Good evening friends! It is good to be back here on Christmas Eve Eve with the penultimate chapter of this story! Hopefully the day finds you well and you're getting into that Christmas spirit as best you can because it is in two days! Insane, right? It came so fast this year. Anyway, today's chapter throws it back to the days of Grace, Lilly and Henry because ya girl can't let go. I'm sorry if you're sick of them. I might be able to move on, one day.

Today's chapter is themed off of "Silent Night." Thank you for your continued support. I love you all!

all is calm, all is bright

Christmas has always been one of his favorite times of the year but there are three Christmases he's experienced over his lifetime that he wishes he could completely forget.

The first would, without a doubt, be the year before his mother passed away. Christmas had come much too quickly that year and Marion had, despite her condition, decided she would still decorate and cook Christmas dinner as she'd always done. A thirteen-year-old Toby had hovered uselessly in the kitchen, part of him desperate for the Christmas traditions they'd once shared together and the other part hardly daring to believe she was well enough to perform them. They'd baked cookies after unwrapping presents and she'd started the ham before retreating to her bedroom beneath a gloomy cloud, too much activity for her for one afternoon. Toby had, in his own misery, forgotten all about their dinner and when his father had entered and commented on the strong smell of smoke, his eyes had nearly fallen out of their sockets. Their oven had caught on fire, the fire department had been dispatched and the neighbors watched through their windows and whispered behind their hands for weeks. Daniel had grumbled all night about their ruined meal, their ruined day, their ruined Christmas and Toby had tried his hardest to drown out the sounds of his mother's guttural sobbing from down the hall. It hadn't been a merry Christmas at all and Marion had been committed two weeks later.

Coincidentally, the second Christmas he wishes he could forget would be the very next year, two months following his mother's untimely demise. He hadn't been feeling very festive and was still finding himself overcome with grief at random points of the day. But Daniel had all but moved on, for he had a brand new wife and a brand new family and he didn't even mention Marion once. Toby had woken up on Christmas morning to find presents under the tree, but no Christmas cheer in his heart, and instead, he'd remained in his bedroom, trying desperately to wish the sadness away. After what seemed like hours, Toby had gone downstairs to find that his new family was eating Christmas dinner without him and he wished he could be surprised or disappointed or angry, but he wasn't. He wasn't feeling anything, anymore. Instead, he'd pulled on a coat and boots and walked to the mausoleum, deciding to spend Christmas with his mother like he was desperate to all along.

And easily, this Christmas is number three.

It starts off completely and beautifully innocent. The kids are young enough that Christmas is still a huge deal; Grace hasn't completely turned over to the dark side of teenage-hood, at twelve, and is still as excitable and fun as she had been as a little girl, and Lilly and Henry, at six and four, respectively, wake up at the crack of dawn to inspect the gifts Santa had left behind with pure delight. They open presents and eat sticky cinnamon buns as per tradition and stay in their pajamas much longer than they probably ever should. As usual, Toby and Spencer dread the moment they must depart their cozy, loving home for her parents' in Rosewood, but it's Christmas tradition and so they load their car up with their bundled children and head down. They're the first ones to arrive, as they always are, and it never ceases to amaze Toby, honestly. Wren and Melissa live much closer and logistically, it doesn't quite make sense.

"Grandma!" Henry squeals with delight as Veronica opens the door and ushers them inside to shield them from the onslaught of snow.

"Hi Henry!" Veronica beams and scoops him into an embrace. "Oh, it's been too long! You're so big now! You're almost taller than me."

"Nah uh," He shakes his head. "I only grew four inches."

"He's freakishly tall for four, I think," Grace adds, accepting her hug from her grandmother next. "He's like a giant. He's almost taller than Lilly."

"No I'm not!" Henry shrieks. "I'm not a giant!"

"Oh honey," Veronica waves off his concerns. "It's alright. Lilly's always been a little tinier than most girls her age, right? All that NICU time couldn't have helped."

"What's a NICU?" Lilly asks and Spencer pushes hair away from her face, shaking her head.

"Don't worry, baby," Spencer tells her. "You're perfect the way you are."

"Well hello to you too," Veronica purses her lips, bringing her daughter in for a hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mom," Spencer returns. "We beat Melissa again, huh?"

"That you did," Veronica says. "She said she and Wren were having some trouble, but they'll be here as soon as they can."

"Hmm," Spencer bites her lip. "Trouble?"

"Don't start," Veronica warns and smiles brightly when she greets Toby next. "Hi honey, how are you? Doing well?"

"Great. How are you?" He asks and she nods her wellbeing. "Merry Christmas."

"Oh, merry Christmas to you, too, Toby!"

"Is that the Cavanaugh clan I hear?" Peter asks, coming from the dining room and the kids grin at the sight of their grandfather, standing to embrace him. "Well get over here! Give Grandpa a hug!"

They oblige gleefully and Toby watches from the sidelines, feeling rather joyous himself. Peter certainly isn't a perfect grandfather, just as he hadn't been a perfect father either, but he'll always be light years better than Daniel and for some reason, this makes his heart ache. As if his wife senses this, Spencer glances at him and asks, "Everything okay?"

He nods. "Sure."

The children launch into a rousing conversation with him; Henry starts by saying, "Grandpa, I got the coolest helicopter from Santa and it lights up and makes noise and everything!"

"A helicopter? A real one?" Peter wonders and Henry erupts into more giggles than his tiny body can take.

"No! You can't go in there!"

"Are you going to learn to fly by Tuesday?" Peter then asks. "Maybe you can fly us all to the Poconos."

"The Poconos!" Henry cheers instead.

Grace chimes, "Ooh Grandpa, Mom and Dad got me brand new snow boots to wear and they are super cute. Remember last year how mine had the hole in them and my socks got all soggy from the snow?"

"Oh yeah. Good thing you've got the new ones. I don't need my girl getting frostbite," Peter says and to his youngest granddaughter, who's remained quite quiet as usual, he asks, "How about you, Lil? You excited for our family vacation?"

She nods, a small smile on her face, and Peter smirks, shaking his head. "Well, you're so darn quiet, I'd never know."

Spencer sighs and tells Toby, "My parents don't understand our kids like we do."

"Does anyone?" Toby asks her and, at that very moment, receives a text from his own father, which he reads aloud. "Merry Christmas to you, Spencer and the kids. Love, Dad. Wow. I got a 'love' this year."

"Wow, he's really making strides," Spencer smirks. "Although the kids are still just 'the kids'. Wonder if Heather wrote it; she doesn't know Lilly's name, after all."

"Nah, Heather wouldn't write me a day in her life," Toby shakes his head. "I can tell this is from my father because it's lukewarm with just the right amount of apathy."

Spencer's smile falters but before she can comment, the front door of the Hastings' house bursts open and Vivian enters, her visage entirely frantic as she looks behind her and pleads, "Don't ask Mom if she's okay. She's not."

"Thanks for the warning, Viv," Spencer greets her niece, hugging her and planting a kiss against her cheek despite the teenager's protests. "Something you did or your father?"

"I don't know," She shrugs. "She's been screaming at us all morning and she started crying on the way here. She's been like that a lot, lately. Dad keeps saying she's crazy."

Spencer stiffens beside him and Toby places a hand on her shoulder. Not now. "Hi Viv. Merry Christmas."

"Hi Uncle Toby," Vivian sighs and then plops on the couch next to Grace, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Ew, you still have that ridiculous sweater?"

Grace reaches for a carrot on the coffee table full of appetizers, muttering, "You still have that ridiculous attitude?"

Wren comes in next, ruffling Henry's hair and kissing Lilly's crown and airily greeting his mother and sister-in-law before turning to his father and brother-in-law and suggesting, "Peter, Toby. What would you say to a drink, gentlemen?"

Toby is about to reply with a hell no when Melissa enters the house, arms full of presents and platters of food, shutting the door behind her. Icily, she glares at her husband and hisses, "Thanks for the help, dear."

"You said you could handle it, darling," Wren shoots back and Spencer and Toby share a glance, eyes wide.

"I brought chocolates from that shop on 82nd Street. Henry, don't touch the striped ones," Melissa warns her nephew as he eyes the package greedily. "Merry Christmas, everyone."

"Merry Christmas," Spencer replies hesitantly and the rest of the room is silent, watching.

"Honey," Veronica tries. "Are you-"

"Grandma!" Vivian snaps, her face looking eerily similar to her mother's in this moment. "I mean it."

To everyone's surprise, Melissa asks, "Toby? Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Um," He falters for a moment and chances a glance at his wife, who looks just as perplexed as he feels. "Sure."

He follows her through the house until they reach the dining room, out of earshot of the rest of the family members. Feeling incredibly awkward, Toby glances at the ornate table settings and fiddles with the Christmas cloth before asking, "So… What's up?"

"Toby," Melissa sighs. "You're a man, right?"

Toby smirks. "That's what they tell me."

At this, Melissa almost cracks a smile and he's sure she would have had she not been lost in her own anger and misery. "Then can you tell me why men are such unsatisfied, dishonest, untrustworthy, disloyal slugs?"

"Well…" Toby trails off, not quite sure how to grasp this one. "I'm not a hundred percent sure what you're talking about and you and I have never really been close, so you're going to have to walk me through this."

"I'm sorry I dragged you in here," Melissa exhales heavily and sinks into one of the dining chairs. "I don't know why I thought you could help me, but-"

"Hey, I didn't say I couldn't," Toby shrugs and takes the chair opposite her. "What's up?"

"You've been with my sister for how long now?"

"Uh…" He thinks a moment because it's been that long and he doesn't know offhand. "About twenty years."

"Twenty fucking years. Jesus Christ," Melissa shakes her head. "And you've been happy since day one?"

"Completely," Toby confirms. "What's your point?"

"And you haven't once thought about what it would be like if you two weren't together?" Melissa asks. "And if you had dated and married someone else?"

"Well, sure, everyone thinks about that," Toby shrugs. "It's scary to think about where I'd be if Spencer and I hadn't gotten together or what my life would be like without her. I'd be miserable. And our kids… They wouldn't even exist."

"No, I didn't mean it like that." Melissa says. "I mean… In the time that you've been married, you've not once thought about seeing someone else, have you?"

"Oh. Oh." Toby exclaims as the realization dawns on him. "You mean like… Like cheating? Like going behind Spencer's back and having an affair?"

Melissa remains silent, only nods, and Toby can't get his answer out fast enough. "Absolutely not. Not once. I love Spencer so much, I can't imagine… I would never do that to her. I would never even want that. She's it for me. She's always been it."

"Yeah, and you know why? Because you're a good fucking person," Melissa groans. "I knew you were going to say that. I wasn't trying to test you with some big sister shit. I knew you were going to say you haven't even looked at another girl in twenty years because you're still drooling over Spencer and worshipping the fucking ground she walks on."

"I mean, I wouldn't go that far, but yeah," Toby nods. "Yeah, you're exaggerating to make a point."

Melissa says, "If I dragged Wren in here and asked him those same questions, do you know what he would say?"

"Not what I said," Toby says, choosing his words carefully.

"No! Not at all! He'd-" Melissa exclaims and then pauses, calling, "Spencer, I know you're eavesdropping at the door. Twenty some-odd years later and this is still your tactic?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping!" She insists, pushing the dining room door open, her arms full of silverware. "Mom wanted me to set the table."

Melissa purses her lips. "The table's already set."

Spencer bites her lip and says, "Um, right, so I'll just-"

"Just sit the fuck down," Melissa gives in and Spencer sinks into the chair beside Toby. "I think Wren's cheating on me."

Neither Spencer nor Toby make a single movement; they don't even blink. Melissa whines, "Jesus Christ and this isn't even a surprise! Do you already know? Who is it? How long has it been happening? Why haven't you told me?"

"Okay, first of all," Spencer says. "We know literally nothing. This is the first we're hearing of it if it's even true. Second, if he was going to cheat, do you really think he'd tell us about it?"

"And third," Toby adds. "We didn't have much of a reaction because… Well, look at his track record, Melissa."

"But we have a baby," Melissa says. "I mean, she's fourteen, but she's still our baby. How can he do this to her? To us?"

"You don't even know if it's true," Spencer points out. "I'm sorry if it is and I wouldn't put it past him, to be honest, but at least find out the truth first."

Toby asks, "Have you asked him to explain himself?"

"Every time I do we get into this huge fight and…" Melissa trails off. "Honestly, I don't even want to know. If it is true, then how dare he do this to me and to our daughter but if it isn't, then… How dare he make me think he did."

"I wish I could be of more help," Toby frowns. "I'm sorry, I just… I don't have the kind of experience you were hoping for."

"No, you have been helpful, actually," Melissa tells him. "I just wanted to ask your opinion and get your perspective so I know that not all hope is lost when it comes to men."

Spencer says, "I always told you that you could do better."

"I didn't ask for your smugness," Melissa's eyes narrow before turning back to Toby. "I don't have a lot of friends and the ones I do have would publically shame our family if I ever dared to bring this up, which is why I'm asking you for advice. What do you think I should do?"

"Well, hear him out, first and foremost." Toby suggests. "You have to get his side of things. And then once you do, you decide for yourself what to believe."

"It could all just be a big misunderstanding," Spencer shrugs. "Or it could be real. But you need to know for a fact."

"Mommy," Henry pokes his head in, glancing at the three adults, before coming closer and pulling himself into his mother's lap. "My mouth feels all tingly."

"It does?" Spencer asks, pushing his hair out of his eyes in order to inspect his face a bit further. "And why is that? Too much sugar already?"

Henry shakes his head. "Grandma only let me have one cookie."

"Wow. Grandma's laying down the law?" Toby jokes. "That's a first."

"My mouth is really tingly and dry," Henry whines and then coughs once and then twice. "My throat is scratchy."

Spencer looks a bit closer and asks, "What is all over your face?"

"He looks like he's breaking out," Toby comments and leans a bit closer, his own eyes widening. "Spencer, he's covered in hives."

"Oh my god," She exclaims. "Henry, what did you eat?"

"Grandpa gave me a chocolate," Henry says, his voice raspy, and he coughs again. "The ones Aunt Melissa brought."

"Henry!" Melissa shrieks. "Did you eat a striped one? I told you not to touch those!"

"Grandpa gave it to me," He repeats and then says, "My tongue feels funny. It's like it's wearing fuzzy slippers."

"What was in the striped one?" Spencer asks, frantic. "Melissa! What was it?"

"The ones with sprinkles were sea-salt caramels," She replies, her eyes like saucers. "The striped ones were chocolate-covered strawberries."

"Henry!" Toby scolds. "You're allergic to strawberries!"

"I told you already!" Henry whines, tears in his eyes as he coughs twice more. "Grandpa gave it to me!"

"I'll go see if Mom has any Benadryl," Melissa says, scurrying up from her chair and heading off, up the stairs.

"Oh my god," Spencer keeps repeating. "Oh my god."

"Momma," Henry then says, his voice thick. "My tongue feels funny."

"He literally looks like he's been put on Novocain," Toby says. "He's drooling all over the place.

"It's so big!" He rasps, his speech altered greatly and nearly unintelligible. "It's hanging! I'm like a doggie!"

"Oh my god, Henry, please," Spencer shakes her head, still cradling him like an infant. "Just try to breath through your nose, okay?"

"My throat hurts," He whines. "My doggie tongue is in the way."

"Um, his tongue is huge," Toby says. "This is past Benadryl, at this point. I think we need to get him to the hospital."

Spencer glances at her son, who has his tongue in between his thumb and forefinger and has a wry grin on his face. "Mommy! I can lick a big Popsicle now!"

He bursts into hysterical laughter, repeating over and over, "It's too big! It's too big!" Toby and Spencer jump into action, pulling on his coat and their own and struggling to find snow boots while simultaneously eyeing the storm outside. Melissa cries, frantic, "I found Benadryl but it's expired!"

"It's no use!" Spencer replies, twice as frantic. "We're just going to have to go to the hospital!"

"What's going on?" Veronica asks, the rest of the family filtering into the foyer from the family room. "Where are you going?"

"Emergency room," Toby says shortly and immediately, the room is up in arms.

"What? Why?"

"Daddy, I want to go with you!"

"Wait, don't just leave me here!"

"You're going to the ER now? On Christmas?"

"What happened?"

"Henry!" Grace exclaims finally. "What happened to your tongue?"

"I'll lick you with it like a doggie," He giggles. "It's so big!"

He laughs and laughs and then begins to cough, choking a bit, and Spencer pleads, "Henry, please, please stop talking! This is very serious! You just need to focus on breathing!"

"I don't understand," Peter shakes his head. "What happened?"

Spencer whirls around, her eyes slits, her gaze murderous. "What happened? What happened? You tried to poison my son!"

"I did no such thing! Come off it, Spencer, I-"

"You gave him a chocolate-covered strawberry knowing perfectly well that he is allergic to strawberries!" Spencer seethes. "Are you trying to kill him?"

"Spencer, I… I…" Peter shrugs. "I'm sorry. I forgot. I didn't mean to… I just forgot."

"You can't just forget!" She explodes. "How am I supposed to trust you with taking care of him if you can't remember a simple thing that might kill him?"

"Peter, you gave him the strawberry?" Veronica asks. "I have never been more ashamed of you."

"Veronica, I didn't know-"

"We all knew!"

"Daddy," Lilly asks, tears in her eyes. "Is Henry going to be okay?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Toby replies. "We're just going to make a quick trip to the doctor and he'll get some medicine and he'll be okay again. And then we'll come back here, have some Christmas dinner and open some presents like normal. Sound good?"

Hesitantly, she nods and then Grace asks, "Can I come with you?"

"Oh honey, you don't want to sit in the hospital on Christmas," Toby reasons. "Stay here for me? We'll be back as soon as we can."

A touch disappointed, Grace nods, too, and then Henry pipes up, a bit quiet, a bit strangled, "Mommy, I can't breathe."

"We're going. Just hang on, okay? Just try your hardest," Spencer says, stepping out of the door and towards the car. "In through your nose, right? Out through your mouth. Just like the doctor taught you. You're going to be okay."

Toby follows, unlocking the car, and from the house, Wren calls, "Are you sure you don't want me to take a look at him? I'm great with kids!"

The front door swings shut between them.

They drive twenty miles over the speed limit on the snowy roads and fishtail once, but they make it to the hospital in no time. Henry is seen immediately and they give him a shot to clear his airway and one to reduce the swelling, redness and hives, but then, they sit in triage for hours. Henry complains that he's bored in his new slurred speech and a nurse overhears and brings him a couple of Christmas coloring pages to busy himself with as they wait to be seen by a doctor. Toby and Spencer are watching him vigilantly from two plastic waiting chairs beside his bedside and Toby can just feel the tension pouring off of his wife. She's stewing so hard he's surprised she hasn't yet boiled over.

He reaches over and slips a hand into his, saying gently, "He's fine."

"It's Christmas," Spencer says in return. "He's four years old and we're sitting in the emergency room on Christmas. This isn't fair. It's not his fault. He shouldn't be here."

"It's not your fault, either," Toby points out. "It was an accident. It shouldn't have happened but it did and it's something we have to deal with and move on from."

"We were too busy being preoccupied by Melissa's drama," Spencer shakes her head. "And if I had been with him… If I had seen what he was eating-"

"Spencer, you can't put this on yourself," Toby gently chastises. "It's no one's fault."

"It is! It's my father's fault!" Spencer disagrees. "I'll never forgive him for this."

"Spencer-"

"No, come on. He's allergic to, what? Three things?" Spencer reasons. "It's not a long list! How could he forget something like that?"

"It happens," Toby says. "I'm not saying I completely condone what your father did, but it also isn't like he did this on purpose."

Spencer bites her lip and tears come to her eyes. "What if he stopped breathing? What if he choked? I mean, we could've lost him."

"No. Don't even go there."

"He's so tiny and… and…"

"Don't," Toby replies. "He's fine. He's okay."

"Mommy, don't cry," Henry pleads and hands her his finished coloring sheet. "My doggie tongue is gone and I made you this 'cause it's Christmas."

"You did? Thank you, Hen," Spencer smiles, sniffling the tiniest bit. "It's beautiful. You did a great job; you stayed inside the lines and everything."

"Thanks," Henry grins and reaches for a new sheet, saying, "Daddy, I'm gonna make you one now."

"Ooh, thank you. I'm excited to see it," Toby grins, squeezing his wife's hand. "Do you see? He's fine. Now we just have to wait for a doctor to say it so we can get the heck out of here."

"It's almost seven," Spencer says. "I'm sure everyone's eaten by now. I don't have much of an appetite, anyway."

"Me either."

"I do," Henry chimes in. "I want mashed potatoes."

"Well, let's hope Grandma saved you some," Toby says. "It's been a crazy day."

Between the chaos of Wren and Melissa's tumultuous marriage and the part where Henry, you know, almost died, Toby's pretty sure he'd like this Christmas to be banished deep within his memories and never return to the surface. They sit motionless in the hospital for an additional hour before being seen by a doctor, who tells them Henry's fine and should be more careful next time (Spencer's about ready to commit murder because of course they'd known this already, but Toby talks her down and they head back to her parents' house). The children are watching Home Alone on the couch and they all get up to embrace Henry upon his arrival, but the youngster in question is interested in nothing but the food. Toby and Spencer don't have too much of an appetite, but they stomach a few bites before deciding to head on home. Veronica hugs and kisses each of her grandchildren and her daughter and son-in-law and Peter looks sheepish as he apologizes, once more, for nearly killing his only grandson (once again, Spencer looks ready to kill, and Toby ushers her away from the scene before this Christmas grows any more chaotic).

The children had been up since the crack of dawn, filled with excitement and Christmas cheer, and so it doesn't surprise either of their parents when they file, one by one, up to bed. Spencer breaks out the largest, most expensive bottle of wine they own and pours two glasses as Toby comes down the stairs. "I know we were saving this for a special occasion, but today sucked and I need some good quality alcohol in my system right now."

Toby smirks. "Come here."

"Okay, you're right, 'sucked' is going a bit far," Spencer says. "This morning was incredible, but unsurprisingly, everything took a turn the second we got into Rosewood."

"No," Toby tugs on her hand, setting the wine glasses on the coffee table and leading her towards the staircase. "Come here."

She looks almost hesitant, that alcohol calling her name, but she follows anyway, her hand in his. He takes her down the hallway to Henry's room, first, where the little one is tucked in bed, already fast asleep. One of his arms is curled around a stuffed dog and the other is hanging off of the side of the bed, his blankets askew; he sleeps like a wild man. Spencer presses a kiss to his tiny forehead and is about to remark on the cuteness of it all, Toby's sure, but he shakes his head, halting her, and nods towards the hallway. Across the way, they push open Lilly's door and find her curled into the fetal position, still sucking her fingers even now, at six years old, and with hair covering her beautiful face. Her chest rises and falls and they push the hair out of her closed eyes, kissing her goodnight. And finally, they make their way to Grace's room, where the twelve-year-old is fast asleep on her stomach, murmuring something incoherent in her sleep, a habit she's picked up from her mother. They adjust her blankets and kiss her goodnight, too, before gently tiptoeing out and closing the door behind them.

"Holy crap," Spencer whispers. "Have you ever seen anything cuter in your life?"

"I have not," Toby agrees. "Our sleeping babes have always been the most adorable thing I could ever hope to see."

"Despite all the craziness, at least they still had a great Christmas," Spencer says. "And they're all sleeping. Right now. At one time."

"Sleeping kids?" Toby grins. "I'll drink to that."

"I would, too," Spencer points out. "Except you took my alcohol away."

Toby chuckles, bringing her closer, and saying, "Well, if you still had it, I wouldn't be able to do this."

He places a kiss on her lips and says, sincerely, "Merry Christmas, Spencer."

She grins and kisses him again. "Merry Christmas, Toby."

Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace…