AN: Hiiiiiii. Sorry this took a couple weeks to finish editing but it's super long, so that's something, right?

Reviews are wonderful motivation and always appreciated. Thank you so much for reviewing if you do, because it means so much to me that you'd take time out of your day to write to me about my story. Thank you to everyone who reads my work. I love you all.

Disclaimer: I own nothing :)


"'My cat was kidnapped once. It was the worse worstest day of my life'," Toby read from his chair by her bed.

Spencer giggled, leaning forward to pick up an envelope from the pile that had been so neatly tossed in the middle of her hospital bed. "'I'd love to help you, but I don't know how. I hope everything works out for you. My name is Marcie Walters and if you need anything, I've enclosed my number along with some cash. It's not much but I figured some was better than none'…" Spencer smiled, legitimately touched by the kindness of some people.

Toby picked up another. "'I hope this letter finds you in good conditions. I thought you should know I've been praying for you every single night and my bible study this week wrote about you in our journals. You're more than welcome to come visit our church. We are Sacred Light on the corner of Southhaven and Greendale.' … She sounds nice," He offered.

"She sounds like my Nana."

He laughed stridently. "I like your Nana."

"She likes younger men," Spencer wiggled her eyebrows at him.

He wrinkled his nose, picking up another letter. "'Pretty girls like you shouldn't be harmed. I can keep you'…" He didn't even finish reading it before tossing it aside.

"Hey!" Spencer complained. "Toby! I want to know what they said!"

"No, you don't."

She rolled her eyes and lurched forward, digging deep into the pile. She pulled one out that was written in orange sharpie. "'White girls like you deserve to get their asses kicked. Go suck'. . . Okay, you're right. Some of these don't need to be read," She tossed the card next to the other discarded ones.

He gave her a disgusted look before grabbing another. "'Dear Spencer, I want you to know that so many people out there care about you and your friends. I have followed your story for years and cannot imagine the horrors you've endured. I just want you to know, sweetie, that everything will work out in the end'," He trailed off, his eyes looking like they ached.

"What?"

Toby shook his head slightly before giving her a half-smile. "She sounds like my mom," He admitted quietly.

Spencer reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tight. "She sounds amazing."

He smiled again but it didn't reach his eyes now. "This person," He changed the subject, holding up a fat white envelope, "sent you about a hundred dollars."

She smiled. "I got a check for one fifty somewhere in this pile too."

"You got a ten in this one," He pointed to a bright green letter that hadn't even been sealed.

"I think that was a kid's allowance," She laughed softly before leaning away from the pile.

"Hey," Toby touched the inside of her thigh. "If you're tired we can-"

"I'm not tired," She cut off, waving her hand. "It's just. . .these people really think that sending me money is going to help me in some way. Like money is a cure for any bad thing that happens in life."

His hand rubbed down her thigh to her ankle. "I think people just like having some sort of control over hard situations. It makes them happy if they feel like they did something to help."

"I don't need to be anyone's charity case."

"You're not!" He exclaimed adamantly. "People just like to-"

"To help poor little girl, who are wounded and fragile," She finished, grabbing another card from the pile.

"To help people who have had bad things happen to them," He corrected, compellingly.

"Not everyone apparently," She snorted after a minute. "'I hope you know its attention seeking sluts like you who are ruining our world. Stop stirring up bad shit and maybe bad shit wouldn't happen to you.'"

She held the card out to him, smirking. He only read the first sentence for himself before crumbling it up in his hand. She heard him swear under his breath, rolling his eyes in a very Hastings-esque way.

"I think we've had enough card reading for the day," She decided, shoving the envelopes back into the bag her dad had stuffed them in. His protective reaction pleased her, the way it always had, but she fought to keep it inside, the way she always did. "Who sent all these flowers?" She asked, gesturing to the bouquets upon bouquets, all arranged in perfect lines, color coordinated and watered by her mother.

"Everyone in this town," He chuckled. "You're going to have to be more specific which ones you mean."

"The pink and red roses?"

"Hanna and Ashley."

"The yellow daffodils?"

"Aria. I think she wrote Ezra's name on the card too."

"What about the lilies?"

"The white or the red?"

"White."

"My parents," He gave her a slightly exasperated, bemused look.

She let out a disbelieving laugh, short and shocked. "They acknowledged my existence?"

"It would look that way."

"Is hell freezing over?"

He laughed now. "And the hydrangeas are from Emily and her mom, the lilacs are from Mrs. Ackard, I think the three vases of red roses came from one of your neighbors? And the orchids came from some church goers? Uh, the yellow roses came from some woman who said she knew you. I think she worked for your mom? One of your old teachers sent you the violets. Aria's parents sent the sunflowers. Mona sent you one of the carnations and your parents' gardener sent you the others. Dean, your old sober coach sent some too but I didn't pay attention."

"Is the giant bouquet of purple and peach roses from my Nana?" Spencer asked, smiling affectionately.

"Yes," He chuckled. "Your mom said she was planning on coming down to see you."

"Who sent the daisies?"

"Jason."

Spencer snapped her head towards him. "Jason?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, he was actually here before you woke up."

"Why didn't you wake me?" She pressed incredulously, borderline irritated.

"You were sleeping," He reasoned. "I wasn't going to wake you up," He stated like it was the most logical choice in the world. At her disappointed face, he offered, "He said he'll come back. He just," Toby paused, trying to get the words right. "He doesn't want to see your parents. And your mom has been here nonstop."

Spencer sighed. She knew how tense his relationship was with both her mom and their dad, how much animosity laid between them all. "I get it," She finally said. Spencer had always had an understanding with Jason, despite the fact that he often seemed disinterested in building a relationship with his half-sister. Still, the fact that he would come and see her meant a lot.

She, much to her own dismay, found herself getting emotional again. She was beginning to think it was the hospital drugs doing this to her. "Who sent the marigolds?" She asked quickly, to get her mind on something else.

Toby froze, his voice caught for a few seconds. Spencer sensed his distress immediately. "Hey, what's wrong?" She asked gently, reaching to touch his face.

He tried to shake it off, suppressing back whatever had upset him. "Nothing," He took the hand covering his cheek and planted a kiss in the center of it. "Yvonne's parents sent the marigolds," He finally admitted.

Spencer's breath caught in her throat now, a huge pit filling up her stomach, same as days prior when she'd had a full-fledged meltdown at the mere thought of her name.

Her eyes fell to her lap, moving her hand away from him to toy with the blanket he'd brought when she had complained the other one was too abrasive.

They both sat in a tense silence for a full minute. "Did you guys have a bad breakup?" Spencer finally blurted out, having to spit out the words before she lost her courage.

Toby looked down, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, we did."

Before she could pry anymore information out of him, two sets of footsteps joined them in the private room. "Hello, Miss Hastings," Tanner greeted, her mouth twisting into her usual fake smile. Lorenzo Calderon stood by her side, clearly feeling good in his gray suit.

Spencer stuttered for a second on her words, stunned to see them here. "Hi," She finally choked out, looking at Toby like he had any indication to what was going on.

"How are you?" The gray haired woman asked, feigning actual interest in Spencer's well-being as she perched herself on the edge of the hospital bed, opposite side of Toby.

"I'm good," She said, uncomfortable as hell but stifling it down.

You're in politics, Hastings, She scolded herself. It's your job to deal with uncomfortable situations with a smile on your face.

Something about this woman though, threw her back into her high school years, made her feel two inches tall and like she was constantly doing something wrong. Spencer could feel herself beginning to sweat just looking at the woman.

"How do you feel?" Tanner asked, giving her a once over, like this is the first time she noticed she was in the hospital.

"I don't feel much," She answered, honestly. At the detective's look, "The drugs. They keep me feeling pretty numb. And sleepy. But it's getting better," She scratched her neck, awkwardly. "They're lessening them, giving me smaller doses."

"So they're treating you well here?" Tanner asked, in her same sugary voice.

"Yes," She smiled, professionally pleasant.

"Good," Tanner matched her smile, though everyone in the room knew she really didn't give a crap how Spencer was being treated.

"So," Lorenzo began, turning slightly towards Toby. "We're here to talk to you about what happened the other night."

Spencer suddenly remembered way back when Toby was in the Harrisburg Police Academy. She remembered him bringing to her house thick books, manuals and spiral journals full of his notes-she'd been overly proud by how intensely he took them-for her to help him study.

Officers will often use words and phrases such as "We're here to talk to you", "We want to know more about", "Could you tell me about", instead of words like interview, interrogation, questioning or examination when they don't want the subject to know they're under scrutiny, she'd read once in Toby's messy handwriting.

"Maybe Officer Cavanaugh could step out for a few minutes," Lorenzo hinted not so subtly, condescendingly gesturing with his chin towards the door.

Toby's mouth opened a little, the way it always did when he was unsure or embarrassed or insecure. He looked down for a couple seconds before moving to get out of his chair.

Spencer lunged forward and grabbed his hand. "He's staying," She stipulated, her eyes darting between both cops, no room for compromise in her eyes. She suddenly found her nerve when Toby was brought into the equation. "Toby stays with me."

"Miss Hastings-"

"I said," She repeated, gripping his hand tighter, her voice growing louder, "He stays with me."

Both the detectives exchanged a look and Lorenzo scrawled something down on his notepad, attempting to be nonchalant.

When taking notes during an interview, be subtle. Don't let the subject know what you're writing. Wait ten to fifteen seconds after they say something interesting, so not to tip them off.

Page 54.

She'd never been more grateful she was such a hands on girlfriend.

Finally Tanner nodded towards the twenty four year old cop. "As you wish," She plastered on a smile again, her voice still sugary and fake.

Spencer relaxed her grip on Toby's hand but didn't let go. She laced their fingers together, giving him a squeeze.

She realized that she was no longer holding his hand to stop him from leaving, but because she needed moral support. She didn't like to admit it aloud-she doubted she ever had-but being around cops put her in a panic, after all that happened in her formative years.

She wondered if Toby knew that. If he could tell she hated cops by principle, if he could tell they scared her to death, gave her chills and made her heart beat faster or if he saw her disdain to the uniform as her turning her nose up to the force, as lesser people.

"And that's only because being with a cop isn't good enough for you!"

She realized he definitely thought the latter.

"Toby," Lorenzo addressed, looking up from his notepad. "What is your relationship to Spencer Hastings?"

The dark haired man's tone was patronizing again, like he already knew the answer here and it would discredit Toby's value to sit in on the interview and Spencer had the sudden urge to punch him. People who took swipes at Toby were people she wanted to see in pain.

Lorenzo had been Toby's friend for years. At the time of the breakup, they still were pretty close. The now detective was more than aware that the couple had broken up and more than likely, Toby's relationship with Yvonne Phillips. He was asking to prove a point to Toby, that he had no business inside this room.

That's why Toby's reaction took her by surprise. "I'm her boyfriend," The twenty four year old stated, like it was obvious. He held up their entwined hands for half a second to demonstrate.

But the declaration was more than to prove a point. There was something protective brewing under his tone and Spencer wondered what exactly was between the two men that she was in the dark about.

Nonetheless, she smiled proudly at her police officer, as he'd finally put to rest a question that had been brewing inside her since she'd woken up inside the hospital. What were they? Where did they stand?

She supposed she already knew. If his constant presence didn't answer it for her, his declaration of love earlier should have. Still, she was grateful to be able to put all insecurities to rest.

Her insecurities could simmer down but she still had plenty of inquiries. Even apart from the night in question, even speaking exclusively romantic, she had gaps in her understanding.

When and how did Yvonne and Toby break up? How did Toby end up being allowed in her hospital room, when no one else besides her family could get in? How did Toby jump from "I'm gonna make this up to you, Yvonne" to calling it quits and sitting Virgil at his first love's bedside? How did they jump from "I had a good teacher" to declaring their love once again?

These questions were all zooming around the back of her brain, as she was still being interrogated by a detective and lieutenant that weren't her biggest fans.

She felt Toby kiss the back of her hand and she gave him another squeeze.

"Now I understand you have slight amnesia," Tanner started out, her voice gaining an edge that was supposed to be gentle but seemed to Spencer rather conciliating. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Spencer wracked her brain, realizing only now that she hadn't asked herself this question. Why hadn't she? She knew she had been overwhelmed-slight understatement-but isn't this an obvious question? Shouldn't this be the first thing you think about?

"Uh," The brunette looked at her lap, panic seeping into her veins like a drug being inserted in her IV.

"Hey," Toby said quietly, smoothing back her hair, before leaning forward to press his lips to her cheek. "Don't stress yourself out," He whispered in her ear. "Just relax. It's all fine."

She nodded quickly, trying to appear at ease. "I guess, going to bed the night before…" She finally answered, her voice more unsure than she liked.

"The night you were kidnapped out of your bed?" Lorenzo asked, cocking an eyebrow. Spencer hesitated again, looking at Toby even though he couldn't help. "Do you remember the day before the attack?" Lorenzo probed.

"No?" She answered, like a question.

Get it together, she scolded herself. You did nothing wrong. Don't let these small town cops intimidate you.

But it was so hard when you're lying in a hospital, your entire life spinning out of control.

She cleared her throat, willing herself to buck up. "No, I don't," She answered firmly. "I don't remember the day before the kidnapping."

Lorenzo and Tanner both analyzed her facial expressions before nodding and moving onto the next question.

Spencer couldn't help but notice she wasn't being treated like a kidnap victim found inside an abandoned building. Maybe the thought wouldn't have occurred to her if not for the dollhouse. She never thought she'd see the day she'd get anything useful out of those horrific three and a half weeks but she knew what it was like to have the cops look at you like the victim instead of the tormentor. This was distinctly different.

"So the last thing you remember is going to bed Sunday night," Tanner said as a statement before directing to Lorenzo, "She has amnesia of nearly forty eight hours prior to the attack."

When put like that, so point blank, it chilled her.

"What is your relationship to Sydney Driscoll?" The older woman asked.

The question caught Spencer off guard. "What?"

"How would you describe your relationship to Sydney Driscoll?"

Suspicious, she thought to herself but didn't voice it. It didn't sound like a good answer and she was getting the feeling she was being asked more than she realized.

"We didn't really know each other," Spencer finally answered.

Tanner's eyes flashed to Lorenzo. "Didn't?"

Past tense. The twenty three year old flushed, despite not totally understanding what about using the past tense was so wrong. "We never had much of a relationship and… during the end of my senior year, I guess she just fell off my radar?"

Tanner nodded before looking-much less obvious than Lorenzo-down at her notes. "What about Noel Kahn?" She asked, her voice still laced with false pleasantries and Spencer had to fight to urge to kick her off the bed.

"What about Noel Kahn?"

"W-Are you guys friends?'' Tanner inquired.

Not how she'd describe it.

"Not in the classical sense," Spencer, to her credit, answered very steadily, this time keeping her head.

"What do you mean by that?" The woman's voice was actually insulting when heard enough. Spencer wondered how Toby learned at her feet and didn't lose his marbles.

The lobbyist pursed her lips for a moment. "We haven't spoken in years. And when we were in high school we only spent time together when we had to. But we ran in similar groups and had mutual friends."

Both detectives seemed to accept that answer. "Are you friends with Lucas Gottesman?"

Spencer narrowed her eyes. "More or less," She answered dispassionately. "Why are you asking me about people I knew in school?" She asked, her voice once again strong and now with a new, sharp edge.

Tanner shrugged and shook her head, clear denial.

Don't let the suspect assume you think they're anything but a routine interview.

Page 98.

When suspect grows defensive, stay calm and make them feel unsure about your opinion of them. When they're confused, they'll make mistakes.

Page 103.

"We're just collecting facts, to start with," Tanner assured, a smile that didn't hit her eyes appearing and dissolving before anyone could register it.

The phrases routine, collection of evidence, facts and gathering information are your best tools when speaking with a suspicious and/or defensive subject.

Page 110, Chapter 5 review.

The idea that they were seeing her as something other than confused was terrifying to her, like admitting your greatest fear and having it invalidated. When you talk about things that petrify you, people are supposed to believe you. This was like déjà vu back to high school, a complete carbon copy rerun of her hellish formative years and Spencer started to feel nauseous.

She refused to look at Toby, knowing he'd see just how rattled she was. She didn't know if he'd just sit there and give her silent support or if he'd try to intervene in the interview. Either way, she didn't want to find out. She didn't need three people making her feel like she was under a microscope, even unintentionally. He had the best of intentions, always, but there were times when Spencer wasn't so grateful that he could see right through her. There were perks to being with guys who didn't know her through and through, that didn't see her heart every time they looked in her eyes.

She could lie them.

"How well did you know Kenna Greenbrook?" Lorenzo asked now, his turn to press questions into her brain.

"Who?" She asked, narrowing her eyes, not even keeping her irritation out of her voice.

"She was a patient at Radley during your stay," The inexperienced detective informed, offhandedly. "What about Maddie Coffman?"

Spencer looked between him and Tanner blankly. "I don't know who either of them are."

"Do you remember Krystal Loot?" The dark haired guy asked next.

"No."

"What about Eddie Lamb?" Lorenzo asked next, this time with more infliction.

Spencer was once again, blindsided by the question. "Eddie Lamb?" She repeated incredulously. "What does he have to do with this? What do any of these people have-"

Before she could finish her sentence a voice rang through her ear.

"Get down, now!" A strong hand was pressing on her back, holding her down to the ground, underneath their much larger body, her back to their chest. The gesture wasn't threatening in the least. The exact opposite. It was protective, sheltering, defending. They were shielding her. They weren't her enemy, they were her ally. They were covering her at their own expense. "When I say run, run and do not look back, Spencer."

The gesture wasn't real either, she realized, as she snapped out of it and took in her surroundings. The white walls, the papery sheets, the smell of disinfectant, the beeping of the machines around her, the three cops that were all looking at her like they were contemplating sending her to the hospital's Psych Ward.

"Spencer," Toby squeezed her hand, bringing her back to reality. "Babe? What is it?"

The brunette shook her head, unable to grasp completely what just happened. She felt the way she did when she tried to see underwater. Everything was blurry and fleeting and nothing felt real.

"I'm fine," She blinked hard three times and took a deep, exaggerated breath.

"Should we call the doctor?" Lorenzo asked Toby. Tanner's eyes were on the sergeant as well, instead of the girl in the hospital bed.

"I said," Spencer projected louder but she'd lost her confidence. "I'm fine."

Both detectives looked at her for three silent seconds before glancing at each other and moving on.

"You've been made aware that your friends and family informed us that -A is back?" Tanner asked, segueing into a new topic.

"Not -A," Spencer corrected, automatically. "It's someone new. Charlotte's dead."

Tanner didn't seem to register her answer at all.

"How has this -A threatened you?"

She processed the question for a second, eying Toby in confusion. "You mean, how have they communicated? Same as always. Through texts."

Tanner almost looked like she wanted to smile, like she knew the answer on a pop quiz that Spencer had just answered incorrectly. "We searched both your phone and your friends' phones. There have been no -A messages that we can find."

Once again, she was caught off guard. Evidently so was Toby, as she heard him make a choking noise from his place to her right. "What?" He hissed but for some reason, it made perfect sense to Spencer.

Of course -A would delete their messages, same as Charlotte had. You'd never leave a trail behind you. Anyone with common sense would know that. Cover your tracks. That way, all the girls' hands were tied. How could they ask for help when no one could believe them without proof?

"Of course," Spencer breathed aloud.

"What was that?" Tanner leaned in.

"-A deleted all the messages, just like Charlotte did when Hanna was arrested. It's their way of making it so we could never tell. We can't prove it so we'll have to keep our mouths shut," She didn't know why she was explaining this to someone who probably would rather chew on rocks than help her but it exploded out of her. The desperate little girl inside that still held a shred of hope that maybe, after all she'd been through and all this town had witnessed, maybe they'd believe she was telling the truth.

And with one sentence that hope shriveled.

"That's convenient," Tanner noted evenly, her eyes studying Spencer's face for a few seconds longer than necessary.

Feeling like someone had just kicked her hard in the chest, moisture filled up in her eyes. Spencer snapped her head in Toby's direction, her stress evident on her face. He met her eyes with his own pain filled orbs, and moved his hand to rub her arm, soothingly.

"Have you ever shot a gun?" Lorenzo asked.

Too frazzled to really process the question, Spencer just looked at him.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Toby snapped.

"It's a simple one," Lorenzo defended.

"No, it's a gross over-generalization. Nearly everyone has shot a gun at some point in their life," The sandy brunette argued. "Be more specific."

"Did you take firearm lessons during your freshman year of college?" The male detective redirected, patronizingly, at the girl in the bed.

"Yes," She admitted, quietly, still holding Toby's hand, feeling completely powerless.

"Did you buy a gun that same year?"

She squeezed his hand hard. "Yes."

"She wanted to feel safe," Toby defended adamantly. "She was put through hell for two years straight and then two months later, thrown into the world. She didn't know how to protect herself. She made a logical choice. An understandable choice, for someone who had gone through the complete hell she had."

"And she shared all this with you?" Tanner pressed, almost excited by the young cop's outburst. "For the record, you were made aware of all this?"

"For the record, I encouraged it."

"What happened to the gun?" Lorenzo tried to push the focus back on Spencer to speak.

She shrugged, trying to appear cool though she was still completely shell-shocked. "I sold it two weeks after buying it."

"To whom?"

"My roommate's boyfriend's friend. He didn't go to school with us."

"And did you cooperate in accordance to the appropriate Firearm Safety Laws?" Detective Calderon inquired, looking down at his notes once again.

Spencer's breathing hitched. "What?"

"Did you make sure that the person who bought the gun from you wasn't a convicted felon, someone with a history of domestic violence or mentally compromised?"

She hesitated before answering. "I assumed my roommate would have told me if he wasn't safe." The chocolate haired girl adverted her eyes, aware that her justification was as weak as a twig.

Tanner moved on, clearly uninterested in Lorenzo's line of questioning. "How much did you sell it for?"

The bruised, cut up girl shrugged. This was a topic she had been unprepared to ever talk about. It was one she had tried as hard as she could to forget. She could almost feel the shame same as if it were yesterday, embarrassed by her own fear, as if she was failing because, even after all she'd been through, she was scared of a piece of steel. "My roommate sold it to him for me. I just gave her the gun and got the money."

"You don't know how much you got for it?" Tanner pushed, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer swallowed hard, trying to keep her panic at bay. "I think like, fifty?" She wasn't sure. She had told her roommate, Riley, she just wanted it gone and once it was, she'd shoved the money into her purse without even counting it.

She realized only now how bad that sounded. How no one would believe Spencer Hastings didn't meticulously count everything or that she'd ever submit control to someone else. But holding the gun in her hands had chilled her to the bone. She was petrified of it. She didn't care what it took, she wanted it gone.

"How much did you pay for it?" The younger detective asked, snapping her once again, back to reality.

The twenty three year old's eyes flashed to Toby's. He mouthed the price at her, calmly. "Five fifty."

"Five hundred and fifty dollars?" Lorenzo clarified.

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "You sold it for an eleventh of what you paid for it?" Tanner asked, taken aback.

Spencer nodded again, feeling embarrassed, as Toby gave her hand another kiss.

"And I'm assuming you were very involved in this, since she looked at you for the price," The older female noted.

"I researched where and took her to buy it on one of my visits down to see her," Toby answered, completely straight-forward.

Spencer was actually impressed by how well Toby was keeping his cool through this. She knew in her head she shouldn't be beating herself up, since she was the one with amnesia in the hospital bed but even so, it was eerie that he could hold up so well under such intense scrutiny while she was cracking.

Tanner nodded. "And why were you so desperate to sell it?"

"I was scared," She tried not to cringe at her own words. "I was scared of it after a while."

The lieutenant leaned in closer to the girl, placing a hand on her leg. "Were you scared of yourself around a weapon?"

Spencer blanched in shock at how blatantly she asked but before she could ever recover enough to respond, Toby was standing. "Okay, that's enough. Get out," He ordered through clenched teeth.

Tanner stood too. "Officer Cavanaugh-"

"I said, get the fuck out of her hospital room."

Even Tanner, the seasoned cop, was caught off guard by Toby's reaction. "Spencer's boyfriend cannot end the interview," Lorenzo stated, refusing to be intimidated by an inferior officer.

Toby didn't say another word to either of the cops. Instead, he stood up, not dropping Spencer's hand inside his, and slammed his finger down on the help button.

"Is there a problem, Miss Hastings?" A bright female voice said, immediately.

"I think the cops in here are disturbing Spencer," Toby noted, his eyes meeting the two detectives defiantly.

Tanner stood up from her seat on the edge of Spencer's hospital bed. "I take it you're not coming back to work anytime soon, Cavanaugh?" She asked, her voice frosty.

He narrowed his eyes. "Last I checked, I was on indefinite suspension."

He was? How did he get suspended? Why did he get suspended?

Despite her confusion, Spencer couldn't help but be impressed by how assertively Toby was handling himself. The boy she'd known five years ago would have cowered the second Tanner or any superior even faintly challenged him. Seeing him, secure and firm, the way he always should have been, honestly turned her on a little.

Toby brought Spencer's hand to his mouth once more as unkind footsteps stormed down the hallway, into the room, too angry to be any medical professionals.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Veronica's voice boomed as she threw her purse down in her usual chair. "You were interviewing my daughter, without proper representation?"

Tanner gestured to Toby. "A sergeant was present the entire time."

"And you deemed him unfit to end the interview when you tried to coerce Spencer," Toby shot back.

Peter, who was shadowed by a doctor and a nurse, blocked both detectives from leaving. "Let's talk out in the hall." There was no room for argument in the lawyer's voice.

Both Tanner and Lorenzo followed the older man. Instantly upon their departure, Spencer let out a huge breath that sounded like a sob. Toby sat down on the edge of her bed, cradling her head in his hands. "Spence-"

"They think I did it!" She cried. "I can't even remember and-"

"Shhh-"

"They think I hurt all those people!" The names flashed through her mind, names that no one informed her of, names she hadn't even thought to ask about. Noel, Lucas, Sydney, Eddie Lamb. And names she'd never even heard of.

"Calm down," He whispered, smoothing her hair back.

"I didn't do it! I can't even remember-"

"I know," He swore. "I know, babe."

The doctor was saying something to Veronica but everything besides Toby was blurry, like they were covered by a dirty glass wall. There was a beeping of the heart monitor and the sound of her mom's voice and fingers running through her hair and a nurse speaking and someone writing with a ballpoint pen and it was all too much.

Toby placed a kiss on her forehead, then one on her temple. "Breathe," He commanded.

"I can't handle this," She whispered anxiously before she turned her fear into anger, like she was so good at. "Why can't I handle this?"

"You need to stop working yourself up," Her boyfriend stated firmly. "Spencer, take a breath."

There was a dip in the other side of her bed. "Honey," Her mother's voice rang calmly, her long fingers moving to push her hair out of her face. "You need to calm down."

"Just sedate me, alright?" She caved, metaphorically throwing her hands up. "I changed my mind. I want to be sedated."

Veronica shook her head. "No, we're not erasing the progress you've made over a couple of moronic cops."

"I don't want to be awake anymore."

Toby caught her off-guard, climbing onto the bed to sit opposite her mother. He, without a word, folded her into his arms. "Breathe," He ordered calmly, taking a deep breath in and letting it out, his chest against her's as to demonstrate the point.

She sighed and laid against him, allowing her body to naturally pick up his breathing pattern. She, much to her own dismay, felt her face grow wet with new tears as her panic subsided.

Instead of moving to lie back, she buried her face deeper into his shirt, hoping to hide it. She knew she couldn't though and found confirmation of this when his fingers ran through her hair, massaging her scalp, one of his key comfort tactics.

"I'm such a mess," She admitted, through her heavy waterworks. "I'm a fucking disaster."

Toby responded only by rocking her back and forth and clutching her tighter. His lips kissed away the tears off one side of her face, slowly working their way back to her ear. "You're my perfect disaster. And I wouldn't change a thing about you," He whispered.

The words meant little in the grand scheme of things but they worked to soothe her in that moment. It was the feeling of someone articulating out loud, exactly what you wished inside your head to hear. Not disputing the statement itself but somehow making it infinitely better. The sloppy grin that took up residence on her face lifted a weight off her chest and she found the strength to lay back.

"Hand me my water, please," She requested softly. She scanned the room as he bent down to get the plastic water bottle off the ground. Her mother, she noted, taking the liquid from Toby, had disappeared. Not surprising, she supposed, as her parents seemed to trust Toby with her emotional needs more than they trusted themselves. They always had too, since she was seventeen.

As she took gulps of it, he touched her face, tenderly. He kept his fingers there, stroking her tear-stricken face for minutes on end, as she tried to pull herself together, feeling like a glass vase that had been cracked and repaired with super glue. You can hope it holds but it'll never be the same.

When she could breathe easy and her face was no longer wet, he trailed his hand down to touch her leg, squeezing it slightly. She waited for him to speak, still taking big gulps of water.

"I'm sorry," He finally said, his eyes miserable.

She nearly spit out her water. "What?"

"I should have kicked Tanner and Lorenzo out the second they-"

"It wouldn't have made a difference," She disputed.

"I should have done a better job of fielding away unnecessary questions," He insisted, contritely. "I let them get inside your head."

She nearly laughed, her chest still slightly aching from her roller-coaster of heavy emotions. "I let them get inside my head, Toby. It was my fault."

He gave her a half smile, before dropping his gaze again, introspective. "Do you remember why I became a cop?"

Spencer scrunched up her face. "To protect me."

How on earth could she forget that? No one else had ever done anything for her like that. No one else had ever loved her like that.

"And I failed," He admitted, his own tears falling now. "I completely failed-"

"Toby, don't say that!" She exclaimed, leaning up in her hospital bed.

"It's true," He continued, holding firm to his own remorse. "You felt rejected, you were pushed to other men for comfort, then you were arrested and kidnapped and tortured-"

"That was Charlotte-"

"Spencer," He chimed, giving her a long, forlorn look that she could barely even understand. "I originally got this job to protect you and, even five years later, all I ever do is fail you, over and over again."

"But that isn't true-"

"But it is," He argued. "All I want to do is make your life easier and all I do is make it difficult." Her chest ached again but now for entirely different reasons. The way his voice broke and he could barely look her in the eye cut into her even deeper than anything the cops had done.

Sometimes loving someone so much was a weakness. You hurt when they hurt. They had the fantastic ability to break your heart more efficiently than a hammer to the chest. Even in the strongest moments, their pain could effortlessly rip you to pieces. All you wanted to do is make it better and yet, sometimes it was just impossible.

She knew they both felt that way. Their lives had been overwhelmed by tragedies that neither of them could prevent. Sometimes it felt like the universe was working against them.

But sometimes it felt like the universe gave them each other so they could have the strength to overcome their tragedies. So they could survive, move on and rebuild.

"What are you talking about?" She asked gently, cupping the side of his face. She forced him to look at her. "You are the most wonderful person I know. Look at all you've done for me. You cuddled up to your tormentor for the slim chance it would help me, you joined the -A team for no other reason other than protect me, you flew across the world to try and get information for me and you literally gave up your entire life to end my nightmare." The words brought tears back to her eyes. "And I was so ungrateful for that for so long. I treated you like a traitor. I shut you out. I cheated on you. And you did nothing but love me unconditionally and I can never repay you for that," She whispered, completely choked up by her own words.

They both fell silent for a long time before he finally turned his head to kiss the palm that rested on his cheek. "I love you, Spencer."

"I love you too," She whispered and in that instant she needed his lips on her's, she needed to thread her fingers through his hair, and taste their spit mingled together.

So that's exactly what she did.