So here's this? Idk I'm tired, I'm going to bed! You guys are brilliant! I'll have a better note next time promise. You guys are literally brilliant.

This isn't the most importance chapter plot wise, but character wise it's pretty important. I love writing angsty Toby, let's be honest. It's my fav.

Chapter 4

TPOV

Every single second that ticked by sent him deeper down the rabbit hole that was lined with regrets. He shouldn't have left her. He loved her more than the air that he breathed, but God, she lost every ounce of intelligence that she possessed. And that was saying something, because she was by far the smartest person that he had ever met. He should have known that should would do something stupid. She couldn't help herself. When she felt like someone she cared about was being threatened she lost all reason.

But he loved her. He loved her beyond any sense of rational thought. He loved her more than any single other thing on the planet, and if he could trade places with her right now he would gladly do it. Because seeing her hurt was infinitely more painful than shouldering the brunt of that pain himself. He would much rather take on all the physical pain in the world than watch her suffer through this, because then he at least would know that she was safe.

Now though? All he could think of was her broken body, and the way that Wren's body was twisted over hers. He was endlessly grateful that that bastard had taken the brunt of the beating for her, but his blood boiled at whatever had led them to be in that position in the first place. Was he planning on hurting her?

He winced and dropped to a hard, uncomfortable waiting room chair. He should have done a better job of protecting her. She always had his back when he needed her, but he consistently let her down when she needed him.

He sat sadly, among the rubble of the place that was always more a house than a home, and picked through the fragments of what remained. The explosion had taken out nearly everything, but there he was, still picking through the rubble in the pathetic hope that he might find something to make this worthwhile.

The hairs stood on the back of his neck, and he knew that she was there before she even said anything. "Are you okay?" She asked him softly.

He tilted his head back and gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. I just- I don't know."

She lowered herself neck to him, sitting on the dusty ground. Sometimes he didn't fully appreciate how different she was from the rest of her family, but in moments like these, when she sat in a pile of debris in $400 pants, the differences were alarmingly highlighted. She put a solid hand on his thigh. "I think you do know," she murmured.

She always saw right through him. "I know it's dumb, but this was the last place I saw my mom happy," he muttered. "And now it's gone, and it feels like the last piece of her is gone too."

Spencer pulled him down, into her body. He usually fought so hard not to burden her with his weight, but today he couldn't do it. He leaned into her, hiding his face in her soft curls. "I love you," she murmured, her words warming him all the way through.

"I love you too," he whispered, never meaning any three words more.

What was he supposed to do without her? Why hadn't she listened? If she had just stayed behind he would have been able to protect her. Nothing would have happened to her if he had been there, because he would have ripped Wren's arm off before he touched her. She would have gotten out with the rest of the girls.

Usually he put on a strong front for Spencer. Usually he had to be the strong one for her, but right now he was on the verge of crumbling to pieces. He had a bad feeling about this. "Spence-" he whispered, his voice catching.

She smiled sadly. "I promise. I'll be right here."

He flanked her face with his trembling hands. "I can't lose you, Spencer. I thought- I thought that I could survive it as long as you were happy, but I was so fucking wrong. I need you. Please don't go anywhere."

She shrugged out of his grip and nuzzled her way deeper into his arms. "I love you, Toby Cavanaugh. And I promise, I'll be right here."

She lied. She lied, and he was so angry that he couldn't see straight. But waves of crippling worry crashed over him without warning, again and again and again. He couldn't see. He couldn't breath. He didn't want to breath without her.

The doctor was talking to her mom across the room, and it could have been for five minutes or five hours, he had no idea. One one hand he saw their grave faces and Mrs. Hastings' frantic gestures. But his mind was so wrapped up in thoughts of Spencer. They said that your life flashed before your eyes before you died, and he couldn't imagine he would have much of a life without Spencer. Was this his mind's way of preparing him for what would be an insurmountable loss?

His lips melded to hers and it felt so amazing. Every good thing he had ever experienced didn't come close to measuring up to this moment. But then he felt the soft fabric of the hoodie that uncharacteristically covered her lithe frame, and all of the happiness that he had felt came crashing down around him. Because no matter what he did to protect her: no matter what he did now and no matter what he did in the future, it would never be enough to keep her safe. He was willing to give up everything, he was willing to lose her, as long as it meant that this anguish was gone from her life. But it backfired, as it always did. As everything in his life did. He was the consummate failure, after all.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered, her lips hovering just over his, her words practically whispered into his mouth. "I'm so sorry."

He pulled back, keeping an arm curled around her. He couldn't imagine not touching her right now. "What are you talking about?" He asked her softly, giving her a questioning glance. What could she possibly have to apologize for, especially compared to his lengthy list?

Tears clung to her eyelashes, streaks of black trailing down her cheeks. "I never should have believed that you were capable of this. I know you, and I know that this isn't you."

His already fractured heart cracked more with every word that she said. "I wanted you to believe it, Spencer. You have nothing to apologize for. But I-"

She shook her head, brushing her lips over his. "No," she murmured. "Don't."

"Spencer-" he tried, but she kissed him again before pulling back.

He was taken aback by the love that he saw in her eyes. "I'm so mad at you, but even still, you don't have to apologize," she said softly. "I know who you are, Toby. I know every selfless, humble part of you, and you never have to apologize to me for being you."

He shifted his focus as Mrs. Hastings made her way over to them. He hadn't spoken since he left the ambulance, and he didn't plan on speaking anytime soon. He wouldn't speak until he knew that she was going to be okay.

Her face was grim, but she was a lawyer. The ability to have a poker face was practically listed as a qualifier in the job description. "Mr. Kingston," she spat Wren's name out like it tasted badly. "is at the end of the hall if any of you would care to see him. He is in critical condition, but they are stabilizing him now. Spencer-" her voice broke as she said her daughter's name, "she's- she's alive, which is the most important thing. Apparently she's been fairly touch and go over the last hour. She lost a lot of blood and she hit her head really hard. She broke nine ribs, and they had to fix one of them in surgery after it collapsed her right lung. They're stabilizing her now though, and they're optimistic."

"Can we see her?" Hanna asked hopefully.

"Where's Alision?" Emily mumbled, almost looking embarrassed for asking.

"Alison didn't make it," Mrs. Hastings grimaced. "I feel badly for the poor girl. And as far as Spencer, one person at a time, because apparently we're going to disturb my unconscious daughter. I would like to go second, but I think that Toby should head back there first. He's the one she'd want to see first."

He had to pause for a solid minute before he could speak without reluctance dripping from every syllable. "Are you sure? She's your daughter, and-"

"Because she's my daughter I know she needs you right now," Mrs. Hastings admitted. "Go. Just- make sure nothing happens to her," Mrs. Hastings added. "Who knows how many people Wren had working for him?"

He would probably literally and truly kill anyone who tried to touch her right now. He didn't care what happened to him. "She'll always be safe with me," were the words that he settled on before pulling himself up and walking down the hall, the similarities between this time and last time he was here for her becoming more pronounced with every step.

She was alive.

That was the most important thing. She was alive, and he was never going to let her go. He was going to hold her until she ordered him away. And maybe he would still hang on for awhile after that.

There had been many times over the course of their relationship where he thought that he had lost her, most of them of his own doing. But none of them had had the potential permanence of the last month. He almost lost her for good, and that wasn't a feeling that he was going to soon forget. He loved her. God, did he love her. And the thought of losing her killed him.

He needed her, and he would do whatever it took to make sure that she was okay. He never gave up, and he wouldn't give up on her now. He didn't believe in much, but he believed in her. He believed in her passion and her tenacity. He believed in her will to live.

If anyone could get through this it was going to be Spencer Hastings.

At least, that's what he believed before he walked into her hospital room. Because when he walked inside and saw her tiny, pale body hooked up to machines and tubes and God knows what else, his knees buckled. It was all that he could do to make it to the chair before dissolving into painful, hysterical sobs. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be in this bed.

How was he supposed to make things okay for her when he couldn't even keep her safe? How was he supposed to be her safe place to land if there was an enemy behind every corner? How was he supposed to protect her.

He traced her unbandaged cheekbone with a trembling finger. He failed her again, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to live with that. He didn't deserve her. He should have protected her. He should have been there to keep her safe.