Hello all! Hopefully we're all doing well on this fine day. Wherever you are, I hope you're not drowning in cold and snow, and if you are, remember that it's technically spring now, so things can get better from here. Or, if you're just really done, you can come down here, because Orlando's going to be 90 today. That's too hot for March, guys. But I digress. I guess I shouldn't complain. :P
Your reviews on the last chapter were fantastic. I seriously love you all. Also, thanks for your input on the show, too! Together, we can make it through this rut they're shoving Spoby through. And, really the rest of the characters as well. They're really kind of a train wreck. But anyway. We'll see if anything is actually ~revealed on Tuesday. Personally, I don't have any hope for that. Like I lost faith in the writers a long time ago and now I'm just along for the ride. But we'll see!
Today's chapter is based on my all-time favorite TV show, LOST, and thus is named after a song featured most presently in that show. The chapter title comes from "Make Your Own Kind of Music" by Mama Cass and the AU we find ourselves in today is, obviously, Spencer and Toby stranded on an island. Hopefully you'll enjoy! And maybe you'll want to watch LOST? All six seasons are on Netflix. :P
you're gonna be nowhere, the loneliest kind of lonely
Searing, blinding, white-hot pain is coursing through his veins. It feels as though his entire body is on fire and he can't seem to do anything to stop it. He goes to move away from the heat and realizes he's paralyzed in place; something is holding him back, something is holding him down. Something or someone. A soft breeze tousles through the air but all his nerves are exposed and what should have been pleasant is instead agonizing. Everything hurts. But then… Why is there a breeze at three thousand feet in the air? How can he be in so much pain on a simple, routine flight? Why is there an ever-present smell of jet fuel and roaring, raging fire? Toby doesn't know. But if he had to venture a guess, it's probably a safe bet to say they never made it to Hawaii.
Painfully, Toby opens his eyes and immediately blood drips into his left one and he forces them closed again. Excruciatingly slowly, he lifts his hand to his eye, swipes away the blood and searches for its origin. There's a gash, he can't tell how deep just yet, right above his brow line and even his hands look foreign, he now realizes; calloused and rough and dirty. He's lying in a cavern of sand, right beside tall stalks of bamboo and a giant coral formation, and Toby thinks, horrifyingly, if he'd landed just five feet to left, his brains would be all over the beach and it would've been the end of him. He's lucky. And he'd laugh if it weren't so damn painful because how can anyone be lucky in a situation like this?
Wrapping a bloody, dirty hand around one of the bamboo stalks, Toby braces himself for the pain and hoists himself to a sitting position. His vision clouds with stars for a moment before going clear. Waves crash against the beach, seagulls soar between the clouds and it's a perfect, beautiful day. Or, it would be, if there weren't bits and pieces of the airplane he'd been traveling in strewn across the sand, suitcases upended and plane wings extending skyward. People are screaming for loved ones, people are screaming for help, people are just screaming. Some are hysterically sobbing, some are just staring in shock. And some are dead. Some are scattered along the beach, their bodies in mangled heaps and awkward angles and then Toby's entire world comes crashing down for the second time that day. Spencer.
Suddenly, all the pain and confusion ebbs away and instead are replaced by adrenaline. Toby stands and hurries over to the wreckage, telling anyone he can to get away from the engine. He scans the scene dexterously, taking it all in, and all the mayhem and carnage would be enough to bring one to tears. Jet fuel is spewing from the ends of the plane and the engine is still whirring and spinning wildly, sucking bits and pieces of the plane into its swirling vortex. The landing gear is in a jumbled mess and when jet fuel bathes it moments later, it catches fire. People are running through a maze of plane parts, searching for friends, searching for family, searching for lovers, and each time they find the one they're looking for, Toby watches them reunite and it's like a dagger to his heart.
He can't call her name; she'd never hear him over all the pandemonium. That doesn't stop other people from trying. Toby searches the crowd of running, frightened people, but not one of them matches the one he's looking for. With a grim disposition, Toby checks all of the dead, too, but she hasn't been one of them, so that's got to count for something, right? Just as he's coming around the back of the plane, he hears a baby crying and his eyes snap in that direction. A blonde woman, looking as rough as he feels, is bouncing the baby in her arms and pushing on the chest of a little girl, tears pouring down her cheeks as she pleads with the girl to take a breath. The little one must be four, five at the most, and her pigtails are askew and there's ash on her face. The woman notices Toby moments later and beckons him closer.
"Please! Please help me!" She screams. "She's not- She's not breathing!"
Toby collapses beside them and tilts the little girl's chin back. "What's her name?"
"Molly," The woman's voice breaks over her name. "Please help her!"
He presses two fingers to her neck and bends over the girl's mouth and nose. She isn't breathing, but there's a faint pulse, so she's still with them. Very gently, Toby begins chest compressions and rescue breaths, that four-hour long class he'd taken with Spencer finally paying off. "Come on, Molly. Come back to us."
"Oh my god," The woman sobs. "I've already lost my husband. I can't lose her too!"
The baby wails in her arms and the engine's still whirring behind them. Toby continues administering CPR, and how he's remaining so calm is still a mystery, even to him. "Molly, come on, now. It's okay. You're okay."
And moments later, in the middle of her chest compressions, Molly coughs and sputters and opens her eyes. Her mother shrieks and begins to kiss her endlessly as the little girl begins to cry. Her mother does, too. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
"That's not necessary," Toby insists and then something else catches his eye.
The engine begins to make garbled, strangled sounds and something tells him it's about to go. What's worse is that they're perched right beside it. Without warning, Toby scoops Molly into his arms, grabs her mother's hand and yanks her to a standing position. "Come on. We have to get out of here!"
They sprint in the opposite direction and everyone he passes seems to get the same urgency and follows suit. Moments later, the engine erupts and the shockwaves send all of them careening to the ground. Toby shields the three of them as the shrapnel and flying debris soar through the air and hit the beach around them. Fire roars and adds heat to the already scorching day, but now that the engine has exploded, it's much more quiet. The only things left in the air are the screams of terror, screams of sorrow and screams of pain. Molly and her mother and brother are all in tears and Toby tries to tell them they'll be all right now, they're safe. He finds a young man wandering aimlessly through the rubble and stops him instantly.
"You!" Toby calls and the man stops. "What's your name?"
"Me?" The man wonders, as if he's just been discovered after millions of years. "It's Tim."
"Tim," Toby nods. "I need you to stay with these guys. Keep them out of danger. Watch over them."
Tim agrees and sinks into the sand beside them. "Alright."
"This is Molly and…" Toby drifts off as he goes to introduce them, realizing he'd never learned the baby's name or even the mother's. There hadn't been time. "I'm sorry."
She shakes her head. "Laura. And this is Mason."
"Laura and Mason, then," Toby says gently. "If you guys need anything, just call for me."
And as he begins to jog away, Tim shouts back, "Wait, what's your name?"
"Toby," He offers and then he's gone.
He still hasn't found Spencer and that thought is causing a pit the size of Texas in his gut. He jogs past more wreckage and balks at the sight of the back half of the plane. He can see right inside it, the wires and cables hanging and sparking and the seats torn apart and falling out. There are suitcases strewn about and Toby frowns because these are people's lives, spilled all over the carcass of the plane. There are orange plastic containers of antibiotics and medicines and toothbrushes still in their cases. There are countless shirts, skirts, dresses and shorts, never to be worn again by their owner. There's a stroller and a pet carrier, but no pet inside. There's a teddy bear and photo album and a fairly expensive camera, smashed to pieces. Toby spends so long just looking at remnants of people's belongings that he momentarily gets choked up.
And after a while, he starts to hear a faint voice. "Help… Somebody… Please help me…"
Call him crazy, but it sounds as though it's coming from inside the fuselage. Toby peeks his head in and his eyes widen. A man is hanging upside down from one of the seats, his seatbelt fused together and unrelenting. "Help me, please!"
"We'll get you out of there," Toby calls to him. "Just hang tight a minute, okay? I'm going to get something to cut you out of it and someone to catch you."
Toby hops down from the plane and begins to search through all of the bags for a pocketknife. The FAA regulations would of course prevent this from being in a carry on, but moments later, Toby finds one in one of the checked bags. He gathers two other people to stand below the man and all three of them climb back into the bowels of the plane. It already smells like death and Toby has to wonder how long it's been since they've crashed. He climbs upward, bracing himself on the seats behind the stuck man and trying studiously to ignore the bodies of the dead still strapped in their seats behind him. Reaching forward, he begins to saw at the seatbelt, back and forth in a steady motion, and only then does the man begin to panic.
"Oh my god, is he dead? He's dead isn't he?" He asks, motioning towards the man beside him. "Oh my god. Oh my god."
"Just relax," Toby tells him. "We're going to get you out of here."
"They're all dead, aren't they?" He grows pale. "Oh, I'm going to be sick."
"No. Don't get sick," Toby says. "You're fine. What's your name?"
"Steve."
"Steve, we're going to get you out of here and you're going to be okay," Toby insists. "Don't think about where you are. Think about where you're going."
"I was going to Hawaii to meet my granddaughter for the first time," Steve laments. "Where am I going now?"
Toby pauses a moment. "I don't know."
In moments, the seatbelt comes loose and Steve tumbles downward, into the awaiting arms of the guys below. The four of them climb out of the fuselage and Steve keeps his promise by getting sick seconds later. Toby doesn't blame him. If he doesn't find Spencer soon, he might be following in Steve's footsteps. A bit further down the beach, he hears shouts and cries from panicked patrons and notices the plane wing has fallen to the ground and pinned two people beneath it. It's crushed the man's skull, but the woman he was with might be all right if they can get her out from underneath it. Toby beckons the two guys he'd commandeered for Steve over and they head in that direction, push through the crowd that's forming and reach for the plane's wing.
"Just leave me," The woman sobs. "Just leave me here to die."
"We're not going to do that," Toby tells her. "We'll get you out of here."
"No! Don't!" She wails. "If Richard's gone, I have nothing left anyway!"
Toby glances beside her and notes that Richard must have been her husband. His heart gives another painful tug and he shakes his head, motioning to the guys he's acquired. "On three."
They go to lift the wing and it doesn't budge. More people volunteer, surrounding Toby on either side, and grab for the hunk of metal. Toby, instead, grabs the woman's arms. "We're not letting you die like this."
She's inconsolable and doesn't reply. Again, Toby shouts, "On three! One, two, three!"
This time, they're successful and when they pull the woman out from underneath the wing, it's left both her legs severely bloodied and damaged. One of the men from the opposite side of the wing shouts, "I'm a doctor!"
"Good," Toby nods. "Get her out of here."
He sprints away from the scene, but the adrenaline is dying down and the pain is starting to set in again. It's much quieter, now. The fires are starting to die down and the engine's been gone for hours and people aren't screaming, anymore. Toby strays away from the beach, back towards where he'd first awoken, and sits upon the coral reef formation to finally address the gash on his forehead. It isn't bleeding anymore, but he's sure he must look like the hero at the end of a horror movie- battered, bruised, bloodied and a little broken. Standing, Toby trudges down to the beach and begins to soak his hands, his face and his hair, hissing in pain when the salt water meets his open wound. The smell of jet fuel is still pungent and though the screaming has stopped, the crying has not.
Toby looks down and realizes his hands are shaking.
He doesn't remember much of the crash. He's pretty sure he blacked out from fear and panic and didn't wake up until his body hit the beach. What he does remember is what came before. He and Spencer had been late to the airport and their first-class seats were ironically given out to another honeymooning couple while they were bumped to coach. In their defense, weddings are exhausting and they'd been on the move nonstop the day prior, so of course they overslept in their giant bed in the honeymoon suite. It was only natural. In retrospect, they probably shouldn't have booked their flight for the morning directly after their wedding night. And as irritating as the change was for Spencer, Toby had calmed her by telling her that as long as they got there, it didn't matter how.
It was a long flight from Pennsylvania to Hawaii and they slept a little, but mostly they were much too excited to get there and filled with leftover giddiness from their wedding the day prior. Five hours into the flight, Spencer began to shift uncomfortably and frowned. "I have to pee."
Toby smirked. "So go. The bathroom's up in first class."
"I'm not going up there," Spencer disagreed. "Those are supposed to be our seats up there."
"So you're going to stick it to the man by not using the bathroom?" He chuckled. "That seems like you're only punishing yourself, not them."
She considered it and shook her head. "No. They should have a grace period. We weren't that late."
"We were over an hour late, Spence," Toby told her. "It's fine. Let it go. Go pee."
"There has to be a bathroom at the back of the plane," Spencer said. "They can't expect all of us commoners to go up where the other half lives."
"There is," Toby confirmed. "But it's been occupied for like ten minutes. It's probably someone who gets airsick. You don't want to go in there after them."
"Ew," She scrunched up her nose. "It's fine. I can hold it."
"For five more hours?" He questioned. "Because that's how long we have left."
"Forget it, let's watch a movie," Spencer suggested, sticking an earphone in and handing him the other. "Anything you want. I don't care."
"Anything I want?" Toby exclaimed. "Okay. Do you mind if I document this? This never happens."
She eyed him. "It never will again if you keep sassing me."
He chuckled and picked a random comedy from the list as Spencer came to rest her head against his shoulder. Toby pressed a kiss to her crown as the opening credits rolled but after mere minutes of the watching the movie, Spencer began to fidget again. Toby rolled his eyes and said, "Just go. I'll even pause the movie for you."
"Fine," Spencer gave in. "But this isn't over. The airline will hear about this."
"About the bathroom in first class?" Toby asked and she shot him a look.
"About the nonsense late policy and them giving up our perfect seats," Spencer corrected before standing and heading towards the front of the plane. "I'll be right back."
Toby grinned, watching her go and wondering how he got so lucky so early in life. A flight attendant came by and offered him a drink and he declined and, thinking of Spencer's bladder, declined for her as well. The engine roared beneath them and stalled and they hit a rough patch of turbulence that left Toby gripping his seat with white knuckles. The pilot came over the intercom, instructed all flight staff to return to their seats, and turned on the fasten seatbelt sign faster than Toby had ever seen. The wings began to buckle, the plane began to vibrate and suddenly, it dropped twenty, thirty, forty feet as though this were a thrill ride at some amusement park. There was a horrifying sound of screeching metal, screams of terror, and the plane was going down, down, down-
And that's all he remembers. The next thing he knows, he's waking up on the beach.
"I can't get a signal," Tim announces to the group, holding his cell phone as high as it'll go. "Tell me they don't have service on this godforsaken island."
"Why would they have service in the middle of the south pacific?" A man shouts out. "There aren't any cell towers out here!"
"But they're looking for us, right?" Steve wonders. "They have to be looking."
"Of course they're looking for us," A woman answers. "The plane had a black box, right? They probably know exactly where we are."
"At least someone does!"
"That's not even what a black box does!"
Toby allows them to argue and contributes nothing to the conversation. There are roughly forty of them left and none of them are Spencer, that's all he cares about. He's sitting away from them, by a giant signal fire they'd built before it started to get dark, and he feels incredibly lonely and ridiculously stupid. Of course Spencer isn't here; Spencer had been in the front of the plane at the time of the crash and the front of the plane is gone. It's obvious to anyone who looks at it that the plane had broken in half, but he'd thought, in his naïve way, that it had broken in half upon impact, not while it was still in the sky. He's glad he blacked out, now, because he can't imagine how horrifying that must have been to experience. Now, he sits dejectedly, waiting for rescue, twisting his wedding ring over and over, defeated.
Moments later, Laura and her two kids come walking up the beach towards him. Mason's asleep in her arms and Molly waves excitedly when she sees Toby. He smiles the best he can and greets her. "Hi Molly. How are you feeling? Better now?"
She nods and wraps her tiny arms around him in a hug. Surprise must be evident in his eyes, because Laura explains, "We wanted to thank you for saving her life."
She sits beside him as Molly lets go and offers him a small tray covered in tin foil. "I brought you some dinner. It's what we found in the back of the plane."
Toby accepts it, peels back the foil a bit and peers down at the cold chicken, rice and green beans. "Thanks. I'm not very hungry."
"You should eat," Laura insists. "Our fearless leader's got to keep his strength up."
Toby's never considered himself fearless and he's definitely no leader, but he says nothing. Laura then asks, "What were you going to Hawaii for?"
He doesn't know how to say the words without vomiting. Laura misinterprets his silence and answers her own question instead. "My husband and I were taking the kids to that Disney resort, Aulani? We figured we'd get the island vacation we wanted and they would still get to see Mickey. Best of both worlds, you know?"
She sighs, tears filling her eyes. "We crashed but all made it and then… We couldn't get out of the plane. The burning engine was in our way. Molly was unconscious and Curt was stuck… And he told me to get out and save the kids, that he was right behind me… And then he wasn't."
"I'm sorry," Toby tells her, knowing what comes next. The explosion is still ringing in his ears. "I wish I'd had time to save both of them."
"No, this isn't on you," Laura insists. "You saved my daughter's life. That's more than I can ever repay you for as it is."
Toby inhales a deep breath in the silence that follows. He glances out at the dark, undulous waves and says, "We were on our honeymoon. My wife and I… We just got married yesterday. We were sitting in the middle but she got up to use the restroom… And didn't come back."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Laura claps a hand to her mouth. "You just got married yesterday. Oh god!"
"I'm going into the jungle tomorrow or I'm going to walk this whole beach," Toby tells her firmly. "I'm going to find her."
Laura eyes him. "What do you mean?"
"The front of the plane is missing," Toby says. "But it's got to be somewhere. It's not like it disappeared into thin air. And she was in it, so… She's got to be there too."
Laura says nothing. Toby doesn't have to ask to know where her mind is. "You think I'm crazy."
"No," Laura shakes her head, insistent. "I think you're in love. And if I thought there was any chance the love of my life was still out there, I'd go looking too."
He nods. "Right."
"Just do me a favor?" She asks. "Don't go alone. We're going to need you around here."
She smiles, stands, and leads Molly and Mason away. Toby's left to contemplate her words, unsure of how to take it that these people seem to think he's their leader now. He has hope that any moment now, they'll see the bright, blinding lights of helicopters or rescue boats to be their saving grace. But if they don't… He doesn't know how to be a leader. That was always Spencer's role and he was more than content to let her take control. She was good at it too; a natural-born leader, even if at times she doubted herself. He has no doubt in his mind that she would have done the very same thing today- take care of everyone else, make them safe and sound, before worrying about herself. He lies back against the sand, watches the stars, and waits for rescue, waits for answers, waits for a sign. The only thing he gets is the bright sunshine on a brand new day.
"Why haven't they found us yet?" A woman asks impatiently the next morning. "It's been, like, fourteen hours since the crash."
"We're already running out of food and water," A man complains. "Do we have to, like, hunt and shit?"
"Mommy," Molly says quietly. "I wanna go home."
They all turn to Toby and he clears his throat. "I'm heading into the jungle today. There was some smoke I noticed earlier this morning just past the tree line. I believe this might be the front of the plane and I'd like to make a trip to see if there are any other survivors. We can look for water sources and maybe some fruit while we're out there as well. I'm leaving in ten minutes. If anyone wants to come along, don't hesitate."
Tim and a woman named Michelle follow him into the woods moments later. The entire walk is in silence until about an hour in, Michelle pipes up. "Toby, what do you think we're going to find?"
"If we're lucky, the other half of the plane," He says. "If not… Nothing."
"What are you looking for, man?" Tim wonders. "You seem really on edge."
Toby thinks of everything Spencer is and everything they have and all they've ever done together and says, honestly, "I lost everything in that plane crash yesterday. I'm hoping to get it back."
It's hot and humid and sticky, but the sun is beginning to duck behind the gray storm clouds that have come rolling in just as they come to a clearing in the jungle. It hadn't always been a clearing, but the thick white body of a plane had leveled many of the trees in the surrounding area, branches and palm fronds poking through the front window of the plane. It's eerily quiet and Toby feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Something isn't right. It's much too silent for there to have been any survivors. But he presses on, unable and unwilling to accept this as the truth. The nose of the plane is in the air and the jagged opening is pressed against the ground. Toby turns to his comrades and nods.
"Check the surrounding area for survivors," He orders, beginning to climb into the plane's remains. "I'm going in."
It's a grim scene and he balks immediately at the strong scent of death. Slowly walking through the aisle, he glances upon each of the passengers, still strapped into their seats, some with oxygen masks still around their noses and mouths, and waits for movement. He isn't surprised when no one stirs; everyone in the front section of the plane is dead and for a moment, Toby is taken aback because this was almost them; this would have been them, had they not been late the day earlier. As he continues forward, his eyes fall upon the very honeymooning couple that had gotten their seats and his stomach rolls as he notes their hands are still intertwined, even in death. For some reason, he feels lucky and if he ever gets off this damn island, he's going to thank that man at the gate who gave their seats away, who saved his life. He's reached the very front of the plane now, and the cockpit door is wide open and hanging off its hinges and Toby starts uncomfortably when he notices the front window is broken and the glass shards are in the copilot's chest. The pilot has a branch full of palm fronds through his skull.
Glancing away, Toby's eyes come to rest on the bathroom door and his heart beats faster and his palms begin to sweat and he can feel bile begin to rise in his throat. Spencer is nowhere to be found, but if she's going to be anywhere, it's here. He takes a few deep, palliative breaths and tries to tell himself to remain calm, despite the fact that inside, he's screaming. Part of him doesn't want to open the door, doesn't want to confirm what he hopes more than anything isn't true, but part of him needs it if he's ever going to go back and face those people on the beach. He needs to stop clinging to the hope that she's still alive; he needs to just know. Toby reaches outward with a shaking hand and grips the door handle, giving it a tug. It doesn't budge. He adjusts his grip, jiggles it a little and yanks with all his might and still, it doesn't move. It's jammed shut, fused together from the impact, and just when Toby is wracking his brain trying to figure out a way in, he hears the faintest stir from the other side and stops dead.
"Is… Is someone there?"
His heart soars skyward and he's filled with an unrelenting sense of relief. "Spencer?"
"Toby?" He hears her cry. "Oh my god… Oh my god…"
"Oh my god, Spence, you're alive," He loses himself in the joy of finding her just for a moment. "I thought… Oh my god."
"I can't get the door open," She panics. "I've tried everything. I can't… It won't budge!"
"It's okay, it's okay," He repeats, searching the area for something, anything, that might help. "I'm going to get you out of there. I promise."
"Hurry. Please hurry." Spencer pleads and he can't blame her for it. If he were trapped in an airplane bathroom for sixteen hours, he'd go crazy, too.
Frantically, Toby begins searching for anything that might break her out of there and finally, he finds a fire extinguisher behind a pane of glass. He kicks it in, snatches the object, and begins to bash it repeatedly against the door handle. Over and over they collide, each time with more animalistic fury, because he can't seem to free her fast enough for his liking. What feels like hours later, the handle splinters off and the door pops open and Spencer's in his arms before he can even process her presence. He drops the extinguisher on the floor and wraps his arms around her, nearly lifting her into the air with the intensity of their embrace. Moments later, she's crying; he can feel the tears drop onto his shirt and when they begin to sting at his eyes as well, he allows himself a moment to lament with her because it could have been so much worse.
"I thought you were dead," She sobs. "I thought I lost you. I thought-"
"Shh, I'm here," He quiets her, smoothing her hair. "I'm okay. You're okay. We made it and we're going to be fine."
"The turbulence was so bad," She says, shaking. "And then I heard this sound, like metal breaking apart, and all of a sudden we were in free fall. I just curled up in a ball in the corner and made myself as small as I could and then… We crashed. It was loud and hard and painful and it knocked me out for a minute but when I came to, I couldn't get the door open. I tried everything… And then I thought someone here would help me, but no one ever came."
"They're dead, Spencer," Toby explains. "They're all dead."
"The whole plane?" Her eyes widen and Toby shakes his head.
"The plane broke in half. The front section landed in here, in the jungle, and the back end landed on the beach," He says. "There are about forty of us back there."
Spencer asks eagerly, "And no one's come for us yet?"
Toby sadly shakes his head. "No one's come."
She glances around the skeleton of the plane, shivers, and asks, "Can we go? Can we please get out of here?"
"Yes. Yeah, come on. Let's go," He wraps an arm around her and leads her back down the aisle. She gasps in horror at the sight of the dead bodies and he pleads with her, "Don't look at them."
She doesn't heed his warning. "Toby… Those are our seats."
"I know," He ushers her away. "Come on."
"We almost died," She says brokenly. "We should have died."
"But we didn't," He tells her simply. "And now we have to go on."
They climb down from the nose of the plane and meet up with Tim and Michelle before hiking on, back towards the beach. Spencer's clutching Toby's hand in a vice-like grip and staring absentmindedly into space and he's sure her thoughts are a million different places at once, and given all she's been through in the past forty-eight hours, it would make sense, but she's still starting to scare him. She stops a moment, so he stops, and when he looks at her, he's sure she's going to burst into tears again, but instead she frames his face with both of her hands and kisses him with more passion than he'd thought she was capable of in her current emotional state. He kisses her back just as strongly, all his love and fear and relief poured into it, and caresses her face the tiniest bit when she pulls away.
There are tears in her eyes when she says, "I was so scared."
Her sentence has a million different reasons and a million different meanings and he feels every single one of them with just as much intensity as the love he has for her. "I know, Spence. I know. Me too."
"I love you so much," She whispers. "I love you so much and I can't lose you."
"I love you too," He promises. "And I'm not going anywhere."
They return to the beach and everyone welcomes Spencer as though she's been a part of them all along. There's still no sign of rescue and their food and water supplies are dipping dangerously low, but two guys have begun to set fishing nets and a woman has picked a large surplus of mangos and pineapples, so they might be okay. Steve and a couple of the others have harvested a few of the pieces of the fuselage to use for makeshift shelters and Laura has done a wonderful job of keeping that signal fire burning day and night. They aren't giving up hope; they'd like a rescue more than just about anything right now. But it's been twenty-four hours now with no sign of it and after all, they must survive.
That night, as everyone is turning in for bed, Toby and Spencer lounge beneath the shining stars and watch the waves seep into the shore before them. His arm's around her when he says, "This is not the honeymoon I'd had in mind."
Spencer chuckles quietly. "Hardly. If we ever get out of here, the airline will hear about this."
Toby nods. "Right after you complain about their late policy, right?"
She grows serious and shakes her head. "No. That late policy saves lives."
He kisses her temple just as Laura and her two kids walk by. He nods in greeting and she grins. "Goodnight, you two. Spencer, it's so good to have you here. What's a king without his queen?"
Toby laughs. "Goodnight Laura. Bye Mason, Molly!"
Molly giggles and waves and the three are on their way. Spencer nods towards them and asks, "Friends of yours?"
"Oh yeah, we go way back," He jokes and then adds, "I kind of, sort of saved that little girl's life yesterday. And Laura's nice. She's a widow now, which is unfortunate."
Her eyes widen. "You saved someone's life?"
"A few people, actually," Toby shrugs. "I was looking for you and I couldn't find you but everyone needed help. I did what I had to do… I did what I thought you might do."
Spencer smiles slowly. "You are the most amazing person I know."
"Funny," He kisses her quickly. "That's how I feel about you."
A soft breeze tousles the palm fronds and the salty seawater laps at the shore and smoke from the signal fire billows into the sky long into the night. Maybe rescue hadn't come today and maybe it won't tomorrow either; maybe it won't come at all. But now that they've found one another, Toby and Spencer will take it all, hand in hand.