A/N: Guys, seriously, I have no words for how kind you've all been to me. It's like I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, haha.

For the people that said that last chapter made them cry or shake, I'm really sorry but I doubt the next chapters are going to be any better. We're dealing with some pretty harrowing stuff here. All I can say is I'm sorry and if you want to blame someone, blame my muse. Because sadly, I have no control over it. If I did, they would be laughing and making out all the time, I swear…

November

The cold November air bit into Veronica's cheeks as she knocked on the door of the loft. It wasn't long before Toby opened, stepping aside to let her in.

"Hi," he said quietly, and Veronica spotted distress on his features. "She's not having a good day. She…"

He glanced over her shoulder, and Veronica turned to see her daughter's tiny frame on the couch. She was still in her pajamas, staring off into space with an empty look in her eyes that made Veronica want to turn around and seek refuge in her car. But then Toby moved towards her, giving Veronica no choice but to follow.

"Spencer?" he said softly, as if he didn't want to disturb her. "Your mom's here."

She barely reacted. Veronica reached out to smooth out the creases in the blanket draped across her daughter's lap, just to give herself something to do.

"Hi, sweetheart," she tried carefully.

Spencer's head turned in the direction of her voice, but she didn't meet her eyes. Instead, her gaze followed Toby as he went back to the kitchen to grab some last minute things. Veronica stood by awkwardly, wanting to help, wishing she had the answers to questions she was too afraid to ask.

Toby returned soon after, kneeling in front of his delicate girlfriend and reaching for her hands with his.

"I'll see you tonight, okay?"

It was as if she didn't hear him, and Veronica could easily detect the pain in his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering longer than they typically would have if this were an average day. She sat there passively, but when he moved to get up, she suddenly reached out and grabbed his shirt with both hands.

Immediately, he sat down next to her on the couch, pulling her so far into his embrace that she was halfway in his lap. His hand slowly trailed from her scalp all the way down her back and up into her hair again. His lips nestled into her shoulder, kissing her though her shirt.

"I have to go," he said softly after a moment, "I'll check in on my lunch break, I promise."

But Spencer just held him tighter, whimpering and slightly shaking her head. Her fingertips dug into his shoulders in a way that was almost painful.

"Baby…" he said helplessly, the term of endearment falling from his lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. "It's work. You know I'd rather stay here, with you, but I can't…"

She didn't answer, and didn't make any movement to loosen her death grip on him. Toby waited a minute before he made to get up, but she clung to him like a baby koala, causing him to sink back down after a short scuffle.

"I have to go to work," he repeated brokenly, hoping his words would be able to reach her. He honestly didn't know if he had it in him to physically remove himself from her claws. "I wish I could stay, I do. You have no idea… But I have to go now."

"No," she wailed, speaking her first word all morning. It cut through Toby's gut even before it was followed by a long, tormented sob. His body reacted by pulling her closer before his brain could tell him this might not be a good idea.

"I'm sorry," he said desperately, brushing her tears away with his thumbs, feeling his own eyes spill over. "I'm so sorry…"

He felt increasing despair course through him as he watched his apologies do nothing to soothe her. How was he supposed to walk away when she was looking him like he would never come back once he was out the door?

"I love you so much," he choked out. "You know that, right?"

But she was smart. She knew he was saying goodbye. It was just for the day, but that didn't make any difference. Sometimes a day felt like a lifetime to her.

Fresh tears graced her cheeks as she shook her head urgently, not because she didn't know, but because it made the thought of being without him that much more unbearable.

When he made a last attempt to get up, the sound that came from her throat was almost animalistic. A crazed, low cry – like a frightened creature trapped in the dark.

It undid him. He broke, bringing her closer, pressing his lips against her face. "Okay," he whispered, "Okay. I'll take a sick day. It's okay."

But something ugly had been ignited inside her, and there was no stopping it. She clung to him for dear life and cried for a long, long time, devastated sobs wracking her entire body. The deep sadness within her was like a beast that needed to come out, or it would eat her alive.

He did nothing to shush her. He just held her in his arms, hating how it was everything he could do and yet still not enough to ease her suffering. Spencer was a severely traumatized human being – anyone who spent five minutes with her could see that. But Toby had come to realize that people often underestimated the grief she also carried. There were no words for the horror she had witnessed… but it was more than just that. The horror held hostage parts of her mind, but the grief took pieces of her soul.

Although he knew the cause of her tears was no longer because she feared he would up and leave her, it didn't make him feel any less guilty or pained or furious. He had given up trying to keep his own tears at bay – it just wasn't any use when she cried like that. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he grew conscious of Veronica moving away from them. He blinked, almost having forgotten she was even here. Their eyes met across the room in a brief instant before they both looked away. It was hard to maintain eye contact when the person that had brought them together was in such shambles.

Veronica stepped out of the room. She needed to get out of there. She couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take her daughter's heart-wrenching sobs and couldn't take the notion that she had absolutely no idea how to help her.

She blindly walked into the bedroom, immediately moving to tidy the unmade bed. Maybe if her hands kept busy, she could escape the unrest in her head.

Her restlessness guided her into the adjacent bathroom next. She scrubbed the toilet and cleaned the showerhead, not taking the time to dwell on the fact that she hadn't done either of these household tasks in her own home since they'd hired their first maid when she was pregnant with Melissa. For now, it gave her more relief than she ever would have thought possible.

The bathroom was spic and span sooner than she would have liked. Desperate to keep busy, she opened the cabinets above the sink, figuring they could use some reorganizing. Her fingers went to work mindlessly, categorizing medication boxes and hand creams by color and shape because her brain to was too tired to think up a more logical system.

She clicked her tongue impatiently when she dropped a few items into the sink. She froze when her eyes landed on one of the tiny parcels, reaching out to hold it in her hand.

Birth control pills.

Veronica stared at them, feeling somewhat silly at her own dismay. She had known they were sexually active before all this happened, but somehow she didn't think…

It took her a moment to realize why she didn't feel more outraged. And if she didn't know Toby – if she hadn't watched him love and care for Spencer with no reservations and no exceptions, both Before and After – perhaps she would have felt just that.

But Veronica didn't doubt that if they were having sex, it was because Spencer wanted it. Any other nineteen-year-old kid would have hit the road months ago, but this boy was in the next room, cradling her sobbing child like she was his lifeline. He would never manipulate her or take advantage of her, and Veronica would have bet her life that it only happened on Spencer's terms.

She sighed when another sensation spread through her body, almost knocking her off her feet when she realized what it was. Happiness. Not the overwhelming kind – but genuine, delightful happiness nonetheless. Happiness that her daughter could still experience the joy of making love to a man who so openly adored her. Did that make her a terrible mother?

She shook her head and quickly placed everything back into the cabinet. She figured she'd done enough snooping for one day.

Apprehensively, she made her way back to the living room, taking notice of the quiet. She approached the couch silently, feeling her heart constrict at the sight before her.

Spencer and her boyfriend had fallen into a restless sleep on the couch, undoubtedly exhausted from the extreme emotions they'd been catapulted into dealing with earlier. Toby was on his back with an arm flung around her as she cuddled into his chest, her fingers still clasped around the material of his T-shirt. His neck was at an awkward angle and his lips were buried in the hair atop her head, as if he had fallen asleep mid-kiss.

Veronica's hand went to brush back her daughter's hair. She lingered for a moment, then pulled the blanket higher on the girl's shoulders and headed for the kitchen.

She quickly whipped up something to eat with whatever she could find in the fridge. It didn't seem like much, but at least they wouldn't have to worry about cooking when they woke up. She scribbled a note, and with one last look at the sleeping duo she was out the door.

She was not needed here.

December

Turning off the shower, Toby wrapped a towel around his waist and set one and then the other foot down on the bathroom floor. Reaching for a second towel to dry his hair, he glanced at Spencer, who was numbly applying mascara at the sink.

She hardly ever wore makeup anymore. He supposed she didn't see much point. It wasn't as if she never went outside, though. She thrived from taking long walks up in the woods that overlooked Rosewood. Nothing made her happier than a picnic in their favorite spot on a sunny day.

But today, they weren't spending the day outside, just the two of them. His heart ached when he saw that her hands were trembling just a little.

He kept one eye on her as he got dressed in a fresh button-down shirt and his most formal pair of dark jeans. Spencer was still in her bathrobe, but her makeup was flawless and she'd taken the effort to straighten her hair. Now she was attempting to clasp a necklace her father had given her junior year behind her neck. Toby watched as she struggled, the shaking of her fingers making this simple task close to impossible. He could practically feel her frustration rising.

He sighed and slowly moved to stand behind her, his hands covering hers and closing the fastening at her neck. He tried to catch her eyes in the mirror, but she kept them strictly on the floor.

"Spencer…"

He gently turned her around, lifting her up and setting her down on the sink top. He moved between her legs, still trying to make eye contact. His hands ran down her arms, eventually settling at her hips. At this point he felt like he would have sold his soul to the devil if it would make her look at him.

"It's just Christmas dinner with your family," he said soothingly. "It's going to be okay, I promise. I'll stay by your side the whole time, and if ever, at any point, you've had enough… you just look at me and I will have you out of there faster than you can say Christmas cookie."

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his. He met her gaze evenly, letting her know he meant every word he said.

And then, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He pulled her closer, running his fingers through her hair, reveling in her familiar smell. No matter how she was different, her smell was still the same, and it comforted him more than he could put into words.

She was smiling a little when they broke apart. She fiddled with a button on his shirt. "You look handsome."

"Yeah? Good enough for Christmas at the fancy Hastings house?"

She nodded, running her hand down the front of his shirt-clad chest. When she spoke her voice was barely audible. "You're perfect."

"Well, what are you wearing?" he wanted to know, tickling her side gently. "The red?"

"I can't tell you," she said, her raspy voice taking on a sexy quality that he hadn't heard in forever. "It's a surprise."

He went weak in the knees when he realized she was teasing him. He smiled at her, wishing he could freeze the moment and capture the silly grin on her face. Save it for the days when it seemed like she would never smile again.

"Okay then," he said, setting her down on her feet again and giving her a gentle push towards the bedroom. "Surprise me."

She laughed softly, and it was like music to his ears.