Two more chapters!

I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. But I wanted to get this up for you first.

CHRISTMAS EPISODE?! LOVED IT. But honestly, the Spoby gesture thing was weird. HOT. But weird and a little OOC for them, I think. IF ANYONE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT IT PM ME.

Chapter 20

September

The morning sun was warm on his chilled face. He rolled over, painfully slowly, and tucked his face into Spencer's warm neck, praying that he wouldn't wake her up in the process. She had always been a light sleeper, but anymore it was like a change in the tempo of his breathing could rouse her from her rest. And that was the last thing that he wanted.

She had been so incredible, so strong. But ever since the doctors had suggested bringing him home she had started to slowly unravel. And he truly didn't blame her. Because if he had to watch her die slowly and painfully he was positive that he'd handle it worse than she had. Because there wasn't life for him without Spencer. And in his most selfish moments he was glad that he didn't have to watch her suffer like she had been forced to watch him. He was glad he wouldn't have to learn to live without her.

But she didn't wake up. She just shifted closer to him and groaned in her sleep. She was so beautiful. She didn't see it, but she was. Every single piece of her soul was stunning. He could have laid there with her forever. But the faint knocks from the front door signaled that it wasn't meant to be.

His movement hadn't woken her, but the noises certainly did. She groaned and carefully rolled over so she didn't jostle him. "Are you awake?"

"Mhmm," he murmured, not really ready for intelligible conversation.

She brushed his hair back and pressed her lips to his temple. "I'm sure that's the nurse. I'll go let her in, okay?"

He caught her wrist before she could pull away and tugged her back down. "Spence, just- you know that no matter what happens... everything will be okay in the end, right? I promise I'll make it okay for you." He didn't even know why he was saying that. It just spilled out. But judging by the tears in her eyes it was some well-timed word vomit.

She wiped a stray tear away and pressed a soft and gentle kiss to his lips. "I love you," she said slowly and sincerely. She walked away before he could return the words, and he immediately felt her absence. He never wanted her to leave, but he was glad that she was going tonight. Because the look on her face made him even more determined to begin to finalize his plans. There were a stack of letters in a box under his bed, but that wasn't enough. It was time to talk to Emily.

He coughed hard, a spattering of blood painting the fair skin of his arms. He wiped it away quickly, not wanting to worry anyone. It was probably just from the force of his cough.

She was back in just a moment, a frail looking nurse trailing after her. She hovered in the corner while the nurse poked and prodded him with her cold fingers. He just closed his eyes, letting her take care of what she needed to take care of. "How are you feeling today, Mr. Cavanaugh? On a scale from 1 to 10."

He hesitated. It had been awhile since he had honestly assessed his feelings. "Maybe an 8?" He muttered. He was mostly just really tired; exhaustion seeped so deeply into his bones that he wasn't positive he could as much as lift his head from the pillows.

Spencer's face twisted in sadness, and he kind of regretted being honest. But in the long run, if he downplayed how it was it would be infinitely harder for her to move on. The woman gave her a few injections before smiling fondly and leaving. It only took a second for Spencer to take her place next to him. "Em should be here any minute."

He just nodded. His throat ached and he felt his eyes drifting shut. But he fought it. This might be his last chance to finish the letters. He just had one to go. He only had to finish the letter to go with her Christmas present and he was done. Spencer was leaving him less and less, and if he didn't get it done he might never finish it.

She brushed her hand over his hair and held his head against her chest. "I love you," she murmured, her words being punctuated by a sharp knock on the door. "That must be Em." She kissed his temple before pulling away again.

He was so torn right now. Because Spencer was the only one that made him feel comfortable... safe... but he also knew that the only way that he could make sure that she felt safe and comfortable would be if she left him for awhile.

She was working hard, too hard. He could see it in the haggard set of her shoulders and the heavy bags under her eyes. She had always been singular in her focus, but this was just too much. She needed to take a break.

"Spence?" He kept his voice quiet and calm. Because in all honesty, she bore closer resemblance to a skittish deer than anything right now. He didn't want to scare her.

But she still practically jumped out of her skin. When she saw that it was him she relaxed, but she didn't shut the book that probably weighed as much as she did. "Hey," she muttered.

He sat down across from her and took her hand over the table. Her small hand fit so perfectly in his. But she tugged on it, trying to get free. "I'm glad you're here, but I need to study, so maybe it's not the best time."

He looked down at the table so she didn't see how much that hurt. "Spence, are we okay?" It just felt like she was pushing him away.

She whipped her head up and looked at him with her piercing brown eyes. "Toby," she breathed, taking his hand back. "We'll always be okay. Always. I just get a little lost in my head sometimes. But you know that you can always bring me back."

Her lips on his forehead brought him back from the memories. "You heading out?"

"Mhmm," she hummed. "I'll be back in a couple hours, okay? Call me if you need me to come back."

"I'll be fine," he whispered. Because there wasn't a higher power that was cruel enough to take him away while she wasn't there. It just wouldn't happen. "Will you pick me up some ice cream while you're out?" He asked her, not because he really needed ice cream but because he knew she would appreciate feeling needed.

She smiled and nodded. "I'll be back soon. I love you."

"Love you," he tilted his head to press a kiss to her wrist.

And with that Emily and Spencer traded spots so quickly that it was like magic. Emily sat on the edge of his bed, smiling in the soft way that only Emily could. "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I'm here. I'll let you rest though."

He quickly shook his head. "No, hold on Em. I need to talk to you."

"Okay," she said softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, maybe-" he really didn't know how she'd react to this. If she said no he could ask Hanna, but he knew that it would work better with Emily.

"Just tell me what's going on," she suggested quietly.

He nodded. He didn't know how to say this. "I'm dying, Em." Bluntness was probably for the best. It's not like she didn't know.

"Maybe not," she replied earnestly. "maybe you'll be okay."

He just shook his head. Why did everyone try to counteract that with statements of reassurance? He knew what he was feeling. "No, Em. I can literally feel it happening. I'll still fight. I'll fight like hell, but- I just don't think it's a fight that I'm going to win."

"What are you wanting from me, Toby?" She asked him, not unkindly. She had always been perceptive.

"It's- My death isn't going to be easy on Spencer," he was near tears even thinking about it. "I've been writing her letters, things that she's going to need to hear, reminding her of how much I love her."

The reluctance on her face was worrying him. She had to do this He needed her to agree to this. "I just need someone to agree to send the letters. She'll need them, Em. I just- I can't even imagine losing her, and to know that I'm going to put her through that pain? It literally kills me. And this will help. I know that it will."

Her face looked pinched. "What happens when the letters run out?"

He had thought about that. And he just had to hope that Spencer was strong enough to push through that. She'd be okay. She'd just need a little bit of help. "She'll be okay. She just need a little help. Please,Em."

Her reluctance slowly softened. She nodded, and he had never felt so grateful to anyone in his life. "Thank you," he whispered, leaning back against his pillows, completely exhausted. "Thank you."

He tossed a crumbled up piece of paper to the ground with a loud groan. How was he supposed to do this? This was the last letter that he had to write, and he didn't know how to write it. Spencer transformed his whole life, and he needed to make sure that his death didn't ruin her. He needed to help her find a reason to move on. But how?

"Toby, are you alright?"

He just shook his head helplessly, for the second time that day finding himself near tears. "This is the last one, Em. The last one, and I don't know how to write it. I don't know what to say."

"Maybe that's the problem," she suggested gently. "Maybe you shouldn't write it. Maybe you should say it."

He was confused until he wasn't. He smiled softly. "Can you grab me the recorder out of the closet?"

She nodded and passed it to him. He nearly dropped it between his trembling fingers, but he managed to hang onto it. This was too important. "Em? Do you mind-"

She just smiled and slid through the door. He wasn't trying to kick her out, but he felt that maybe Spencer should be the one to hear the words he had to say first. He took a deep, ragged breath and turned on the tape recorder. It always ended up better if he didn't think about it too much. "Hey baby, I bet you thought that you heard the last from me. And I'm sorry about that. I didn't even know I was going to record this. I had a letter written for you, but then I realized that I needed to do this. This is as much for me as it is for you. Because I have some things that I have to tell you. Things that are better said than written. Things that you need to hear. And the first is, don't be afraid to move on."

All that he wanted was for her to be happy. The thought of her with another guy stung, but if that's what she needed he would never even consider trying to stand in the way of that. The rest of his words flowed like they never could have in a letter. Emily was right. This was definitely the way to go, the way to say goodbye.

Because he felt it. He felt it with every single breath that he took. His time was running out. His life was coming to a close, but hers wasn't. And the only way that he could make it okay for her was if he did this, if he said goodbye.