You might think that I'm not going to do what it appears I'm going to do. YOu might be right. You might be wrong. I invite you to read my other stories and remember that I'm not afraid of character death, just saying.

I'm trying to make it as realistic as possible, and the thing that I find the most unrealistic about this show is that everyone always escapes. I don't believe that is likely at all. :). Also, I lied. This is going to be six chapters... I can hear your disappointment :)

Chapter 3

SPOV

She sucked in a shallow breath as they ran up the forbidding walkway to Radley. A sense of fear settled deep in her stomach, just as it always did when she approached the building that housed some of her life's worst moments. She didn't remember much of her time in Radley, but the flashes that she remembered were nearly debilitating in the angst that they caused her.

She loved Toby more than she could express in words, and she had a fairly expansive vocabulary. Thinking that he betrayed her, the only person on the planet that she thought she was free to love with her whole heart, was a nearly fatal blow. Radley was a blur, but what she did remember was the permeating desire to not be Spencer Hastings anymore. And if she hadn't found Toby when she had she might have acted on that desire.

But it didn't matter anymore, because she had found Toby. She had found him and he loved her, and that, if absolutely nothing else, made being Spencer Hastings worth it. If Toby loved her she could get through everything.

But this would certainly be a test of that.

As they entered the haggard double doors it was like the atmosphere changed. There was something about Radley that sucked the life right out of your soul. She was scared.

Hanna's piercing screech pulled her from her troubling memories. "Did you just see that?"

She caught sight of a red hood ducking around the corner. "I thought that Ali was Red Coat?"

Emily snorted. "Guess not." She chased after one of the key figures in their nightmarish high school experience, but when they rounded the corner behind her they realized that they needn't have run.

The devil in red was staring at them, her bright blue eyes as cold and empty as they had every seen them. She was momentarily concerned about the sight of their "best friend," the one they had fought for and given up everything for, in front of them in the infamous red hoodie. It was a devastating blow to find out that Alison was Red Coat. But all of that could wait, because she couldn't tear her wondering eyes from the wired barrels behind her. "What is this?"

Alison laughed bitterly. "It was my only way out, you know? Becoming Red Coat wasn't my first choice, I just wanted you to figure out who had attacked me..."

Emily looked devastated, and she supposed that she understood that. Emily and Alison has always had a deeper relationship, one that none of them really knew the extent of. Aria looked confused, and Hanna looked pissed. Honestly, she was more annoyed that she let her suspicion of Alison go. She knew that there was something about the way that she disappeared that she didn't trust. She let down her friends, her sisters. And she wasn't sure that she would ever be able to forgive herself for that.

"What the hell are you talking about, Alison?" Aria snapped.

It was usually her job to question people, but her eyes were still trained on the barrels. This wasn't going to end well. "Don't worry about that right now," she interrupted. "It doesn't matter. We have to get out of here."

"Spencer, what-"

Spencer interrupted Hanna's annoyed interjection with a shake her head. "Go!"

"You bitches really should listen to Spencer more often."

If it wasn't her life it would have been comical how the four of them jumped in sync. She turned around, and for the first time looked into Wren Kingston's crazed eyes without the distortion of a TV screen, and it literally chilled her to the bone. To see someone she genuinely cared about look so different and exactly the same at the same time. But maybe the most terrifying part was the silky, unfamiliar, tone of his accent-less voice. "Wren, I-"

"What?" He snapped. "Didn't think I was capable of this? Didn't think that lowly, spineless Dr. Kingston was capable of anything more than hitting on little girls?"

Hanna shrugged. "Maybe. Because us turning you down is the only motivation that you possibly could have for doing this to us." She sounded more than a little hysterical, which was more Emily's scene than Hanna's; a distinct mark of the seriousness of the situation.

Wren let out a noise that was indistinguishable. It was something between a shriek and a laugh. "You think that's all that you did to me?"

There was a long pause before anyone spoke. "Aren't you going to explain?" Aria asked hesitantly.

Wren snorted. "This isn't a movie, and I'm not the super villain that you're about to foil. Alison, it's time. Do it."

Alison's expression had taken on something completely new. There were tears welling up in her big, blue eyes Tears of fear, anguish... whatever it was she didn't know. Her eyes dropped to Alison's shaking hand and the trigger clasped between her trembling fingers "Ali..." she said softly.

Alison shook her head, her blonde curls smacking her in the face. "No! No, stop. I don't want to do this. I never wanted to do this. But I have to. I've screwed up a lot in my life, but I'm going to see this through. Do any of us really deserve to make it out of here?"

"Alison, what are you doing?" Emily whispered. "Stop. Drop it."

It didn't take a genius to see that Radley was rigged to blow up, and they were all right in the epicenter of what was sure to be an explosion that rocks the entire town. "Guys, just run," Spencer said softly, never taking her eyes off of Alison. "Go."

She heard rustling behind her, and just as she was about to join them a large hand curled around her wrist in a vice grip. "No, I want you to stay." Wren's smooth, British accent was back. "You're the guest of honor, didn't you know? I tried to let this go, Spencer. I tried to let it go, but you would never give me the time of day. You were so focused on that carpenter that you didn't see how desperate I was. If you had just- If you had just picked me I could have let my vendetta against my family go and maybe none of this would have happened."

"I don't understand!" She was trying to stay calm, but hysteria was seeping in. Her friends probably didn't even realize that had left her behind in the panic. "What are you talking about? Why would you even target us to begin with. I get your family, but what did we do? I may have never wanted you, but I certainly was never cruel enough to deserve this."

He laughed bitterly. "You seriously don't remember what you did to Bethany, do you? I always thought it was a ploy, but maybe it isn't."

"Wha-"

He didn't even let her get a full work out before tightening his grip on her wrist and turning to Alison. If she wasn't so afraid she was sure she'd be doubled over in pain. He was crushing her arm with his hand. "Now, Alison!"

Ali gave her one more apologetic look before pressing the red button. It was like it happened in slow motion, the exploding barrels, the fire, the heat. The explosion shot her and Wren into the thick, brick wall behind them. Her head bounced off the brick, stunning her as she fell to the ground in a heap. Wren's heavy body was draped over her, ironically shielding her.

Blood dripped into her eyes as everything started to fade. Her ears were ringing in a tenor that was equal in pitch to the terrified screams she was sure to be admitting if she was able to. Her chest was on fire as her lungs filled up with smoke and dust. The world was fading into a mass of swirling oranges and reds. Something heavy fell on top of them, knocking the last of the air out of her chest and taking her consciousness along with it.

TPOV

If he wasn't convinced that there was something, anything, he could do for her he would have fallen to his knees in an inconsolable heap. But he had to convince himself that there was something he could do to save her. That was what was going to keep him going.

Three shadows stumbled out of the wreckage of the building, and in that moment he knew, he knew, that Spencer was the one that got left behind. She was so infuriatingly desperate to keep her friends safe that she never considered the long term consequences, but only what would help in the interim.

But as he skidded to a stop in front of the three wheezing girls, none of which were the only one he cared about in that moment, he wanted to vomit. Knowing and having it confirmed were two drastically different things. "Where's Spencer?" He asked in a voice that was harsher than the one that he wanted to come out. But God, he was so tired of his girlfriend being the one to take the brunt for these three. They had all dealt with their share of suffering, but somehow, in the end, Spencer always seemed to be the one coming out the worst.

Hanna recovered first, swiping at the bloody gash on her cheek and shrugging out of Caleb's frantic embrace. "Oh my God. Oh my God, she was supposed to be right behind us."

Emily was doubled over, coughing as loudly and painfully as he had ever heard. "She-" she let out another painful cough. "She told us to run."

He glanced from Emily back over his shoulder to the burning building. "Who was it?" He asked, in a hurried voice. "Who has been doing this?"

"Wren," Aria whispered. "He-"

He wasn't hearing anymore. He turned and darted the last few feet and up the imposing stairs of the Sanitarium that officially housed every single one of his nightmares. But this was decidedly moving into first place, because he couldn't imagine pulling her out of this unscathed. But what he did know was that he wasn't leaving until he found her.

He could hear the others bellowing his name behind him but he wasn't stopping. They could come if they wanted, but he wasn't going to pause to debate the merits of running into a crumbling, burning building. Spencer was everything to him and she was still inside. He wasn't going to stop until she was safe. He immediately paused seeing a red sleeve near where the nurse's station used to be. The rest of the body was covered in rubble, but he was fairly confident that he was safe to assume that this was the infamous Red Coat. In another time he would worry about her, but right now he had time for no one but Spencer.

A few feet to the left, he almost missed it, he saw a leg poking out from underneath a pile of broken bricks and piece of the ceiling. He was afraid to dig this one out, because if it was Spencer he couldn't imagine the damage this had done to her petite body. But he did it anyway, hauling away heavy bricks and debris from the pile. He was endlessly grateful for his carpentry induced muscles. If that's what it took to get her out of here, the irony wasn't lost on him. He thought that it would be the police that would save her, but in the end it was the result of hard, physical labor.

The last piece was the heaviest. He grunted as he struggled to pull it off. He glanced warily back at the growing fire before glancing down at the body that he had just freed. At first he was disappointed, because this was clearly Wren Kingston. For the first time in his life he was glad to see the extent of someone else's suffering. Wren's body was nothing more than blood, bruises, and twisted limbs. But then he noticed a much more petite hand below him. He shoved Wren out of the way and let out a sob of relief and horror when he saw that it was Spencer.

He found her. He chest was still moving, but that was the only good sign that he saw. Her hair was matted in blood and her eyes were open and vacant. Blood trailed down her face from a laceration on her forehead, and her arm was covered in burns, likely the side that was exposed to the explosion. There was probably infinitely worse damage, and he could be making it worse by moving her, but he didn't see any alternative.

He lifted her to his chest, cradling her like a baby into the safety of his suit jacket. As soon as he got outside, where the roar of the fire didn't fill his ears, he could hear her labored, rattling breathing. She had clearly inhaled a significant amount of smoke. Her other arm, the one that wasn't burnt, was twisted in an unnatural way, obviously badly broken. He lowered her into the waiting arms of the paramedics who were just arriving. He didn't ask for permission nor did he look to see what was going on with her friends before climbing into the ambulance. He sat in the back, watching them frantically working over her unresponsive body as the sped off to the hospital.

He wasn't sure what weighed heavier in his mind, anger or terror. But what he did know that he didn't plan on leaving her side until he knew that she was okay. She had to be okay.