Hi there Spencer Salvawhore! I'm literally sooo flattered that someone recommended this fic & your review was just so lovely. Glad to have you on board!
Sorry about the wait, friends! I hate that this isn't my paid 8-4 job because I'd love to update three times a day if I could. But a guest review from "A" was just scary enough to get me back on here ;)
It wasn't a dream. Not this time…the voices, they were real…and really angry.
"You've gotten awfully sloppy lately. Last night was bad enough, but this? She won't be happy with your latest slip-up. Abduction was not on the agenda."
Spencer suppressed a desolate groan as her senses returned to her in gradual waves. The shrill snag in that voice was only escalating the dull ache that bludgeoned her temples. What had happened to her? She felt like a hunk of road kill at a monster truck rally.
"Yes, because you have no fault in the matter. Forgetting so soon? You were the one who erroneously gave me the green light."
Wren. The accent was a dead giveaway. Oh god, Wren. If the topsy-turvy scrambling in her brain was any indication, she had to surmise that whatever he'd intended for Toby's bloodstream was now spurting through hers instead. How was he same guy who'd treated her to dinner and kissed her on the sidewalk only a few months ago? The chivalrous man who'd once allowed her to sleep off a hangover on his couch was now the one who'd pumped her veins with a venomous chemical. Chalk it up to just one more person she'd completely misjudged from the start.
"Still, you couldn't have diverted her? That pasted-on charm of yours must finally be wearing thin. If those dumb sluts don't trust you anymore, your role is officially obsolete. Maybe it's time you take a step back and let the pros handle this."
She knew that voice too. If only the muddled cobwebs would clear from her mind, she was certain that she'd be able to identify his feminine counterpart as well. Her frazzled recollection of Melissa's drawn-out soliloquy was too obscured in this stupefied condition. Who else was on the bad list?
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Wren's antagonistic inflection was nearly unrecognizable. "I'm not oblivious to the fact that you've been trying to ace me out of this operation for months now."
"And you haven't been doing the same? Wanna tell me how this scrawny bitch found my visitor's pass at Radley? I have more on the line than either one of you and that's because there's an APB out on my name! I wonder how the ball got rolling on that one."
Spencer swallowed severely. CeCe. She was half-unconscious, flat on her back, and helplessly imprisoned in an unknown location with Wren Kingston and CeCe Drake. The arctic spiral of irony didn't escape her. Melissa had divulged so much, but all the information in the world was utterly useless if her anesthetized limbs wouldn't cooperate. She had nothing, no leverage. At least they were jabbering obliviously. It could potentially buy her some recuperation time.
But if her heart didn't slow its ruthless pounding, they'd be sure to hear the sound of it and know she was awake.
An irate scoff spilled from the English doctor. "She found that badge before I could stop her. I wasn't the one who led her into that wing and you know it. If anything, I was doing damage control on your behalf with some asinine story about you and Melissa wanting to help Mona. That's always been the plan, hasn't it? Throw her sister's name into the mix as much as possible? Well that's precisely what I did."
A rigid pause stewed between them. As CeCe's voice chimed back in, it was softer…a bit more distant.
"Don't do that. Don't try to turn me against her. It's just another one of your twisted schemes to reach top-dog status."
With the burden of enormous fatigue, Spencer lifted unenthusiastic eyelids and chanced a peek around the darkened room. One bare bulb swayed in the center, casting gruesome shadows over steel tables and crowded shelves. She was arbitrarily strapped to a discolored gurney and wedged into a grim corner. There was no question as to where she was. Although the average person rarely saw this particular floor, she was more than acquainted with the dingy backdrop of the hospital's archaic basement. If only she had a trio of fake candy stripers as backup and a Hastings plan in full swing.
But no. She was miserably alone and absolutely out of her league.
"…got greedy. Fitz was our ideal decoy—"
Spencer tuned back in as that now-infamous surname leapt out of CeCe's otherwise monotonous diatribe.
"…and if anyone had seen you last night, you'd already be tapped out as the subject of Rosewood PD's newest witch hunt. Going into Cavanaugh's room tonight was unnecessary."
Wren chuckled scathingly. "You don't know how those girls function. She has them ingrained with her scare tactic doctrine. They don't tell the cops anything unless it is wholly unavoidable. Just because my portrait isn't splashed on the evening news doesn't mean I'm in the free and clear."
She. There was a lot of that pronoun flying around this belligerent conversation. It really vexed Spencer's remaining splinter of pride to concede to the accuracy of Wren's statement. Whoever sat at the top of this endless –A pyramid could assuredly count on their mistrust of the local authorities and act accordingly.
"And just because my face is taking up real estate between Wheel of Fortune and primetime TV doesn't mean I'm on my way out of this. I'm the one who lured Fitz in, aren't I? He wanted Ali and that's what I gave him. So now that you've created a new complication, you can also create a new solution."
Melissa's claims were fitting together into an alarming puzzle. CeCe and Wren were working with a third person, a female…and Ezra had been a pawn with his own agenda? "He has some vendetta against Alison and that's why he stayed in Rosewood after graduating from Hollis ."
"Yes, you were the one who lured him in, which also implies that you should have been the one with your hand on his leash last night. The carpenter could have easily seen me before he went down and that's how we've landed in this little conundrum."
CeCe cackled snidely. "Baby Hastings hazes your judgment. You're too arrogant to admit it, but you went overboard this time with your coma conspiracy. We are not in a conundrum. You are. And don't pull that line of bull about Fitz. He's always been under the absurd assumption that I'm the one working for him, remember? Surely you recall that from our bogus powwow on Friday night. You know, the one where I let him do all the talking."
Friday night…Melissa and an unspecified woman assembling in the woods with Wren and another anonymous figure? Insert CeCe at the gazebo and that classified Ezra Fitz as the fourth accomplice.
An emission of frigid air blew in as a new presence made itself known. "What are you two bitching about now? I could hear this catfight all the way from the elevator."
Spencer flinched involuntarily with an upsurge of nausea. Her instincts had been right. All along, it had been her. Alison DiLaurentis hadn't ever been dead. She was much too busy being –A.
That's immortality my darlings.
"Are you sure this is the right move?"
Toby did his best to smother his third exasperated sigh. He understood her reservations. Hell, he had a heaping list of his own uncertainties when it came to this. It wasn't a decision he made flippantly, but there wasn't another option. Not with Spencer's life on the line. "Come on, Em. We don't need to rehash this anymore. I already called her. No turning back."
"But…" her eyes shifted from side to side as she gnawed on her lip. "It just feels wrong."
"I'm not arguing with you there."
The unbreakable firmness in his tone seemed to increase her mounting anxiety, an unfortunate contrast to its intended purpose of smoothing it out. "And yet you aren't willing to reconsider? What makes you think that she's turned over a new leaf? This is a deal with the devil, Toby! What are you thinking?"
He closed his eyes out of necessity. Her athletic form was practically sprinting back and forth at the foot of his bed. It was enough to make him seasick. "I'm thinking about Spencer. She's worth it."
"You're forgetting the fact that we almost lost her completely because of that same attitude…you think that doing whatever it takes to save her is worth the damage of the price tag, but what about her feelings? This isn't what Spencer would want."
Toby bridged his fingers over his nose, swallowing several times to compose himself. He knew Emily hadn't meant to hurt him with that reminder, but the old wound had reopened nonetheless. "I can't dwell on those kinds of consequences. Not when the alternative is losing her under much more permanent conditions. I can deal with self-righteous anger, but not…n-not if something happened…"
She flopped into the chair at his side, all of her rambling energy leaving her in a comprehensive tide. "Please don't go there. She has to be okay. We can find her without Mona's help."
"Oh, honey, don't kid yourself. You can't do anything without my help."
"Mona." Emily stood again, her chin squared defensively.
"Down, girl." The petite brunette sashayed into the room with her usual flair. "I was invited here, wasn't I?"
Toby cut in before Emily had the chance to insert her personal opinions on that matter. "Yes, you were. There's something I need to talk to you about."
She rolled her eyes impatiently and began to buff her nails on the sleeve of her coat. "This better be important. Sunday is my day off."
The taller of the two girls launched ahead, unbridled fury scribbled between her brows. "You're day off from f—"
"Emily!" his blue eyes flashed reprovingly. "I think you should go downstairs and wait for Caleb. He and Hanna should be here any minute. You're going to help them search around town, okay?"
"What? When did you…?" her expression transitioned into jumbled dissatisfaction.
"I called him while you were gone. This is the best way for you to help."
Mona smirked wickedly, clearly enjoying the tension that passed between the two of them. "I can come back later if you'd like."
"No. Later isn't soon enough." He shook his head stubbornly before glancing half-heartedly at Emily. "I'm sorry, Em. I need to do this."
"I am not leaving you alone with—"
"With moi?" Mona's pert smile whipped through the taut air. "Toby and I have spent plenty of quality time together, haven't we? He did call my VIP phone line after all."
Choosing to ignore the pint-sized terror altogether, Toby kept his steady gaze on his frustrated friend. "I'll be fine. If I could go with you, I would…let me do what I can from my end and we'll keep in contact. Okay?"
Her frown didn't waver. "I don't like this."
"I'm not asking you to like it. I'll call you for an update."
Emily breathed out a vicious exhale. "Fine. If I don't hear from you…"
"You will. Be careful out there, alright?" Toby injected every last ounce of enduring warmth into his voice. He could only cope with one catastrophic happening at a time. Sending the rest of his friends out into the quickly approaching dusk was not something he did lightly.
"Same to you." She conveyed a lingering look of suspicion toward Mona as she departed.
"So let me guess. Inspector Hastings, amateur detective extraordinaire, has gone missing?
He ground his teeth together for some semblance of restraint. "If I said yes, what would that mean to you?"
She didn't bat an eyelash. "What do you want it to mean to me?"
"You stopped him last night. Ezra Fitz could have killed me if you hadn't intervened. I…I have no idea why you did that, but I do know that I'm alive because of it."
"So you think I'm going soft?" Her look of boredom didn't surprise him. Even the slimmest suggestion of sappiness put her on guard.
Toby shrugged indifferently. "I think that you aren't the person I thought you were. I don't need the whole story. What I need is Spencer. I'm under the impression that you'd be able to find her faster than anyone else could."
"Maybe I'm fresh out of favors. Maybe I like you more than I like her." Her intonation was painfully casual, as if they were discussing weather patterns or a homework assignment.
He refused to let it stir his temper. "Or maybe we have a common enemy that we'd both like to see burning on a stake."
That got her attention. Her dark eyes tapered as she stepped closer. "Maybe we do. That doesn't mean I can help you."
"Are you…afraid of this enemy?" he asked, cocking a brow that would hopefully read as an indirect challenge.
She snorted haughtily. "I am not afraid. I just pick my battles wisely."
Perfect. "There's a broken needle under my bed. She was taken against her will."
Her eyes skimmed downward, evaluating the mentioned evidence. "So?"
"So that's some degree of an assault charge, on top of the obvious kidnapping offense. We have a real crime to pin on this son of a bitch, meaning this could be the last stunt we ever have to deal with."
"And you trust me? After everything…after all that I've done to you, to Spencer and her friends? You'd be able to let go of the past that easily?"
"Yes. For this, yes." His protesting intuition bristled at that one simple syllable, but he wouldn't retract it. He could compartmentalize all of his disdain for this one shot at saving Spencer.
Her arms were crossed evasively and her coated lips twitched to the side. "How do I know you won't throw me under the bus at the first sign of trouble?"
"Because I'm in the same boat, aren't I? That risk goes both ways. We both know that you could toss me overboard without breaking a sweat."
She turned away from him for a long stretch of silence, scrutinizing the buzzing activity outside of his window. "I'm not doing this for you."
It was a good thing he was already sitting down. A combination of relief and astonishment coursed through him. Toby hadn't realized just how little faith he'd had in the possibility of her agreeing to his proposal. "I don't care why you're doing this. All I care about is that you are doing it."
Mona orbited on her heels, a scorned gleam appearing in her eyes. "I've been taking orders from these crackerjacks for too long. Time to flip this beast on its head."