Good afternoon, all! I hope this very first day in August is finding you well. It's not so much finding me well- I caught the summer cold and all- but it's fine. I'm finally off so I get to sit on the couch and do nothing for two days. Woo! Okay, enough of my whining. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this crazy journey. This is the penultimate chapter- we've got only one left after this and this story is complete. I'm ready for it to end, not going to lie. It took a lot out of me.
Anyway, please enjoy and thank you in advance if you review. If you're a musical fan, I dare you not to sing the quote at the top of the chapter. :P It was in the book too, guys, I swear. I read that damn thing cover to cover, unfortunately. Okay, sorry, so many delirious ramblings today. I'm on a lot of DayQuil, I apologize LOL. Thank you and I'll see you next time! :D
Nine
"Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise." – Victor Hugo, "Les Misérables"
Somehow, word had gotten out to the press, and soon, their homecoming is all over the news, as is his death.
Flashing cameras and the incessant clicking of the shutters welcome them back to Rosewood and await them at the steps of the hospital. Eager young reporters push their cameras up against the windows of the squad cars and Toby frowns, pulling Spencer closer, tighter against him, and shielding her from view. She had enjoyed freedom, so far; in the tiny backseat away from the world, with the soft rainfall against the thick windows, nestled in Toby's arms, she had actually felt some semblance of normalcy. She felt safe. But freedom comes with a price; the moment the car stops, it vibrates and thuds with bodies as they collide, stumbling forward, pushing one another out of the way so as to be the first one to catch a glimpse of the infamous missing girls. Spencer is feeling about a million different things at once, but ready to leave the sanctuary of this car is certainly not one of them.
"We'll go quickly, okay?" Toby offers and she nods rapidly, her muddled mind swimming. "You don't have to answer any of their questions. You don't even have to look at them."
He reaches for the door handle and she asks, "Toby? Are my parents here?"
"I would imagine they are." Toby confirms. "They've been coming to the station everyday since you've been gone. And I'm sure the chief's alerted them by now. They know we're coming here."
Again, she nods, feeling like her mind is a sponge, soaking up all this information she's been deprived of. "What day is it?"
"Wednesday." He smiles, albeit a bit sadly. "It's Wednesday the twenty-third."
"Of May?" Spencer asks and he nods. "So we've been down there for…"
"Nearly six weeks." Toby finishes her thought. "Yeah."
She sits on this a moment, processing. The officers in the front of the vehicle step out, circle the car and tap on the glass, making Spencer jump. She wonders if they've ever dealt with a victim of a kidnapping before. They open her door and suddenly the flashes grow brighter, the voices louder, as they ask, "Miss Hastings? Are you ready?"
Her voice seeming to have crawled back into its cage, she nods, but not before turning to Toby and asking, quietly, "Stay close to me?"
"Always."
They surround her the moment her feet touch the ground. She glances up once and it's a mistake; flashes explode in her vision like fireworks on the fourth of July. Never has she had so much unwanted attention; never has she ever thought she'd grow tired of hearing her own name. She grows weary on the fourth step and she cannot breathe; all the bodies, all the shouts, all the photographs are suffocating her, and even though there's an officer on either side of her, in front leading the way and behind, she still feels exposed. She feels naked for all the world to see, like each and every one of these eyes is preying upon her sallow skin, her straggly unwashed hair, her bloodied and bruised face. In moments, they step into the hospital, the sliding doors sealing them away from the outside world, and the noise quiets just a tad, but this doesn't bring Spencer much peace. She's exhausted from the whole experience and she's so hungry her stomach aches with agony, but she's also not sure she could stomach a single bite of food, because she can't get the smell or the sight of Alison's decaying body out of her nose and mind.
The hospital smells too clean, too pure, and even though a part of her would like to eat a six-course meal, another part of her feels like she could vomit at any moment.
They bring her into a private room they've sequestered off the side of triage and she is the last to arrive; the other three girls huddle around one another in the center of the room, unmoving. The nurses in the ER assess them and even though none of them exude any life-threatening injuries, they're assigned a yellow tag- urgent. Toby gets called away a moment later and he looks at war with himself over whether or not to answer. She tries to give him her best everything's fine look, but she's sure, in her six weeks of torture and despair, that it's lost all its power. "I'll be right back, I promise. Are you going to be okay?"
She nods. "Go. I'll be here."
When he does, Spencer steps forward and embraces Emily first and then Hanna. "Thank God. Thank God you guys are alright."
"We never would have been if they hadn't found us." Emily shakes her head. "We would've been his next victims."
"Where's everyone else?" Spencer asks, glancing around the empty room, her eyes lingering a bit on Aria, who sits in a chair by the window, her face blank. "Jason, Paige, Caleb?"
"They wouldn't let them ride in the cars with us." Hanna purses her lips. "They came back in the van. Did Toby get to ride with you?"
"Yeah."
"Lucky."
Again, Spencer glances over her shoulder at Aria, and lowers her voice a bit to ask, "What's going on with her?"
"I don't know." Emily shrugs. "She hasn't said a word since we left. She just… stares."
"Yeah and I mean I know she loved him once, but she doesn't love him now." Hanna fills in. "And after all the shit he did? Yeah, he's dead, but… I guess I thought she wouldn't care as much as she does."
"I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments," Aria says suddenly, her voice monotone. "Prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art."
All three sets of eyes snap to hers. Emily asks, "Aria? Are you okay?"
"That's what he said. That's what he kept repeating." Aria says. "I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art."
"What?" Hanna exclaims. "That makes no sense. He obviously spent too much time underground torturing teenagers."
"No, wait, that sounds way too familiar." Spencer bites her lip, contemplative. "Where do I know that from?"
"He opened the door to my room. He took off his mask and he said, I guess we don't really need this anymore, do we?" Aria continues. "He told me that the police were here, that it was over, and that if we left now, we could still get away. He said he had a gun; that he'd shoot every last one of the cops until we were free."
"Aria-"
"He asked me if I still loved him, if I was upset because of what he did to you guys, if I'd run away with him so we could start over." Aria goes on. "I asked him if he killed Mona, if he killed Alison, and if he was going to kill me if I told him no, too."
The girls step closer, intrigued, and Aria quakes and shivers, but her voice remains even, emotionless. "He pulled me up, he pressed the gun to my head. It was cold; I can still feel it. He walked me down the hall and told me how much he loved me, how much he wished he could figure out a way to make things right, and how sorry he was for what he was doing and what he was about to do. And then, we were in the great room, and there were officers there with guns and masks and they tried to get him to lower his gun and let me go but he wouldn't. And a few shots were fired and I don't know who did it but they didn't have a clean shot; I could see that. I was in their way. He made sure of it."
"The gunshots." Spencer nods. "I heard them as I was leaving. It was you?"
"And then the officers started shouting and I couldn't hear anything they were saying because he was whispering in my ear." Aria says. "All kinds of terrible things about you guys and Alison and me. And then he started repeating it over and over; I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. Over and over again and I didn't know what he was saying or what it meant but each time he said it, he pressed the gun harder against my temple and I was so sure I was going to die. I was so sure I was going to be next. And the officers couldn't do anything because each time they tried, each time they stepped closer or fired off a shot, he'd cock the gun and brandish it into my temple and tell them I was dead."
"Aria-"
"And then he told me that he was sorry, that he loved me, that he would never forgive himself for all the pain he's caused." Aria concludes. "And he said, I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita."
"Lolita," Spencer exclaims in recognition. "I knew I'd heard it before. It's the last few lines of the book."
"He let go of me, then. There was a shot and the next thing I knew, there were two body bags instead of one." Aria sighs heavily. "I closed my eyes. I didn't see it happen. I didn't open them again until I was outside, until I felt the rain and smelled the wet grass and heard Jason's voice. And I don't really know what to do with that. I don't know what to do with him."
Without a word, the others encircle Aria, arms around her in an embrace, and don't quite know what to tell her. There is no clear answer; their significant others had done some pretty ridiculous, pretty stupid, pretty messed up things too, in the past, but none quite to this caliber. They hadn't hurt anyone, they hadn't held anyone hostage, they hadn't committed a single murder. It makes Spencer ache for her friend; this is likely something that will isolate her from her friends for the rest of their lives. But she hopes Aria will see that she is not to blame for this; that she, just like the rest of them, is a victim of a terrible circumstance, a predator searching for viable, vulnerable prey. She doesn't speak a word, she doesn't shed a tear, she doesn't move a muscle, but Spencer, Hanna and Emily hold onto her, lock her into a powerful hug, until at last, she stops trembling.
The door bursts open, suddenly, and a disgruntled nurse can be heard shouting, "Ma'am, you cannot go in there! You are not authorized to-"
"I will go wherever I damn well please! I know you're hiding my daughter back here!" Veronica's voice comes next and the moment she steps into the room, all the anger she's previously held dissipates. "Spencer…"
"Mom," Spencer replies automatically and the air deflates from her lungs like a helium balloon. "Oh my god."
From the doorway, the parents flood in and soon, each one of the girls is reunited with their families. Hugs are doled out by the dozen, kisses by the thousand, and the tears flowing left and right are not solely from the women's eyes. Spencer clings to her mother like a lifeline, barely registering the fact that her father and sister are also there, Melissa sobbing dramatically and Peter speaking all kinds of legalese that isn't soothing to anyone, as per the usual. Over her father's shoulder, she can see Ashley Marin and Hanna, bawling at different degrees of hysteria, Ella, Byron and Mike Montgomery, trying desperately to get a hundred different questions out at once despite the fact that Aria is blubbering too hard to answer any of them, and Wayne and Pam Fields, surrounding Emily like a fortress that even the toughest armies would be senseless to try and breach. Spencer pulls away from the hug her father has offered and turns, wrapping herself in her mother's embrace once more as Veronica holds her just as tightly, hastily wiping the tear slipping down her cheek before anyone can see.
But Spencer sees. And this small action makes her ache with longing for her boyfriend.
One by one, the girls are removed from triage and admitted. The nurses bring Spencer a wheelchair and only then does she realize how faint she's feeling, how out of breath and out of shape she is after so many weeks lying on the floor, how the room is spinning out of control and she has a splitting headache and she's pretty sure she's going to collapse without it. They begin to push her down the hallway, her parents on either side of her and Melissa behind, and hesitantly, Spencer glances over her shoulder. He's working. He's busy. She knows. But she'd feel a hell of a whole lot better if he was right here beside her. The nurse informs them that she'll be conducting a physical examination to determine the extent of her injuries and then offers Spencer the comfort of having one of her family members accompany her through this journey. Spencer glances at each of her parents and her sister before hastily shaking her head, much to her father's very visible relief and her mother's mild disappointment. She doesn't see where having them witness this would be any source of comfort to her; in fact, more likely than not, they would only hinder the practice. She'd rather do this the way she's done everything else- on her own.
"I'm sorry- I'll need you to remove your clothes and most likely, you won't be getting them back." The nurse, a kind, older woman with wispy hair, informs her once the door has shut behind them. "The police want to test the fibers for DNA."
They're not my clothes. You can burn them for all I care, Spencer wants to tell her, but it's no use. There's no way for her to explain Ezra's dire need to play dollhouse that won't make her seem like the raging lunatic. The nurse seems to take her silence as hesitancy and then apologizes a second time. "I'm so sorry. Honey, I wouldn't want to take my clothes off in front of strangers, either; especially not after what you've just been through. My name is Ruth. I've been working here for almost thirty years and, actually, I have granddaughter your age; she goes to your school. I've been following this case since that poor girl went missing two years ago. It really hit close to home and I'm so sorry this happened to you- to all of you. I'm sure this is the first time you've had to go through any examination of this kind, so I'll try to make it as quick and as painless as I can, okay?"
Spencer nods and when Ruth waits expectantly, she begins to peel off her clothing, layer by layer. First to go is the pair of dark washed jeans, spattered with blood, followed by her underwear and that argyle sweater she hopes to never see again, still smelling of damp earth and decaying flesh and vomit. She slips her bra off last and drops it into the plastic bag Ruth is holding open for her with gloved hands and then she glances down at her pale, bruised skin, shivering. Goose bumps arise on her bare skin as Ruth informs her to sit upon the examination table for further inspection. "There. First part's over and the next part is easy. I'm going to take your vitals and I'm going to feel around to be sure you don't have any fractured or broken bones or internal bleeding, okay?"
Again, Spencer nods. She's not sure what else to do. She follows directions; she coughs and turns her head when directed, lies back when instructed and doesn't even flinch when Ruth sweeps over a particularly tender spot over her left eye. A cold metal stethoscope is pressed to her chest and she jumps at the impact, but Ruth is gentle, has excellent bedside manner, and explains everything as she's doing it. She takes Spencer's temperature and blood pressure next before informing her, "Good news is, you don't appear to have any internal bleeding or any bone fractures. Bad news is, you are severely dehydrated and malnourished. A few more days without water and you wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation with me. Did your captor provide you with food or water at all?"
"Not really," Spencer finally speaks and her voice quivers when she does so. "A cup of water each day and very, very little food; sometimes none at all."
Ruth's face grows sympathetic as she asks, "Are you hungry, Spencer?"
And it's a loaded question, really. Her stomach is a vacuous, bottomless pit and she's pretty sure she could eat and eat and never feel full. But on the other hand, any time she allows her mind to touch upon the mere idea of food, she thinks of the maggots and blowflies that had scurried all around the dingy floor, the body they had accidentally stumbled upon that smelled so vile it had burned the skin inside her nose, and the fact that Alison, gone before her time, will never eat again. And at these thoughts, any desire for eating completely leaves her. Sure, she desperately needs food to survive, but she's not sure she could let any pass her lips right now without seeing it again very, very shortly.
Ruth lets this go. She says, "I'm going to take a blood sample to test for any infections. We're almost done, I promise."
"And then what?" Spencer asks, sticking out her arm as Ruth swabs the crook of her elbow with alcohol, the scent oddly comforting. "What happens next?"
"Well… There's one final part to our examination before we move you upstairs to your room." Ruth tells her. "We'll get you on your road to recovery soon enough."
"Will I get to shower?" She then asks, feeling almost hopeful at the thought. "Brush my teeth?"
Ruth frowns. "Of course. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry he denied you those basic rights."
Spencer glances away, her feelings and emotions all over the place, before glancing at her blood slowly being drawn into the vial in Ruth's hand. "Do you know if the police are still here?"
"They are. I imagine they'll be here until the moment you and your friends are released." Ruth says. "They'll bring you in for questioning, I'm told, but not until you and your friends are in a better state. For now, they'll just have to make do with standing by and making sure that all of you are safe."
At this, Spencer glances up. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you've all been put under 24-hour surveillance." Ruth explains. "Which, if you ask me, is too little, too late. The damage is already done. But what do I know?"
Spencer chews on her lip, contemplative, thinking only of Toby. In fact, her thoughts are so consumed by him, Spencer completely misses Ruth as she tapes a cotton ball to her elbow and pulls out a kit full of even more evidence bags and swabs. Her heart begins to slam against her ribcage, her blood races with adrenaline instantly and suddenly, she feels nauseous. She knows exactly what this means. Ruth looks so sympathetic, so profoundly sorry, but yet, still professional, as she asks, "Have you ever had this kind of testing performed on you before?"
Rapidly, Spencer shakes her head and can feel the tears stinging the backs of her eyes. "No."
"Good. I was hoping you'd say that." Ruth exhales heavily. "I wish it wasn't necessary, but given the nature of your kidnapping and your prolonged exposure to violence paired with the significant evidence of sexual abuse on the body that was found in the same location you were… The police requested it. I'm so sorry."
Again, she tries to nod, to push through her pain and misery, but her voice comes out as a squeak. "It's okay."
"I'll move quickly but thoroughly." Ruth assures her. "And I'll try to make this as painless as I can."
She holds it together for about five seconds, maybe ten. Tears spill over her cheeks while Ruth swabs every orifice, combs her hair, and scrapes beneath her nails. She weeps openly and Ruth does nothing to quiet her, allows her the moment she needs to break down, and Spencer's sure she's seen this before. It's now, it's right now, that she realizes just how close she came to losing her life. She'd forced herself, even in the darkest moments of starvation and the emptiness that had followed upon finding Alison's body, to stay alert, to stay determined and to stay strong in order to somehow find her way out of that hellhole. She hadn't allowed herself even a second to think about the possibility of never getting out, of suffocating down there, of starving to death or being electrocuted or bashed over the head with a brick as he'd killed Alison. She wouldn't let her mind go there and so it never did. But now, sitting here as this kind nurse combs her body for evidence of abuse, Spencer realizes that just hours ago, she had been on death's door.
By some miracle, someone had granted her a second chance.
"I'm so sorry." Ruth tells her the moment she's finished, handing her a hospital gown as Spencer hastily pulls it on, shielding her battered, malnourished body from sight. "We're all finished, now. Why don't we get you upstairs so you can rest?"
Spencer nods and wipes at her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, before asking, "Can you do me a favor?"
"Anything, honey."
"There's an officer here- Toby Cavanaugh- and I know he's probably busy, but if you see him, could you tell him what room I'll be in?"
Ruth looks hesitant and Spencer can feel fresh tears start to burn in her eyes. "Spencer, we're only allowed to give that kind of information out to family members. He can visit you during regular visiting hours, if you'd like, between-"
"But…" Spencer cuts her off and then falters a bit, unsure of what to say. She glances at her lap and squeezes her fingers together in order to keep the tears from falling. "Please. He is my family."
She softens and says, "I'll see what I can do."
Gingerly, she steps down off of the table and studiously ignores the bags of evidence on the cart beside her. The door opens again and all eyes are on her once more; Peter looks as though he's going to be sick, Veronica is pacing the floor but stops dead at the sight of her daughter and Melissa has silent tears pouring down her face and begins to ask a million questions at once. A second nurse appears at Spencer's side, guides her into the wheelchair and takes her into the elevator as Ruth rolls the cart full of evidence out of the room, stopping quickly to squeeze Spencer's hand and promise that she's truly on the mend, now. Spencer hopes it's true. In mere minutes, they arrive and never has a hospital bed looked more inviting than in this very moment. The nurse sets up her IV and arterial line before explaining some kind of medical mumbo jumbo that makes Spencer's head spin. He tells her he'll be back to check on her every hour on the hour, to get some rest, that she's lucky. Her family tells her they're so relieved she's home, that they're going to sue the town until the perpetrator is brought to justice, that they're going to be here, right here, when she wakes up.
Spencer feels like she's underwater. Her eyelids go heavy, her limbs slacken, and she falls into a strangely dreamless sleep.
The next time he sees her, she's hooked to a few different machines, a tiny, too-skinny thing nearly swallowed whole by her hospital bed, and she's fast asleep.
He breathes a sigh of relief at this, but also has the lingering feeling that one of those needles in her hand had provided her with some sort of sedative, because given what she's seen and her previous history with anxiety, Toby's pretty sure there's no way she had fallen asleep on her own without issue. Her parents and sister are at her bedside and Toby watches from the doorway for a moment, unsure or perhaps unwilling to disturb the family unit. His mind is still reeling with everything his former coworkers had just informed him of anyway; he's not sure he could possibly sort through all the details and still be able to form a sentence. But they must feel eyes upon them; shortly after his arrival, Melissa glances up and smiles, asking him to join them and as he does, Veronica greets him with a hug, Peter with a shake of the hand.
Hours pass and Spencer sleeps. As the evening wanes into night, Melissa yawns about five thousand times before announcing she's going home and will return in the morning. She instructs each of the other members in the room to send Spencer her love should she awaken again. It doesn't take long for Peter and Veronica, in that order, to follow; the former decides he has a very important visit to make to the Rosewood Police Department and the latter claims she has court in the morning, but will make an appearance later tomorrow afternoon. It doesn't deter Toby in the slightest; to be honest, he'd actually been quite surprised at how long they'd stayed. He yawns the slightest bit, pulls his chair closer to Spencer's bedside and settles in, preparing to stay the night. When her attending nurse comes in a little after midnight to check on her and eyes him strangely, Toby stands his ground and prepares to flash his badge… until he realizes he'd dropped said badge at Tanner's feet about a week earlier.
Luckily for him, the nurse says nothing and the next thing Toby knows, warm rays of sunshine spill into the room and it's a brand new day.
He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he must've; his watch chimes with the new hour- it's 9 a.m.- and his neck aches from the awkward sleeping position. Instantly, his free hand flocks to his sore muscles, the other still enclosed even now, hours later, around Spencer's. He glances at her now and notices she's still sound asleep, breathing evenly. She looks so peaceful; it makes him almost dread the moment she awakens and all the shit from yesterday comes back to her. It makes his heart clench with pain and he promises not to let anyone near this girl for the rest of her life. The same nurse from the night before comes in and blinks at Toby, noting he's still here, and Toby dares him to try something. He's not about to leave her for any reason; they would quite literally have to pry him from her bedside with the Jaws of Life. Luckily for him, it doesn't appear the nurse has any interest in that; he checks her vitals, adjusts a dosage of something Toby can't make out, and then makes a note of this change on her clipboard.
"How's she doing?" Toby dares to ask and the nurse shrugs.
"The same. She has a minor viral infection; it's what the antibiotics are for." The nurse says. "The IV will replace some of her lost nutrients, but we'll have to get solid food into her when she wakes up. Not something I want to rush, though; sleep is the body's best way of recovering."
Nodding, Toby asks, "Is that why she's slept almost twelve hours?"
"That, and the mild sedative we issued her yesterday." The nurse goes on. "She should be coming out of the throes of that in just a bit. Whether or not she stays asleep after that is all up to her."
He leaves the couple alone and Toby gently slips his hand from Spencer's, standing and heading over to the window, staring into the day as it burns brightly before him. He doesn't know what's going to happen next. He has no idea what state of mind Spencer's going to be in when she awakens. He has no idea when she'll ever be released from this place and he has no idea how he's going to help her try and get back into a normal life. What is a normal life after all she's seen? How can anything ever be normal again after she's been rescued from an underground bunker where she was beaten and deprived of food and water and had witnessed unspeakable things? Just the thought makes him sick to his stomach. He doesn't know how he'll ever be able to make things okay or how he'll ever be any source of comfort to her at all.
But he'll do everything in his power; of that, he is certain.
"Toby?"
He whirls around suddenly and finds that Spencer is wide awake, pushing back the blankets and attempting to get out of bed, to get to him. He crosses the room in two long strides and is easily thwarting her efforts, halting her ministrations. "Hey, hey, where do you think you're going? Who told you that you could get out of bed?"
"Fine, I'll stay in bed, just- hold me, please. Please." Spencer pleads as he tucks the blankets more firmly around her. He sinks onto the bed beside her and his arms are around her within an instant.
"It's okay." He tells her over and over, stroking her hair, kissing her temple, as she continues to take deep, shuddering breaths against him. "It's okay."
"No, it's not."
"Okay, well it's going to be okay."
"How do you know?"
"Because you've already gotten through the worst part of it." Toby tells her, pulling away just a tad to look her in the eye. "You've gone through hell and back. You came out the other side. And yeah, recovery is probably going to be hell. But all hell ends, eventually. You're a survivor. You're a badass. And it can only get better from here."
She drinks in his words, every single one of them, before pulling him back into an embrace and professing, "Thank you. I love you so much."
"I love you too. More than anything." He replies. "And I'll be with you every step of the way. I promise. You won't have to do any of this alone."
"You have no idea how much that means to me."
"I'll protect you with everything I have." Toby promises and at her smirk, he adds, "Seriously! No one will be able to even look at you funny without having to deal with me."
"Well, I guess there are benefits to having a boyfriend who's a cop." Spencer muses, letting her arms drop from around him but keeping a tight hold on both of his hands. "Who would've thought?"
Toby hesitates. "Ex-cop."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I kind of quit last week." Toby admits and Spencer's eyes go wide.
"Without me knowing?" Spencer exclaims. "I didn't get a chance to get you a cake or plan a party."
He chuckles a bit. "I don't need a party. And I definitely don't need Tanner and her bullshit."
"What happened?" Spencer asks, leaning back against the pillows, yawning. "I mean, you never liked it, but you were doing so well."
"Not according to Tanner." Toby shakes his head. "Apparently, in her words, I would shit on my oath if it meant keeping you safe. I didn't appreciate her lack of decorum, so… I turned in my badge."
"That was completely unprofessional of her." She shakes her head and then bites her lip, eyeing him almost shyly. "But she has a point."
"Hey, I only took this job to protect you; I told you that from the start." Toby shrugs. "I'm not going to choose. I'm not going to let her force me into picking my job over your safety. That's not going to happen."
"It already did." Spencer says, squeezing his hand. "You did choose."
He smiles a bit. "Yeah. I guess I did."
After a beat, Spencer asks, "So you were saying on the way back… something about our names being cleared? Cleared from what? What did we do?"
"Nothing." Toby replies. "But there was no convincing Tanner of that. She and her team of idiots were sure that you and the girls were responsible for murdering both Mona and Alison and that the reason for your disappearance was that you were on the run, not that you were kidnapped."
"Great." Spencer frowns. "And everyone believed this?"
"Well, not everyone." Toby tells her. "She removed me from the case after I suggested the truth and I quit shortly thereafter. A friend of mine helped get me into contact with the SWAT team, Caleb, Jason and Paige wanted to help, and… Well, here you are."
"Here we are." Spencer echoes. "A bit of a disaster, but at least we're alive, right? The same can't be said for…"
She stops abruptly, glancing at their intertwined hands. Toby's brow furrows in concern as he asks, "Please tell me you weren't the one to find Alison's body."
"I would love to tell you that." Spencer says, her gaze still cast downward. "But we promised we wouldn't lie to each other anymore, remember?"
Toby's heart clenches painfully. "Oh, Spencer…"
"I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy." She says and her voice is hollow and eerie; it sends a chill down Toby's spine. "Not even him. And he's the one who did it."
"I wanted him to burn in hell for this." Toby shakes his head. "I wanted him to rot in prison for the rest of his pathetic life. And instead-"
"Instead he got the easy way out, too." Spencer finishes and Toby frowns, but nods. "But at least I know it's really over, now. I won't be getting any mysterious or anonymous texts from some prison cell, or something. He's gone… so –A's gone, too."
Toby nods, rubbing her shoulder in sympathy, and she smiles warily at him, so much exhaustion in her eyes despite the many hours she's just slept. He wonders how long it'll take before the horrors will leave the forefront of her mind, before the pain and bruises will heal, before her color will come back and the meat will return to her bones. They sit like this for a moment, regarding one another, and then there's a knock on the door and a doctor Toby hasn't yet seen has entered, a smile on his face despite the heavy seriousness in his dark eyes. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I saw that you were awake, Spencer, and I didn't want to miss the opportunity."
"No, that's alright." Spencer shakes her head and then asks, "You're my doctor?"
"One of them," The man nods. "Dr. Quinlan. Pleased to see officially meet you. How are you feeling?"
"Groggy." She shrugs. "A bit sore. Still kind of starving."
"Right," Dr. Quinlan chuckles. "Well, that IV in your arm is pumping in some nice liquid nourishment, but why don't we supplement that with some solid food as well, okay?"
"Okay."
"Actually, the reason I'm here, believe it or not, isn't to take your lunch order," Dr. Quinlan jokes and Spencer's face doesn't change. "I and a few of my team members have been assigned to assess your physical condition and to bring you back to health as quickly as possible, but the kind of trauma you've gone through does a number on your mental health, as well. Many of my colleagues from the psych ward have also taken a liking to you and your wellbeing."
"The psych ward?" Spencer echoes and even from his spot beside her, Toby can see panic in her eyes, can hear her heart beating wildly against her chest. "I don't… I don't think-"
"Spencer, you were held in captivity for five and a half, nearly six, weeks." The doctor points out as if the two in the room haven't been agonizing over this for the better half of their conversation. "You witnessed things even some professionals can't handle. We're going to need to see where your head's at, in layman's terms."
"I don't need it." Spencer disagrees. "I can't- I won't go back there."
Dr. Quinlan, at this, reaches for her medical records and nods. "Ah. I see. About a year ago, you spent some time at our sister institution, Radley Sanitarium. It says here you were under a seventy-two hour observation and psychiatric care. Mind if I ask why?"
"I had a mental breakdown." She says, her voice so small Toby can barely hear her despite his proximity, and she doesn't dare look at him. "But I've recovered since then and I don't need-"
"Actually," Dr. Quinlan interrupts again, his brow knitting with concern. "Considering what you've seen and your history of mental health problems, I find it incumbent that you receive psychiatric care while you're here and the sooner, the better."
"Dr. Quinlan, please," She shakes her head, growing hysterical. "Please, I can't go back there. I can't."
"Isn't there another way?" Toby asks, desperate for some relief, for a break in his girlfriend's misery. "Can't someone visit her here or-"
"Pardon my interruption, but you both seem to be misunderstanding me." Dr. Quinlan cuts them off. "I never mentioned readmitting you into Radley, Spencer. I hardly think that things are at that point. You seem to remember what happened to you, you have a sense of yourself most of the patients in there do not, and we were having a pretty levelheaded conversation before I brought up something that upset you. And for that, I apologize."
She relaxes the tiniest bit. "It's okay."
"I do not think I'll be sending you to the psych ward and I definitely won't be sending you to Radley." Dr. Quinlan continues. "But it also isn't my place to judge your mental health and you will be receiving a psychiatric evaluation within the next few minutes or so."
"An evaluation?" Spencer asks. "What does that entail?"
"Well, a mental health professional is going to talk to you about the things you've experienced while you were being held." Dr. Quinlan explains. "It's routine in a kidnapping case. And honestly Spencer, the more you talk, the better sense the doctor will get of where you are and the better chance you have of staying out of a psychiatric institution."
Anxiety colors Spencer's face and Toby squeezes both of her hands in his, asking, "You said this is happening now?"
"Within the next few minutes, yes." Dr. Quinlan confirms. "We're just waiting for our doctor to arrive."
"Right here? In this room?" Spencer wonders and when the doctor nods, she pleads, "Can Toby stay? Please? I don't want to do this alone."
Sympathy washes over Dr. Quinlan's face and Toby can tell before he says it that he's about to say no. "Unfortunately not. This evaluation will go in your medical records and will therefore be completely confidential. No third parties allowed; not even me."
Spencer does not appear placated in the slightest. Toby turns to her, locking her eyes with his, and says, "It's okay. It's going to be fine. Just tell this doctor what you can; only what you feel comfortable saying. I'll be right outside the door the whole time."
She nods but implores, "You're not going to leave?"
"My whole world is sitting right here in this bed," Toby tells her and she smiles- genuinely, this time. "Where else would I go?"
Smirking, Spencer tells him, "Your whole world is being so clingy right now."
"You're not being clingy. You're just sticking with what you know; who you trust. After what you've been through, I think that's okay. It's going to take a while for you to get that trust back." Toby says and watches the tension ease from her shoulders. "This is the first step. Talking about what you went through with someone who can help you process it is going to make a world of difference. You don't have to say anything you aren't ready for, but get what you can off your chest and out of your mind so you can breathe again. And then, you'll be able to start to heal."
She reaches forward and captures his lips with hers before burying her face in his neck, his arms coming around her automatically. "I wouldn't have survived any of this without you. You're my angel, Toby Cavanaugh. You're my saving grace."
He holds her a little tighter, pressing another kiss to her hair. "Right back at you."
Another knock on the door causes the lovers to loosen their hold on one another and when they glance at their visitor, their eyes widen in shock and recognition. Dr. Anne Sullivan stands, beaming, in the doorway, and says, "It's a small world, isn't it?"
Toby can tell Spencer's at a loss for words, so he says, "I'll be right outside if you need me, but I don't think you will. You're in good hands."
He lets them be, heading out of the room as Spencer sits a little straighter and Dr. Sullivan takes the occupied chair at her side, asking a few warm up questions to catch up with her former patient. Toby closes the door behind him, stepping into the hall that's a bustle with activity, and comes to stand at the window, able to watch from afar to be sure this process of delving into her psyche doesn't cause her too much pain. She'll heal. She's the strongest person he knows, the most resilient, easily, by far, and he knows she'll get through this. It'll be difficult for them both- her, to relive these horrors and him, watching her suffer through them- but he knows nothing can break them, anyway. They're solid, steady, unyielding; an indestructible unit that not even the world's worst circumstances can shake. He knows this for a fact, for they've just encountered them. He wouldn't wish these past six weeks of hell on even his worst enemy. He'd like to go home, with Spencer, and take a very long nap to recover from all of this agony.
Footsteps on the shiny linoleum distract him for only a moment and when he looks up, Detective Tanner is coming towards him in slow, steady strides. Toby frowns and turns his attention back to Spencer, who's wringing her hands as she speaks, eyes cast downward. "What could you possibly want?"
"I came to check on the girls." Tanner speaks evenly and Toby wonders where she gets the nerve. "I wanted to see if Spencer was okay."
"Well, no thanks to you, she's safe and alive." Toby tells her. "A couple more days and she wouldn't have been."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Tanner frowns. "Really, I am. The best possible outcome was always to have as little young blood on our hands as possible."
"Right."
"And," Tanner inhales a deep breath. "I want to apologize to you, too, Toby for casting aspersions when I shouldn't have. I was out of line, it was unprofessional, and it was uncalled for. I will learn to keep a better check on my emotions in the field."
"Thanks." Toby shrugs, his gaze unchanging. "I appreciate that."
"It took a lot of courage to go against authority, Cavanaugh." Tanner continues. "You went with your gut and in the end, it paid off. You were right; you were right about this whole thing. If we had half the brains and bravery you have on the force, we'd be in for a treat. You have all the makings of a chief, I believe."
At this, Toby turns to face her. "What are you saying?"
"Here. Take it." Tanner says, holding out the badge he'd dropped at her feet a week prior. "You've earned it after all you went through."
And at first, he does. He slips the cool metal between his fingers, turns it over and over, reads the engraved motto: to serve and protect. Then, he shakes his head and deposits it back into her open palm. "No."
Tanner balks. "No?"
"I meant what I said." Toby tells her. "I'm done. I'm pretty sure a career in law enforcement isn't for me."
Tanner frowns. "But with proper training-"
"From you?" Toby asks. "No thank you. I have too much integrity for that."
At this, Tanner's eyes narrow and her fingers close over the badge, her fist shoving roughly into her pocket. She turns indignantly and stalks away, leaving a very satisfied Toby in her wake. He exhales, smiling, and turns his attention back on the room only to find Spencer leaning back against the pillows and Dr. Sullivan standing and heading for the door. Are they finished? Has he really been out here that long? When the door opens, Toby asks, anxiously, "Is she okay?"
"No. I'm afraid not." Dr. Sullivan shakes her head, yet there is a small smile tugging at her lips. "But she will be. She'll get through this."
Toby nods. "Of course she will."
"She'll avoid residential care, but she's not getting off scot-free; none of them are." Dr. Sullivan informs him. "We're going to meet weekly. We've already set up our schedule."
Toby says, "Thank you."
He reenters the room and returns to his chair at Spencer's bedside, immediately linking hands with hers. Toby sends her an inquisitive glance, unsure of what is running through her mind, but she merely shakes her hand and lifts their intertwined fingers to press a kiss to the back of his hand. All is well, at least for now. Soon enough, her parents and sister return and they each take turns embracing Spencer, asking after her wellbeing, and bitching at the nurse who comes in every so often to tell them the patient cannot have more than two visitors at a time. It seems like things are beginning to fall back into place, to settle after so much activity, and Toby watches Spencer like a hawk the whole afternoon and starts to see the girl he'd fallen in love with instead of the harrowed, haunted shell of her he'd seen the day prior. It's evening and they'd just gotten Spencer to stomach some solid food when Melissa announces it, jumping as if she's been shocked and reaching into her purse, digging.
"I almost forgot," She says, producing a small plastic bag from the bowels of her purse just moments later. "I stopped by the police department to see if they had recovered any of your items from where you'd been held and they released all of them to me. No need to thank me; it was on my way."
Spencer takes the bag from her sister, carefully undoing the plastic and dumping all of its contents onto the bed before her. Out spills her wallet, her car keys, her cell phone, and Veronica asks, "Honey, are these the things you had on you when you were…kidnapped?"
"Yeah." Spencer answers shortly, completely disregarding everything but the cell phone, which she inspects at every angle but doesn't turn on.
"Well, at least now you'll be able to start to get your life back." Peter retorts and Spencer glances at him a moment but says nothing.
She pauses, stares hard at the cell phone in her hand and then reels back her hand. It's left her grasp at such an impressive velocity and before anyone can question it, the cell phone crashes into the opposing wall and explodes into a thousand pieces all over the ground.
"What the hell?" Melissa exclaims. "What the hell are you doing?"
But Toby understands. And he smiles as Spencer says, "I'm getting my life back."
And she smiles, too.
They're released from the hospital the morning of Alison's memorial service. Jason had planned it this way so they all could attend.
Spencer takes one look at herself in the bathroom mirror of her hospital room, under the dim orange lighting, and frowns. It's not a dress she would've chosen herself, but then again, she hadn't. Her mother had brought it this morning from the depths of her closet and though she's grateful to not have to go into her bedroom herself, this dress wouldn't have been her first choice. She supposes her mother had chosen it because it was black, but it hangs off of her now, unflattering. A couple of awful hospital meals hadn't completely brought the meat back to her bones (even though Toby had been sneaking her food any chance he got) and, strangely enough, this makes her almost glad they had missed out on their senior prom. The dress she'd spent hours with Hanna looking for would never have fit now, anyway.
Painstakingly, she does her makeup for the first time in months. Her eyeliner smudges and she pokes herself in the eye no less than five times with the mascara wand, but eventually she believes her appearance to be at least satisfactory. The heels her mother had brought her feel unfamiliar and a tad uncomfortable as she slips them on her feet, but then again, she'd been barefoot for almost two months; any shoe, at this point, would feel foreign to her. Her family's waiting for her the moment she steps out of the bathroom, release papers already signed, and before she can even ask, her mother tells her they'd sent Toby home to shower and change and that he'd meet them at the church. Spencer feels almost guilty for that; surely, by now, they must have realized she'd much rather be with him than with them, but they've never commented. She wonders if it's because they know that it's their fault.
A warm breeze greets them the moment they step out of the hospital doors and Spencer closes her eyes, breathing in the soft, soothing scent of freedom.
It's wholesome and liberating. Freedom smells like fresh air and sunshine, like humidity rolling off of hot pavement, like freshly mown grass and orchids and sweet honey; the magnificent scent of early summer.
The church bells are ringing by the time they arrive and it still sends a shiver down her spine even now to think of the night she'd almost lost her life here. She leaves her parents somewhere in the crowd and instead finds the girls; they started this together and they'll finish it together, too. As a unit, they make their way to the front of the church, each taking a turn hugging Jason, who looks so weary and so ready for all of this to be over. There's no casket, no photograph of Alison and no flowers, this time; Jason and Kenneth DiLaurentis had, upon the completion of the autopsy and DNA testing, sealed Alison's body in the mausoleum across town and therefore, today they are sending Alison away with a prayer for peace and the hope that she is truly at rest now. Spencer is, honestly, surprised by how many people show up to finally bid farewell to their fallen friend. Each pew is packed and there are people lined up along the walls, standing room only. She wonders how many of these people had come because they felt guilty for celebrating her disappearance. She wonders how many of these people had actually known Alison at all.
At the end, Spencer finally finds Toby in the crowd and wraps her arms around him in an embrace. He tucks her more firmly against him and whispers, "She can finally rest, now. She's home."
Spencer nods, unable to speak. After all, that is all Alison had wanted.
They head home after the congregation lets out and Spencer isn't sure what to feel, now. Perhaps she's supposed to feel relief; she's returning home after such a long time away. Perhaps she's supposed to feel excited; it's the home she's grown up in, has countless memories in, the one she's lived in her entire life. She doesn't feel either of these things. In fact, the closer they grow to home, the more and more anxious Spencer gets and by the time the car's in park, Toby turns to look at her and his expression changes. Her mouth has gone dry, but she nods when he asks if she's okay and they climb out of the truck, walk hand in hand into the house. Melissa's purchased a cake and is slipping it out of the box and onto a plate in celebration, as if she's merely been away at summer camp instead of being held in captivity underground by a murderous sociopath, but Spencer appreciates the sentiment, anyway. It's getting late; Peter suggests ordering Chinese and Veronica invites Toby to stay with them for dinner and he accepts. Spencer, honestly, just wants to change out of these heels and this dress and, though her heart pounds at the thought, she excuses herself upstairs.
It's a mistake.
The second she steps into her bedroom, everything comes flooding back. This is her bed and her closet with her clothes and her desk and her bookshelf with her books and her rocking chair and everything is actually hers, everything is real, but none of it feels real and suddenly she can't breathe, she can't think, because all that floods her mind is the darkness, the wall instead of the open air and view of the DiLaurentis property, the concrete instead of the warm, inviting bed sheets and comfy mattress, and the floor will come alive if she's not careful, burn a searing pain into her skin if she doesn't choose, and she doesn't want to choose but she'll die if she doesn't, and this is her room, this is her actual room, but she can't see past her inner torment, can't hear anything over the sound of the tinny voice, choose one or all will suffer, and the walls are closing in on her and she cannot breathe and tears spill down her cheeks and then a stiff breeze from the open window blows the bedroom door shut and now she's alone again and she's trapped again and there is no way of getting out.
She doesn't know how long she sits here, trembling on the floor, but soon there's a knock on her door and Toby calls from the hallway, "Hey, you okay in there? The food's here; your mom sent me up to check on you."
Scrambling to her feet, Spencer crosses the room and yanks the door open with great force, barely able to make out the concern in Toby's eyes before she launches herself into his arms. "I can't stay here. I can't stay here. I can't. I can't be in that room. I can't be alone. I can't."
"What happened?" Toby asks, and slowly, Spencer feels the iron grip on her lungs begin to lessen. "You're having a panic attack. What's going on?"
"I can't be in that room." She repeats, shaking her head. "I can't stay here. I'll never be able to sleep here tonight."
Realization must dawn upon him, for he nods and murmurs, "The bunker. Right. I didn't even think-"
"Can we go to your place?" She asks. "Please. I don't want to sleep by myself and I definitely can't be here."
"Spence," He laments, looking mournful. "Your parents would never allow that."
"I can talk to them." She shakes her head. "I can ask. You never know."
"We do know." Toby sighs. "As lenient as they always have been with you, regardless of circumstance, you and I both know they're not about to give the okay to a co-ed sleepover. Especially not your father."
Spencer pulls away, frowning, arms crossed over her chest indignantly. "It's happened dozens of times without them even knowing."
"Yeah but bringing that up is definitely not the way to convince them to let it happen tonight." He smirks but she doesn't crack a smile. "Look, let's go downstairs. Let's get some food into you. And then we can work something out. You can maybe sleep on the couch, right? It's a big, open space; you wouldn't feel suffocated and it isn't your bedroom."
She glances at the floor, hating how vulnerable her voice sounds to her own ears, how weak she feels in this very moment. "I'll still be alone."
"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep." He suggests. "They can't be opposed to that, can they?"
"I don't know. They're opposed to everything."
"We'll talk to them. I'll even promise to keep my hands to myself."
"Where's the fun in that?"
He grins and this time, she manages a small smile in return as they make their way downstairs together. He hasn't left her side since the moment he'd discovered her in that bunker and for this, she's eternally grateful. But being back here in this house leaves her with a deep seated anxious feeling, an uneasiness that plagues her mind, and she knows she'll never be able to get past it, therapy be damned. She knows for a fact, even though her parents agree a bit hesitantly to let Toby stay until she's fallen asleep, that she won't actually be getting any sleep tonight. Every time she closes her eyes, the horrors haunt her, transporting her to that underground lair where she had unearthed the deepest, darkest secrets she could have ever hoped to find. Night falls, her parents and sister retreat to their own bedrooms and Spencer makes herself as comfortable as she can on the couch in the living room, Toby sitting beside her in an armchair.
And she does not sleep.
She loses track of how many times she's counted the dips and curves of the pattern on their vaulted ceiling. The grandfather clock chimes with the hour and Toby rises quietly, reaching for his car keys. Spencer asks, "Can we go to the loft now?"
He sighs and she can tell she's caught him off guard. "I thought you were asleep."
"I told you. I told all of you." Spencer sits, stretching, and pushes back the blankets, stepping onto the floor. "I can't sleep alone. And I definitely can't sleep here. This is where it all happened."
Toby looks hesitant for just a moment before nodding her along. "Come on. Let's get you out of here before they wake up for work."
Heart racing with something other than fear for once, Spencer slips shoes onto her feet and joins him at the doorway, locking it behind her. They're halfway to the truck when the barn door opens and Melissa, in a bathrobe, steps out asking, "Where do you think you're going at this time of night?"
Spencer frowns. "What are you doing awake?"
"Dad put me on Spencer watch. He said you were a flight risk." Melissa replies, smirking. "He wasn't wrong, I see."
"So you're here to, what?" Spencer asks, irritated. "Tell on me? Drag me back to the house by my hair?"
"What are we, eight? We're not kids anymore. I'm not about to tattle." Melissa scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You're an adult. You can make your own decisions. If you need to run off with your boyfriend in the middle of the night, be my guest. But at least text someone and tell them where you're going. You were just missing for six weeks, Spencer. We don't need that stress again."
"I don't have a phone." Spencer replies. "We're just going to the loft. Really. I'm not about to hop a flight to Mexico."
Melissa nods and turns back to the barn, yawning. "I'll pass the message along."
The moment they're free, they head for the truck, drive across town and climb the stairs to Toby's loft. Instantly, Spencer feels one hundred percent better and without hesitation, she makes a beeline for the bedroom, stripping down to her underwear and crawling into his bed. She pulls her body flush against his after he does the same and closes her eyes. Home. This is what home feels like. Teasingly, Toby drops a kiss to her crown and asks, "This what you wanted?"
She nods against him before replying, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For everything." Spencer tells him because she cannot narrow it down. Not now, perhaps not ever. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess."
"You aren't a mess."
"No, I am. In more ways than one." Spencer replies quietly. "But I'm working on it. I'm trying. I'll get better, I promise."
Toby smiles and presses another kiss to her temple. "I have no doubt about that."
She grins blissfully- she's never been more grateful for a human being in all her life- and his even breathing and rhythmic heartbeat lulls her into unconsciousness.
And they sleep.
