer from the FBI team appeared from around the corner in a burgundy tweed suit, a cell phone pressed to her ear. "What the hell is going on over there? I need an ADP stat."
When she saw the two of us with Andrew in handcuffs, she snapped her phone shut. "Take him to the holding cell."
We led Andrew toward the back of the building, stopping at a dimly lit, dank hallway where a long line of rooms were each separated by teal-green walls. The only thing visible inside were the frosted glass windows in the doors.
Lorenzo unlocked Andrew's handcuffs and put him inside the cell, shutting the door behind him. After Andrew was locked safely away, we met with the cop, who identified herself as Agent Cruz, and she told us everything she knew. That Andrew Campbell was a suspect in the girls' kidnapping, how the FBI had tracked down a paper trail connecting him to the missile silo where Spencer, Aria, Hanna and Emily were held captive and the construction work that had done at the Dollhouse.
Lorenzo and I were helping the FBI build the entire case against Andrew because he was now a threat against five teenage girls, and now the IRS was interested to find out how a high school boy could afford all the tools and construction for a torture house, but mostly I was trying to protect Spencer from harm. I knew what Andrew was capable of; A was an expert at staying hidden in the shadows and manipulating people into keeping secrets from the people they loved.
I glanced at my gold pocket watch, the one Spencer had given me after I'd graduated from the Harrisburg Police Academy. It was just past midnight. I had to get back to Spencer; I didn't want her to wake up alone in the hospital.
As I started to flip the top closed, the shiny gold of the watch glinted, reflecting the engravement inside: You're my once upon a time. Staring at those words filled my heart, as if it could burst from love. Spencer wanted me the way I wanted her–forever and always. The only fear I had was that I wouldn't be good enough for her, to be able to provide for her the way a man should, that I might hold her back from all that she could be. But knowing she loved me as much as I loved her made my soul complete.
Spencer was my happy ending. Forever.
Spencer
When I opened my eyes, I was blinded by harsh bright, white lights. I was in an unfamiliar white room, propped up on a hard bed with rails separated by a pastel-colored curtain. The window on the other side of the room was covered in long vertical blinds, but I could see the midnight blue night sky peeking out. Pillows resting against my head and back were flat and lumpy. I heard beeping coming from somewhere to my right, and the steady hiss of a machine.
My hand was connected to an IV tube, and something was taped across my index finger, keeping it in place. I realized I was in the Rosewood Hospital.
"You're awake," a voice said in relief.
A blurry figure swam over me. The guy had high cheekbones, deep blue eyes, and brown hair that fell in a mess around his beautiful face.
"Toby?" When I lifted my eyes to meet his, I felt an unexpected swirl of dizziness. He was sitting in the chair close to the bed, holding my tube-free hand. He'd changed out of his police uniform and now wore a charcoal gray T-shirt and dark blue jeans.
Toby rubbed his thumb across my skin. It was a comforting, gentle caress. "Shhh, it's okay," he said softly.
My skin seared with heat from where he touched me, making my body buzz. My blood only ran hotter when he moved to sit closer to me on the bed. The desire to touch him rolled through my limbs.
"How long have I been asleep?" I asked quietly, and my throat burned from the effort. I was so lost in my soreness and lack of sleep that it was hard to speak.
"A few hours. The nurses gave you some saline fluid to hydrate you." His eyes turned gentle, pjnched with concern. "I was so worried about you."
I looked at the various contraptions that were hooked into different parts of my body. In addition to the IV drip hanging above, there was a pulse oximeter that measured my blood oxygen level and a monitor that kept track of my heart rate. My chest rose with panic when I saw the second monitor next to the bed, where the wire that was connected to my hand caused it to beep. It was monitoring the baby's heart rate.
I moved my hand down to my stomach under the sheet, staring at the small bump that had grown slightly since a few weeks ago. I didn't know if the baby's heart was still beating, and the thought terrified me. It tore at my insides just thinking about it.
I had some difficult choices to make about this pregnancy, ones I didn't want to make. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was keeping it. I wanted to tell Toby, but now didn't seem like the right time, not when I had just been admitted to the hospital from A's Dollhouse. But I knew I couldn't do this without him. I was so scared of telling him, but most importantly of being in this alone. Making tough decisions had always been the hard part, but once I'd made up my mind, I stuck to it–with the confidence that I'd made the right choice. Making the decision to keep this baby–our baby–hadn't been easy, but one I'd been comfortable with keeping.
I quickly looked away from the monitor, growing more anxious by the minute.
"What happened?" I asked. I couldn't remember everything exactly, and my memories only blurred in a confusing haze when I tried to recall.
Toby gently stroked my wrist, caressing the swollen area. "They ran some blood tests, examined you for bruises and infected wounds, and then checked your heart rate."
"Spencer Hastings?" A tall, white-haired man in a white coat walked around to the foot of my bed. "My name is Dr. Grey. How do you feel?"
"Tired," I said in a weak voice.
He flipped over a page on his clipboard. "Your vitals look good, no sign of any cuts or bruises. Does anything hurt?"
"Not really," I answered.
The doctor's fingers probed lightly along my skull. "Tender?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No."
"Well, everything seems normal. You should be released sometime tomorrow. Will your boyfriend be staying?"
I glanced at Toby, blushing.
"Yes," Toby replied.
"Wonderful," Dr. Grey said. "But we'll have to take you to the exam room for some procedure testing."
They wheeled me away then into the examination room in the OBGYN department to run an ultrasound on my uterus. Thankfully, Toby left the room before the nurses could explain that it was for the baby–the doctor found out I was pregnant after my blood test showed high levels of HCG in my bloodstream and wanted to make sure the baby was alright. I let out a breath of relief after Dr. Grey told me the baby was fine. No tears, no toxic chemicals ingested. Not even internal bleeding.
When I returned, a nurse helped me back into bed and left a kidney dish on the bedside table for me in case I had the urge to vomit from morning sickness.
I glanced nervously at the empty doorway, then leaned back against the bed. The only bright spot in all this was knowing that Toby was just down the hall.
I felt an uneasy chill at the idea that Andrew Campbell had done this to my friends and I–roaming through Pennsylvania freely. He was the president of every club around school and star athlete of the baseball team, and he was just as ambitious as I was. I kept wondering how someone I'd once considered to be a friend and was ranked with on the debate team all throughout high school could torment me this whole time. I felt so stupid for not seeing the signs that Andrew was dangerous.
But there was something else that scared me more–something far more unsettling. For the three weeks I'd been locked away in the Dollhouse, Charles had threatened my unborn baby. I couldn't just forget that.
Just then, three familiar figures in matching hospital gowns appeared at the door. When they saw I was awake, Aria, Hanna, and Emily walked in, assembling on the navy blue fabric chairs by my bed.
"You're awake," Emily said.
Hanna sat down on the edge of my bed. "We tried to see you earlier, but the nurses said you were asleep."
I rested my hands on my stomach, hoping nobody noticed the defined baby bump. "I was with Toby."
Emily's eyes widened. "Did he catch the person that did this?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Where is Mona?" Aria murmured after a moment.
"She's down the hall," Hanna answered. "And that other girl is down there too, Sara Harvey."
"What about Andrew?" Emily wondered.
Aria's eyes cut to Emily's. "What about him?"
Hanna took a breath. "I heard them talking in my ambulance about how they found plans and journals in Andrew's house, at the farm where he left the van."
"Andrew Campbell and Charles DiLaurentis are the same person," Emily said slowly. "That's what we're saying, right?"
"We're not just saying it," Aria said, "it's reality." I heard an edge to her voice.
My stomach began to churn. Ever since I'd arrived at the hospital, deep down I'd had this awful feeling that Andrew finding us hadn't been an accident. But I kept ignoring it, telling myself it was just in my head.
"Reality's been through a lot," I said, "and so have we."
"You guys, it makes perfect sense," Aria said forcefully, her eyes wide and intense as she gazed into our own. "Andrew's always just been there on the edge of things. Always there, helping. Makes me sick just thinking about it."
I stared at her, my throat constricting. I pressed my hand more firmly, but gently against my bump. The seed growing inside of me may have been safe now, but who was to say what Andrew would do to it later on?
"So when do we tell the police about Charles?" Emily asked.
"We don't," I said simply.
Hanna frowned. "We don't?"
"The cops will know if it's true."
Aria's mouth was taut. "It is true, Spencer."
I glanced at her. "They'll know Andrew is Charles when they find him."
Before either of my friends could respond, the door opening interrupted us and Toby stood in the doorway, holding in his hand a glass vase of the most beautiful bouquet of pink orchids I had ever seen. He glanced at Aria, Hanna, and Emily, then set down the flowers on the nightstand.
Emily looked at Toby, then at me. "We'll leave you two alone."
Hanna snapped off the light as she, Aria, and Emily turned to leave. When they left the room, I glanced at the orchids Toby had brought me. "Are those for me?"
He nodded sheepishly. "They were all that was left at the gift shop."
I beamed up at him. "They're beautiful."
Toby was immediately at my side again. He settled in close to me on the bed and pulled me against his chest. I sighed and snuggled into him, while he gently stroked my face and murmured softly into my ear. Our first kiss, when we'd played Scrabble, the first time we'd made love, the day I'd tutored him in French III, when we said 'I love you' for the very first time. As I listened, I realized with happiness that he was doing it to comfort me.
"What were you saying before in the ambulance?" I asked at one point.
"Tu es mon vrai amour," Toby said. I could hear the French accent in his voice as he uttered the familiar language, one that we both shared. "I called you my true love–someone who makes me feel purely the way that you do."
I was silent for a moment, speechless. My eyes moved over his face, trying to decipher whether he truly meant it. Finally, he gazed deep into my eyes.
"I love you," Toby professed.
My heart stuttered, then picked up. It was amazing after all this time how those three little words could still have such an affect on me, the only person whose heart and soul had the ability to touch mine.
I met his gaze. "I love you, too."
Toby stared back at me in awe, as if he couldn't believe I was really here. His perfect full lips parted, curving. I couldn't stop looking at them. Then he leaned in and those lips were moving firmly against mine.
When Toby pulled away, he pressed the underside of his palm to my cheek and I leaned into his touch, sighing softly. I took his hand, kissing it.
But then Toby traced the side of my face. "Sleep, Spencer," he murmured, his breath hot against my cheek. "You're safe now."
I shook my head. "No, I don't want to sleep. You'll be gone when I wake up."
"I'll still be here when you wake up, I promise." He kissed my forehead.
I nestled my head back into his chest, and he tightened his arms around me as I drifted off to sleep. I was more warm and comfortable in Toby's arms than I'd ever felt.
Toby
I was still in Spencer's hospital room when the sun rose behind the clouds from the window outside. I'd been sitting in the chair by her bed for hours while I watched her sleep, where she was dreaming soundly in the small bed. Spencer was curled onto her side with the blankets covered around her shoulders loosely. She was safe now, the way it should be.
As I watched, Spencer shivered in her sleep. It occurred to me that she was probably cold. Silently, I went to her and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
Spencer's lips trembled and then parted. "Okay, mom," she muttered.
The corners of my lips twitched in amusement. Spencer talked in her sleep.
I noted the freckle on her cheek and shivered, staring longingly at her face. I wanted very much to hold Spencer and kiss her lips, but knew better than to wake her. Though right now–with her dark hair spread out across the pillow, her features smoothed out and relaxed, her soft lips parted slightly–she looked so beautiful.
I thought of the first day she came to tutor me, and my disgust towards her for shunning me along with the rest of the town who had accused me of murdering Alison DiLaurentis. But when I saw her face, I couldn't help but find her intriguing. She had chocolate-brown doe eyes set in a pale, petite face, with shapely pink lips and long chestnut brown hair that framed her lovely features. Her narrow chin jutted out stubbornly with her thin cheekbones whenever she looked thoughtful, brimming over with mysterious calculations; the light and dark contrast of her hair and skin made her look even prettier. And then there were her eyes, unusually deep for brown. Spencer was unlike any girl I'd ever met.
A furrow puckered in between Spencer's eyebrows then, startling me out of my thoughts. She sat up gradually and her lips pulled up into a small, hazy smile. "Toby," she said softly and slowly, as if she was still dreaming.
I immediately moved next to her on the bed, rubbing her back. "You look just as amazing as you do when waking up."
Spencer frowned, touching the collar of my fresh police uniform. "You left."
"I had to, but you were already deeply asleep. I promise."
Her lips stuck out in an attractive pout. I was filled with the desire to trace my fingers along those lips, wanting to touch her badly. I'd rather die right now than be separated one inch from her. I just wanted Spencer all to myself.
"I missed you," I added, gleaming at her.
She sighed. "You're impossible."
Then I pulled her into my arms, resting my head against her shoulder. Spencer's fingers touched the back of my neck as she pressed her cheek to mine. With our arms wrapped around each other, we sat there for a while, holding the other closely. I buried my face into her neck, relishing the contact. I never wanted to let her go.
Eventually, we unwillingly pulled out of the embrace. Spencer leaned back against the pillow, resting her hand on my shoulder.
"We got the son-of-a-bitch," I told her. "Andrew." My voice was rough with rage.
"You caught him?" Spencer asked in a weak and tired voice.
I nodded. "We tracked him all over Tyler Park, finally flushed him out."
She sat up straighter. "Are you sure he's the one?"
"We've been chasing him since we found the prison van at his uncle's farm." I furrowed my brow. "They traced all electronic gear to him. They found a journal about how he hated Mona and how he thought Alison and the rest of you represented the 'Feminization of society.' It was a regular manifesto."
"Has he confessed?" Spencer's brown eyes were uncertain as she searched my face.
"Not yet. If he's smart, he will." I softened as I remembered what Spencer had to go through with Mona's trial, and reached out to caress her arm. "This town doesn't need another trial."
"No, it doesn't." She looked away, thinking for a minute, but I saw the pain in them.
We were both silent for a moment. I stared at her, noting the tired look on her face. She had dark shadows under her eyes, as if she hadn't gotten much sleep from the night before. My first priority was keeping Spencer happy and safe. I didn't want to leave her, but I knew I had to if she were to get enough sleep. A heavy feeling of anxiety settled deep within my chest while I thought of being separated from Spencer once again.
"I'll let you get back to sleep," I said quietly.
"I was asleep," Spencer replied. "Actual, real sleep." She paused. "I haven't had that in a long time."
And then she looked up at me with the most trustful expression, and I crumbled. I gave her a small smile in response.
My lips turned down, gazing at her tenderly. "We never gave up." I stared into the depths of her eyes, trying to convey to her that I'd never given up on her.
In that next instant, Spencer sat back up in bed to press her lips softly against mine. I cupped my hands around her face and kissed her back gently, trying to prolong the moment.
I kissed Spencer a few more times on the lips before melting into her, pressing my cheek against her shoulder, relieved to have her back in my arms again. She wrapped her arms around my back, leaning into me. I felt Spencer parting her lips against my neck as she let out a sigh of pure relief, and she rocked us back and forth.
I dug my fingers into her hair and back, holding her desperately to me. In another part of my head, I was thinking in anguish at the range of tortures Andrew had introduced Spencer to. He would suffer for this. I wanted to hurt him so badly that my entire body was buzzing with burning hatred.
I lifted up my head from Spencer's shoulder and frowned, seething. I wanted to tear Andrew apart, limb from limb, to break the bones from his body. Except the girl in my arms–the only person in this world who meant anything to me–was clinging to me, still so utterly trusting and in love with me. But the strong instinct to protect Spencer overpowered everything else, to shield her from this monster who had caused her so much pain.
Then I nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her sweet floral scent, forgetting about the rest of the world for a moment, if only for a little while.
Suddenly, I felt Spencer's shoulders shake and she clung onto me tighter, burying her head into my chest. I frowned, wondering what was bothering her.
I grabbed her shoulders gently, looking into her tear-stained face. "Spencer? What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry," Spencer murmured, sobbing again. "I just…" She met my eyes and then started crying even harder. "I missed you so much, and I was scared without you there with me."
I touched my hands to her face, using my thumbs to wipe away the fresh tears. "Spence, everything's okay," I whispered. "I'm here now."
I pulled Spencer against my chest and squeezed her shoulders. My hand rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. Through her hospital gown, I could feel the thumping of her heart, but she began to shiver.
Spencer pressed her face into my chest by my heart, her tears soaking my shirt as she started sobbing even more.
I thought for a moment, and then stood, walking over to the small linen closet nearby the door that led out into the hallway. I opened it and found a pile of folded blankets on one of the shelves. I took the one that looked to be the thickest and brought it back over to the bed.
Spencer wiped her eyes with her fingers. "Toby, what are you doing?"
Instead of answering, I folded the blanket over her and enveloped her in my arms, leaning back against the mattress. I held Spencer in my arms, waiting for her to warm up.
She nestled into my warm embrace. My eyes lingered on her face, watching as her eyelids gradually closed, heavy with sleep.
Once I was sure she was deeply asleep, I touched a hand to her hair while my arm pressed tighter around her body, holding her closer to me. After a few minutes, Spencer began to relax, and her breathing evened out and deepened. I smiled knowing she was sleeping more comfortably now that I was here.
I may have been Spencer's safe place to land, but she was also mine. It was enough to make me shiver with happiness.
Spencer
Later that morning, I stood in my bedroom after my mom had brought me home from the hospital, pulling out the small bag of prescription medication from my things that the doctor had given me to help me sleep and calm my anxiety, while my mother, Veronica, looked through the window that faced Alison's old room.
The anxiolytic sleeping aids that I'd swallowed earlier that morning had helped, and as the anxiety eased, I'd drifted into a deep, calming sleep after what felt like ages. And since Dr. Grey had diagnosed me as pregnant, I could only take prenatal vitamins and some herbal supplements, as the regular pain medication could harm the baby. When I'd woken, I was still cradled against Toby's chest, his arms wrapped securely around me. And I'd floated through an endless space of clouds and sunlight, all the pain and worry gone. I had happily nuzzled into his chest, content to stay there for as long as possible.
I took out each marked bottle of pills, and then frowned. The anti-anxiety medication was missing. I started frantically rifling through my leather duffel bag, filled with the clothes I'd worn at the hospital.
"I spoke to my friend at the prosecutor's office." My mom pushed aside the thick, creamy curtains from my bedroom window, letting the sunlight seep in. "There's little chance of Mona being charged for faking her death and causing Alison's arrest. 'They'd just as soon blame everything on the Campbell boy. Nice and tidy.'"
Her words barely registered. I tossed and flipped over articles of clothing and toiletries, thinking I must have misplaced the medication bottle somewhere.
"Something's wrong," I said, my chest tightening anxiously. "They made a mistake at the hospital. They left out one of my prescriptions." I turned to my mother. "They're supposed to give me an anti-anxiety medication to help me sleep."
"I asked them not to," she replied calmly.
I frowned at her in confusion, a horrible suspicion growing in my head. "You asked them not to?"
"Spencer, you know you've had some issues."
Six months ago, I'd relapsed on Adderall pills, 'study drugs' I'd become addicted to the summer Ali went missing, to help me prove that Aria's ex-boyfriend, Ezra Fitz–and our former high school AP English teacher–was A, only to find out that he had actually been writing a book to exploit Alison. But now I was clean, and hadn't felt the urge to take pills again since.
Rage filled my body. "Mom, they–they gave me something at the hospital and it was the first night in forever that I got what a normal person would call sleep."
"Honey, you're home now. You're not in the hospital." My mom tried reaching for me, but I yanked my arm away.
"I can't believe that you did this," I said angrily. How could she do this to me? Did she really think so low of me that I would get high on anxiety pills? My mother had taken away my Micrainin medication. What was next, locking me in my bedroom? Cutting off my oxygen?
"It wasn't an easy decision," she said.
"Okay, that makes me feel a lot better," I said sarcastically.
"I will help you any way I can, but I'm not gonna take the chance of you having another problem."
I felt the blood boil under my skin. Knowing that my own mother didn't trust me with prescription pills set something off inside me.
I stared at her. "Mom, I need that prescription."
"No, you want it," my mother argued. "There's a difference.
"That's semantics," I retorted.
"That's the rule. I'm sorry if that sounds unfair, but I have to be firm on this and so do you."
A few seconds of edgy silence passed. So that was how she felt about me. It was as if keeping me on my meds might make things worse in light of my former addiction issues.
I set my jaw, fuming. "Wow. I really am back home."
Furious, I turned to my bed and crossed my arms tightly across my chest, staring dejectedly at the trove of pill bottles that were now scattered across my comforter. I'd taken the anti-anxiety medication last night to help me sleep, and now they were gone. It was like a slap in the face.
I looked down at the floor, letting out a shaky breath. My lips parted as a few stray tears escaped my eyes. I didn't want to think about the dreaded bedtime, afraid the dark shadows of my memories would come back to haunt me again. Fear wrapped around me like thorns, piercing me in a wave of agony. I couldn't sleep without the anxiety pills.
I remained terrified to go to sleep that night, unsure of what I would see once I closed my eyes. My mother continued to watch me anxiously, and it irritated me more.
I dressed slowly in Toby's long-sleeved anchor grey shirt and low-waisted black sweatpants. Before settling into bed, I slipped into my bathroom to grab two prenatal vitamins and some herbal supplements. They did help with the pain, but it was only a temporary solution to the anxiety and fear that poisoned my mind. That night, the shadows returned, as usual.
I lay awake on my side, missing Toby more every hour, with the sheets twisted around my legs from under the thick covers. I was scared, worried, anxious and was alone, missing Toby's angel-soft voice and the feeling of his loving, gentle caress against my skin. My mind refused to shut out the noise, unnerving me as I tossed and turned relentlessly on the bed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to lose consciousness.
The triggers that used to lull me to sleep changed in the darkness of my bedroom. Instead, I became hyperaware that I was in the same room that Charles had tormented me in. Electricity flowed through me, wiring me awake nearly all night. And the high-pitched alarms from the demented Dollhouse echoing loudly in my ears refused to fade away, prying my eyes wide open.
Terror clenched at me as I tried to slow my erratic heartbeat. I sighed and rolled onto my back, hoping sleep would eventually come. I took a painful swallow, closing my eyes, but the moment I did, images of being isolated in that room from the Dollhouse consumed my thoughts.
Darkness was all I could see when the vision pulled under. In the memory, my eyes were squeezed shut as the piercing screams of the siren radiated through my skull. Long, horrible rings punctuated my ears, and the blood rushed to my head. I immediately covered my hands over my ears.
I was trapped inside a cold, dimly-lit room that I didn't recognize. The windowless walls were painted a cool green, and the only furniture was the metal chair I was strapped to. On the table in front of me, my right hand was cuffed by an electric shocking restraint that was hooked to a switchboard where red, round buttons were positioned underneath each photo of Aria, Hanna, and Emily. I had to choose which one of my friends could have food and water for the day, or else A would blare the alarm until I thought my ears would bleed. It was one of the games he wanted to play with us.
Then, suddenly, the alarm stopped as a warm yellow light in the corner flashed, indicating the countdown. "Five…" a woman's voice from the loudspeaker echoed. "Four…three…two…one…"
I felt my throat close, gasping with panic, sickened. A heavy weight pressed down on my chest as the seconds ticked by. My breaths became labored and I squeezed my eyes shut again, allowing the tears to trickle down my cheeks.
Then finally, without looking, I quickly shot out my hand in front of me to one of the photos, pushing the button. A second later, a girl's bloodcurdling scream ripped out through the house–it was Aria. Suddenly, the loud roaring of a train engine screeched against train tracks, and my heart started to race.
My eyes snapped open, the back of my neck icing over with sweat. The screams turned into a howling in my ears. It was clear that sleeping in the dark wasn't an option.
I pushed back the covers and quickly rolled off my bed towards my bedroom door. Then, grabbing one of my short combat boots from nearby the closet French doors, I crawled onto my knees and pulled open the door a crack. I heard a creaking sound as I set down my boot in the space between the door and the wall so it wouldn't close. The soft light from the upstairs hallway streamed in through the door crack.
Panting, I scrambled back into bed, pressing my face into the pillow. I closed my eyes and waited for my beating heart to ease, but all I could hear were the high-pitched alarms in my head and my eyelids popped open again.
As the night wore on, my body felt achy and chilled. I pulled the covers up to my nose, shaking, and later added a pillow, too. I tried to fall sleep, but my mind refused to stop spinning. The baby's sonogram Charles had given me in the Dollhouse wouldn't stop appearing from behind my eyes. Or the memory my aching wrists as I struggled against the cuffs.
Eventually, I'd gotten up and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contact list for Toby's number. He answered on the first ring.
"Spence? Are you okay?"
My lower lip quivered. "Can you come over?"
Toby didn't hesitate. "I'll be right there."
Ten minutes later, Toby appeared in the doorway, looking perfect as usual in a pair of blue jeans and a navy-blue knit V-neck T-shirt that emphasized his muscular chest, his hair tousled from sleep. I looked at him longingly, wanting to seek comfort in the safety of his arms. Then I sprinted off the bed towards him and crashed into his arms.
Toby rubbed my back as I sobbed into his neck. "Shhh, I'm here."
I clung onto him, trying to press myself closer to him. Toby lifted me up against him and I wrapped my legs around his back. Slowly, he carried me over to the bed and set me down carefully.
Toby paused, staring into my face with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Depends on what you mean by okay."
"Oh, Spence…" He pressed a hand to my cheek, and I melted from his touch.
"I couldn't sleep," I explained, swallowing. "Will you spend the night with me?"
Toby's lips parted as his eyes locked onto mine. I thought I saw a flicker of desire residing there in the depths of his blue eyes. "Of course I will. Get in bed and I'll go change."
As I crawled underneath the comforter, I saw Toby stripping down to his grey Calvin Klein boxer briefs. My eyes moved over his defined chest and abs, perfectly sculpted like the body of a Greek God. I looked away and blushed, thinking about if he were naked in my bed. But before I could ponder any more on it, he settled in next to me and pulled me in close to his chest.
I snuggled into him, sighing softly. A few long minutes passed. Then Toby's lips were at my ear.
"Are you asleep yet?" he whispered.
"No."
His lips moved to my hair, nuzzling into it. I closed my eyes and sighed again.
"Toby?" I asked after a moment.
"Hmm?"
"Will you be here when I wake up?" I wanted to be sure that he wouldn't be gone when I woke in the morning.
"I will never leave you," Toby promised. "I love you, I will always love you. We'll get through this together, no matter what happens." His arms tightened around me. "You're the strongest person I know."
"I don't know about that," I disagreed.
He looked down into my face gently, his eyes warm. "You are. And this, us." He lifted my hand and pressed it to his face, and my breath caught in my throat. "This is stronger than any force."
"I love you," I replied.
"And I love you," Toby breathed.
Toby ran his fingers through my hair, and then he started to hum a melody softly in my ear, one I didn't recognize. It sounded like a lullaby. I buried my face into his warm chest as he wrapped his arms around me, listening to his heartbeat thudding. Toby was as comforting as a teddy bear. The exhaustion from the emotional stress of the day finally faded from my subconscious, the muscles in my face loosening with ease.
The sound of his beating heart soothed me to sleep within mere minutes as I drifted off in his loving and protective arms.
