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Chapter 7
It was raining. He didn't know when it had started to rain, but as the rain soaked through his clothes and skin he reflected on how it didn't come close to the numbing cold that had encased his heart. Would he ever feel anything again? Anything but pain?
Officer Holbrook had followed after him for a few blocks, but when he saw that he had no intention of acknowledging him he moved on. Which was good. He didn't need witnesses for the breakdown that was sure to follow that experience.
He walked past the road to his and Spencer's spot at Lookout Point, and the first of many sobs slipped from his throat. They'd never again share a private moment overlooking the many monsters of Rosewood.
Even as she walked away from him he followed her. "Spencer, stop."
"Why? So you can criticize my friends some more? Not a chance." She shrugged off his pacifying arm and kept walking toward the road.
"I just-" He swallowed roughly. "I think you need to consider the possibility that -A is someone close to you. I know your loyalty makes it hard, but how else-"
She suddenly whirled around to face him, nearly causing him to run into her in his haste. She shoved at his chest. "Like you, right? Trust me, nothing would hurt me more than the day you turned around in my kitchen."
His face must have shown the guilt that was eating away at his stomach because her face immediately soften. "I'm sorry, Toby." She looked up at him with stubborn tears clinging to her eyelashes. "I didn't mean to bring that up, I just-"
"No," he interrupted. "I'm glad you did. Because we've never really talked about it, have we? I know you can see how sorry I am, but maybe you need to hear it too." He shrugged out of his jacket and took a chance, drawing her closer and wrapping it around her narrow shoulders.
She responded to his touch, leaning into his side. "You don't have-"
He interrupted her again. "I think that I do. Because if I didn't you never would have thought to bring it up just then." He gently tugged her back in the direction of their rock. Once they were settled he pressed his face into her hair. "Ask me what you need to know."
He could feel her shaking and knew that it wasn't from the cold. The hesitation was driving him crazy, but this was about her and what she needed. Because it was about time he atoned for the sins he committed in November. She leaned deeper into him before speaking. "Would you have ever come back? If I hadn't found you... would I still think that you were dead?"
More than anything, he wished he could give her the answer that she wanted to hear. But he wouldn't lie to her, not about this. "I don't know, Spence. It's so much more complicated than that."
"It's really not," she murmured into his neck. "either you would have come back to me or you would have stayed with Mona." She pulled away, and the tears in her eyes. "I was so mad at you. But I also still loved you. And I just- I couldn't make my mind compute that you didn't love me. And then I found your body, and I thought you were- you w-were dead and I just- I can't-"
"I was scared," he readily admitted, his voice taking on a tone of desperation. "I was terrified that she would hurt you if I tried to contact you. And no matter what else you might believe, I did do it for you. I did it so that I could keep you safe, and it may have fail catastrophically, but there was also a chance that it might have worked. And I would have rather you been miserable and safe than with me and in constant danger."
She was quiet for a long time. If it weren't for her soft shaking he might have thought that she fell asleep. "I don't need safety, Toby. I just need you."
He would give anything to fight with her again; to sit with her and hash out in detail their respective mental breakdowns. He would do anything to have her back, because the feeling was mutual. He didn't need safety, happiness or anything else. He just needed Spencer.
The sidewalks were slick, but he wasn't careful. He would welcome a fall. Maybe some cuts and scrapes would take away from the all consuming pain that he felt in his heart. But it was a pointless wish, because nothing could ever hurt this badly. It was an impossibility.
Secretly, he always wondered why Spencer hadn't just taken the helmet off of his body double's head. It would have saved herself a lot of grief and his guilt would have been astronomically lessened. But now he got it. Now he understood. If she didn't see his face there was still doubt. There was still a chance, however small, that he might walk through the door, atoning for his many sins. But if he saw his face there was no coming back from that.
He saw her body. He held it, he kissed it. She was gone. Spencer was gone, and there was no more hope. Spencer always claimed that hope bred eternal misery, but that wasn't true. It would have bred desire, recklessness, and an insatiable desire for the truth. But misery, no? This was misery, and he had no hope. He saw her face, as bruised and marred as it might have been. She was dead.
Suddenly, the street he was walking down hit him with the force of a speeding bus. He shouldn't have come this way. He kept his eyes trained on the ground, determined not to look up and see his loft. The memories that the two of them shared in the tiny space above the Brew were both numerous and irreplaceable. He shouldn't have come this way.
He heard the door open, and he knew that it must have been Spencer. No one else was trusted enough to have earned unlimited access to his private sanctuary. The scrape of the key in the lock was the telltale sign. But still he stared at his computer screen. He needed to just finish typing this and then he could give her his undivided attention. "Did you talk to you dad about Radley? " He asked her distractedly.
"Yeah." And the way she said it told him that there was a whole lot more to the story. He lifted his eyes to meet hers in concern, but first they were caught by the small suitcase by the door. What was going on?
She smirked at his confusion, but he could still see the sadness tucked within the brown of her eyes. "Mind if I stay here for awhile?"
Did she think that there was any possibility of his refusing? Because he would sooner cut an arm off than watch her suffer. But he couldn't say that to her because her mind would find some way to play tricks on her, to tell her that he way lying. She was highly logical, but when it came to her relationships she flipped on the illogical switch and immediately assumed the worst. No, he had to show her.
He crossed the room, prepared to take her into his arms. But she beat him to it, crossing the thresh hold of his apartment and into his ready arms. She was far more emotional than she was letting on. He knew it from the second that she walked through the door, but it was confirmed by the trembling of her arms and the way she tucked her face into his neck. He nodded into her, in case it wasn't obvious. He would do anything for her, but she had to already know that. A little stay at his loft wasn't a hardship at all. In fact, he welcomed a more domesticated version of their current relationship. He only wished that she hadn't had to run away for that to happen.
Run away. That one innocent thought transported him back to a happier time of oblivion and catty harassment from a mentally ill teenage girl, of the butterflies that erupted in his stomach when he slowly reached for her hand, and the elation he felt when she clutched his fingers as tightly as he hung onto her and promised that she would come to him first if she ever felt like running again.
But none of that compared to what he felt right now. She listened. She came to him. She trusted him. God, he loved her. And as he held her in his arms he swore to himself that he would do whatever he could to keep her safe, to end this.
Maybe his biggest regret was keeping -A a secret. Because if he had told, Spencer might have never forgiven him, but that was fine. The Hastings had the resources to protect her. It would have thrown the other girls under the bus; because really could they get anything done without Spencer? She was the brains. It might have made him the world's biggest bastard, but he didn't care. He didn't care what happened to anyone if it meant that Spencer was safe.
Maybe her parents would have sent her away to boarding school. Maine? England? It didn't even matter. They could send her to Siberia, and he would have been alright with it. Maybe she would have road horses. He knew that she loved it, but for as long as he knew her she never mentioned riding. He wasn't sure why, and he had never thought to ask. Maybe she would have joined the field hockey team. Athletics were something she excelled at, and it was good for her to be complemented on something other than her incredible mind. She had no idea just how remarkably unprecedented she was. Maybe she would have made friends that loved her and appreciated everything she did for them. God Hanna, Emily and Aria were incredible right now, but they were also the only ones who could make Spencer feel completely worthless. She expected it from her parents, but when her friends failed her it was a devastating blow. Maybe her life would have been good.
Maybe she would have still been alive.
He could see the Hastings house now, and he saw that everyone was on the lawn. How was he supposed to tell them about this? How was he supposed to let them know how greatly she had suffered? But how could he keep this to himself either? Because it was eating away at his insides like the most corrosive kind of acid. It would literally kill him. Maybe he wanted it to. Because God knew he didn't want to live in a world without her. Maybe it was the only choice.
But he stopped those thoughts, because he knew exactly what Spencer's reaction would be if she heard him thinking them.
Her hand gripped his almost painfully. But it felt good, because he felt sure that no one would ever accept him after learning about what Jenna did to him. He was sure that everyone would see him as dirty as he felt. But Spencer was still there. "I'm sorry," he whispered finally.
"What the hell are you apologizing for?" She asked him, not angrily but not kindly either.
"if I ever thought there was a possibility that I'd find someone like you I would have fought harder. I would have told her no. I would have-" his voice broke. "i would have saved myself for you, and-"
She interrupted him with a kiss. "I love you, Toby. I love you as much right this second as I always have." Her hands framed his face. "What Jenna did was not your fault. Do you understand? It wasn't your fault. She took advantage of you."
"it doesn't matter," he whispered. "I could have stopped her."
She leaned into his chest and shook her head. "No baby, no. It wasn't your fault, sweetheart. I love you. I love you so much."
"I love you too," he whispered. "You're the only thing that saved me to begin with."
"What are you talking about?" She whispered into his neck.
"I was-" he swallowed harshly, having never admitted this to anyone. "I was ready to- to end everything that day you showed up on my porch."
"What-" she started to ask, but she cut herself off as she understood. She wrenched away from him to look into his eyes. "Are you kidding?"
He shook his head miserably. It was finally all out there. She knew his most miserable secrets, and if she still wanted him it would be a miracle.
She whimpered and practically threw herself into his arms, holding him more tightly than he had ever been held. "No, you can't think like that. I'd be lost without you, Toby. You're the one who saves me, every single day. I know you wish you could do more, but you have to see everything that you give me."
He leaned into her, letting her take on more of his weight than he usually would. But it felt so good to know that she still loved him. that she cared.
He walked up to her family, preparing to tell them the news that would destroy their hope. But he had to share. He had to. And then he had to get the girls alone, because he would avenge Spencer's death if it was the last thing that he ever did. She saved him. He couldn't save her, but he would make her death mean something. Her research, the answers she found, they wouldn't be in vain.
