1. Please do not give me another chapter with 3 reviews. Sorry I haven't updated a ton, but I am always working hard for you, and I don't love not getting a response. Thanks Kristhefangirl for still reviewing everything though.
2. This got hella creepy, my bad. Actually, sorry not sorry!
This is how it should have ended, because everything about A suggested that they wouldn't give up as easily as Cece did. Okay bye. See you on my next story.
Chapter 8
TPOV
His chest ached as he carried her off to their uncertain future. She weighed practically nothing in his arms. He wasn't worried about himself; he knew it was stupid, but his future didn't matter so much to him. The only reason that he cared at all about his future was because Spencer had brought him back to life. She was the only reason that there was any light in his life. He would protect her with everything that he had.
Her breathing was labored as she tucked her face into his shirt, her small fingers grasping at the fabric. "Don't be stupid," she breathed, her warm, shaky breath pleasantly warming his clammy skin.
He smiled despite the situation. "No promises."
"You're an idiot," she mumbled.
He hesitated as they walked by the nurses' station, his heart clenching painfully as he saw three nurses slumped in various positions. He didn't know what was going to happen, but he was absolutely terrified. Melissa led them into a room, and he felt anger surge in his stomach when he saw Wren sitting up in his bed. How was it that that bastard was recovering faster than Spencer? "What the fuck do you want?" He cursed uncharacteristically.
Wren grinned and pulled himself up without even a wince. "Good job, my pets." He walked to Cece and smoothed her air down, like he was rewarding a dog for fetching a stick. It was sick, especially the way that Cece leaned in to it, like Wren's approval was all that she ever wanted. His face hardened as he looked at Toby and Spencer. "Put her down, Cavanaugh."
"Not a chance in hell." There was no hesitation. He wouldn't be doing that.
A shiny gun was in Wren's steady hands. He hesitated, setting Spencer upright but still supporting all of her weight. That was as good as it was going to get, and he didn't care what Wren had to say about that. He could shoot him if he wanted to. It was preferable to any of the host of outcomes that would leave Spencer even more injured than she already was.
Wren gave him a hard look before nodding his acceptance. "I supposed that is acceptable," he said in the British accent that Toby now knew was fake. "but know, Cavanaugh, any misbehaving on your part and she's going to pay for it, not you."
Spencer snorted, slumping further in to him. He buried one hand in her hair and curled the other around her waist. She leaned on him with all of her body weight, which was what he wanted. He didn't want her to even attempt to support herself. "If you think that worries me at this point," she began in a low, labored voice. "than you haven't learned a-anything about me." She struggled to get the last part out.
His lips were in her hair. "Shh," he breathed into her ear. She needed to conserve her strength, because he didn't know what it would take for them to get out of this.
Wren let out a hacking cough and he had to smile, because it felt good to see him in some kind of pain. Especially when Spencer couldn't even stand up on her own. Wren grinned at the two of them. "You might wonder why I brought you here today," he said, finally dropping the accent. He stroked the gun with two fingers. Cece walked next to him, her gun still in hand as well.
His eyes narrowed. He ran through idea after idea in his mind, none of which he could be sure to get the two of them out of their unscathed, none of which guaranteed that just Spencer would get out unscathed. That was more important to him, but he couldn't think of a way to guarantee even that. Wren grinned and took a step forward. "Don't look so constipated, Toby. I've got grand plans for all five of us."
He still didn't answer. His lips were in Spencer's hair, his eyes on her face. He was going to be certain that she was okay, because that was all that mattered to him anymore. Wren, clearly fed up with his lack of a response, lifted his gun and pointed it at the two of them. His heart clenched and he shifted, being sure that his body was between Spencer and the gun.
But Wren just laughed and shifted, firing the gun behind them. Spencer cried out and slumped deeper in to him. He pulled her tighter and glanced back as Melissa fell to the ground, blood pouring out of her chest. "Oh my God," Spencer sobbed into him. "oh my God. Wren please. Just let him go. Let Toby go, o-okay? Y-you have me. That's w-what you want, right?"
"Spencer," he snapped. "Stop." He wasn't sure how he was supposed to hold her up, to keep her safe and to protect her all at the same time. Tears welled up in his eyes at the frustration of it all. He didn't know what to do. Should he go help Melissa?
Wren nodded at Cece, who took a large step forward. She pulled out her gun and brushed the cool metal up his arm. He tightened his grip on Spencer, but he didn't shift away. He didn't want to antagonize the girl with the gun. Wren stood in front of them, talking as though he were watching an interesting television show. "I haven't decided how this ends yet. We can make this easy or we can make this hard."
Cece moved to put the gun on Spencer, but he jerked her away before he could. They could mess with him all day, but they wouldn't be hurting her. Not any longer. Cece cackled. "Oh, protective. I like it."
Wren rolled his eyes again, pointing his gun toward them. Once again, he covered Spencer's body with his, but the gun shot he was expecting didn't hit them. Cece fell into them as she fell to the ground. He couldn't see where the blood was coming from, but she didn't get up again. He hoisted Spencer back up and in to his arms and grabbed the gun from next to Cece's body, pointing it at Wren.
He squatted down, the gun still pointing at Wren. "Spence, can you get on my back?"
Her ragged breathing wasn't reassuring, but she nodded against his shoulder. She used his body as she shifted to his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He put one hand on her thigh and pulled her up, all the while keeping the gun trained on Wren. If for no other reason than this very moment, he was endlessly grateful for his stint as a police officer, if for no other reason than for the fact that he knew how to work this gun.
Wren let out a hysterical laugh as he looked at the gun. "Do it then. Do it. Shoot me!"
He hesitated, lowering the gun just slightly. There was something off about this whole thing. He focused on Spencer's steady breaths against his back as he tried to work out what his gut was telling him.
Wren's voice cracked as he continued, his tone shooting up an octave. "Come on man. I almost killed your girl, more than once actually. I almost got her blow up. I almost barbecued her in the steam room. I almost froze her to death at that demented ice cream factory. I tried to kill her more than once in my bunker. And you. I did manage to kill your mom."
He could feel the rage billowing up, but he kept his cool, one hand on Spencer's thigh and the other holding the gun. He lowered it again. "Do you- do you want me to kill you?"
Wren's face crumpled as he waved the gun around. "I have nothing left. My dolls are gone. My sister is gone. It's time to go out with a bang, yeah? Everything is gone. My family is gone."
He felt something in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure whether it was pity or anger or both. The anger was edging its way to the top though. Really, would anyone blame him for shooting Wren? He was a cop, right? It was self-defense. He was neutralizing the situation. And if he was dead then Spencer's nightmare would be gone. If Wren was dead he could finally get revenge for his mom. He could finally start to get closure on that part of his life. He could end this.
"Toby," Spencer whispered into his ear, her head against his shoulder from the back. He was sure that she could feel the way he shivered embarrassingly as the feel of her breath against his skin. "T-this isn't you. D-don't let him turn you in to someone that you are not. Put the gun d-down."
He took in a deep breath. He didn't put the gun down, but he lowered it slightly. Wren wasn't having that. He opened his mouth to protest, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of people bursting into the room. He dove to the side, twisting so that Spencer was underneath him as the room filled with gun fire. He wasn't sure if it came from Wren or their new friends, he wasn't even sure which way was up. He just tightened his grip on Spencer, fighting to make themselves smaller. He didn't particularly want to get shot, as much as he would prefer that it was him over her.
It felt like an eternity, but really it was only a few seconds before the shots ended. He didn't move though. It could have been a trick.
"Toby, it's okay."
His head jerked up so quickly his neck cracked. "Hanna?" He lifted his head and saw a few police officers by the door, and Wren on the ground, bleeding from his chest. He gently pulled Spencer back up, who didn't speak. She just tucked her face in to his shirt and breathed heavily. He looked down at her. "Walk with me, I need to get her back to her room."
The blonde trailed after him. He could tell that she was crying from her tone of voice. "I was down the hall when Cece and Melissa took you. I called the police."
He nodded gratefully. "Thank you."
"I had too, you know? This was all my fault to begin with. If I had just looked behind me I could have prevented all of this." She whispered as they walked into the room.
He took his time settling Spencer back in. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. That seemed most important. He hooked the oxygen back over her face and sat down next to her, taking her hand as he looked at Hanna. "It was as much my fault as it was yours," he said softly, finally admitting to the crushing guilt he had been feeling. "I never should have left you guys at the dance. You're prone to make the stupidest decisions possible," he laughed a little tearfully. "I knew that."
Hanna shook her head. "We would have found a way to go anyway. You know that."
He smiled sadly. "Well if I can't blame myself you can't either, because we both know that Spencer would have found a way to be the last one out of that building." It was manipulation, and Spencer would have been proud. But the smile that was on Hanna's face made it all worth it.
Spencer's fingers squeezed his hand. She had his full attention, his eyes on her face and his free hand stroking her cheek. His smile grew. "It's over," he said softly. "I think it's finally over."
5 years later
SPOV
She took the flowers from Toby's hand to give him two free hands to help their daughter out of the backseat. "Riley," he groaned, trying to keep a hold of their squirmy two year old. "You need to stay with us."
"Why?" She chirped, skipping off ahead.
Spencer smiled sadly, watching her brown curls bounce as she danced among the grave stones. "What kind of trouble could she get in to in a cemetery?" Spencer laughed.
Toby gave her a look. "She is your daughter."
Spencer laughed for real this time. "Okay, good point." She rose her voice a little bit. "Riley, come help Mommy carry these flowers. They're really heavy."
Riley turned around immediately, skipping back and putting two hands on Spencer's pregnant belly. "Baby?"
Toby took advantage of Riley's distraction and picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. She shrieked with laughter. "Put me down, Daddy!"
"Nope," Toby grinned.
Spencer was momentarily distracted. The way his muscles shifted in his arms as he held their daughter was indescribably attractive. She paused in front of Melissa's grave, propping up the roses on Melissa's grave. She supposed that she should say something sentimental, but nothing was coming to mind. She had loved her sister deeply, but her death made it possible for her to live again. And for that reason she couldn't bring herself to feel too sad over her passing. But in that same breath, she couldn't stop herself from bringing roses once a year. It felt like the right thing to do.
Toby returned to her side, their daughter still draped over his shoulder. He put his free hand on the small of her back. "All good?" His eyes were concerned, although he struggled to hide that from Riley. He was there for the worst of it. He was there for every single moment, holding her up when she didn't think that she could stand any longer. He knew what the memories had the potential to do to her.
But despite all that she nodded, her hand going up to brush along the jagged scar, the only remnants of the end of her nightmare. "I'm good. Everything is perfect."
