A/N: You guys are the best. I am so floored by the enthusiastic feedback this story is getting. Thank you so much! I was so nervous about this, I can't tell you how relieved I am that you guys think I'm doing okay with the characterizations for these particular circumstances. Once again, I'm very sorry if I've caused you any tears (even if they're good tears, it still kind of makes me feel bad, haha). I know it's sad – it was emotionally draining for me to write at times, but like I've said before, the idea latched onto me and simply refused to go away.

Let us proceed with January and February!

January

The wind was howling outside Emily's window, instinctively making her shiver even though it was nice and toasty inside her parents' house. It was the worst blizzard Rosewood had seen in over a decade, and this was only the beginning. The news was buzzing with the suspicion that it would only get worse over the course of the evening.

The microwave beeped, indicating her hot chocolate was ready, and at the exact same moment her cell phone went off on the other side of the kitchen. She looked back and forth between the two obnoxious noises for a moment before deciding the phone had priority.

"Hanna?" she queried after seeing the caller ID.

"Yeah, it's me."

She sounded distraught, and Emily's heart leaped out of her chest. They always immediately assumed the worst – she, Hanna, Spencer. They were linked together for life that way.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked fearfully, before something hit her that caused her anxiety to triple. "Isn't today your day with Spencer?"

Hanna made an affirmative noise. "She's being really weird. Even weirder that usual," she added in a hushed tone.

"Hanna!"

Emily groaned inwardly. She adored her blond friend to death, but that didn't mean she didn't curse the girl's complete lack of tact on an almost daily basis.

"What? She can't hear me. She's totally out of it."

"Call Toby," Emily suggested. "He'll know what to do."

"That's just it, Em. We can't reach him."

Emily paused. "What do mean you can't reach him?"

"I mean," Hanna explained slowly, like she was talking to an idiot, "He's not picking up his phone. She wanted to call him to make sure he was okay in this weather. He's been unreachable for over and hour, and she is losing it."

Emily's hand came up to rest against her forehead in despair. She wished she knew what to do. She really did.

"Em, you have to come over here. She's not listening to anything I say."

"Hanna, have you looked outside?" Emily said in disbelief. "You're crazy if you think I'm leaving the house in that."

"Oh my God, Emily! I'm not playing around, and I'm not taking this lightly. If you could see her…"

Her voice trailed off, and Emily sighed hesitantly. Her parents had spent the day in Philly, and had opted to check into a hotel there instead of trying to make it home in the storm. She had promised them she'd stay inside when they called, but now she found herself already searching for her warmest winter coat and moonboots. The thought of Spencer going through that much distress would have led her to the pits of hell.

"Sit tight. I'm on my way."

Emily regretted her resolve more than once. The roads were in such bad shape that she'd made the genius decision of going on foot. It wasn't far, she told herself. In good circumstances it took her less than ten minutes.

Today it took her closer to forty. Her fingers were numb as they finally rapped on the door of the loft. Hanna quickly opened, ushering her inside and pushing the door shut behind them as fast as she could. She hastily helped Emily dispose of all her excess clothing and pushed a mug of hot coffee in her hands.

"Thanks," Emily mumbled. "Still no word from Toby?"

Hanna wearily shook her head, her eyes looking past Emily, who reflexively turned her head.

Spencer was huddled by the windowsill, her knees against her chest and her arms around her legs. Her eyes followed the storm outside, and Emily's heart sank when she realized what she was so desperately looking for. A certain tan truck, and more specifically – the young man inside it.

Quietly, she moved until she was standing beside the other girl. "Hey, Spence."

Spencer started, looking up at her with terrified eyes.

"It's me," Emily said quickly, holding up her hands in surrender. "Can I sit down?"

Spencer didn't answer, didn't even react. Emily knew not to take it personally, and slowly took a seat beside her.

She struggled to find something to say. It was ridiculous. Ludicrous. She had come all this way, literally braved a storm… and now that she was here, no words would come to her. It was as if it didn't matter that Emily had come, because Spencer was still far, far away.

"I'm sure he's fine," she finally said lamely. "He's probably just stranded somewhere and his phone died or something."

Spencer immediately started shaking her head, not once or twice but repeatedly, and covered her ears with her hands. Emily felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. This was a Spencer she didn't know. Nothing could have prepared her for this Spencer.

Emily knew all about Spencer's episodes. She'd seen Toby deal with them, and she'd had to handle several on her own while Toby was at work. She knew by now that if she stuck to the techniques Toby had taught her, Spencer would eventually make it through. She would be lost to them for while, yes – but she would always find her way back.

This Spencer was drastically different. This Spencer wasn't being tortured and tormented by demons of the past, causing her to completely shut out the world around her. This Spencer was teetering on the edge of her sanity because of things happening now, in this moment, and Emily's heart stood still with a sudden, venomous realization.

If – God forbid – the blue-eyed carpenter didn't come home, neither would the girl he'd left behind. She would disappear into her own horrors forever, and there would be no bringing her back.

Emily eyed her inconsolable friend and wracked her brain on what to do. She tried to think like Toby. What would he do if he were here? How would he offer Spencer the comfort she so obviously craved?

A wave of calm washed over Emily. She knew what he would do.

He would hold her.

Timidly, Emily reached out and placed her hand on Spencer's back. The other girl flinched and shrugged her off.

Refusing to be discouraged, Emily leaned in closer and attempted to wrap her arms around her. Spencer grabbed one of her hands with lightning speed and shoved it away none too gently.

Emily gave up. She got up and crossed the room to join Hanna, who was shaking her head helplessly after having witnessed the whole exchange. It was pathetic. Two people combined were just as helpless as one.

Time ticked by, so slowly it seemed as if it were going backwards. Three cell phones rested in the table in the living room, begging to go off. But there was only bitter silence.

Emily and Hanna sat on the couch quietly. They hadn't spoken a word in almost an hour, and Spencer hadn't moved in much longer. She remained rooted in her spot by the window, unnaturally still. The only difference between now and two hours ago was that she was resting her head on her arms, her face, as always, tilted towards the blizzard.

After what seemed like endless motionlessness, Hanna suddenly moved beside Emily, who immediately turned her head to follow her friend's gaze. Spencer was sitting up now – her back straight as an arrow, both her hands resting on the glass as her eyes flickered back and forth across the storm. Without warning, she suddenly scrambled up and before Emily and Hanna could blink she'd rushed to the front door and flung it open.

The two girls on the couch reflexively jumped up to see what the commotion was about, but before they reached her, she had bolted out into the snow like lightning.

"Spencer!" they cried out in unison, and Hanna added a disbelieving, "She's out there on her socks!"

But then they saw it. The tan truck was slowly pulling up in the driveway. They stood by as they watched Spencer descend the steps and run towards it. The car door opened and out came Toby, just in time to catch her as she flung herself into his arms. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as her own arms went around his neck. For a moment they just stood there like this, but then he started to move forward, slowly making his way through storm while he held her against him.

They stumbled through the doorway, and the girls hurried to shut the door to protect the loft from any further exposure.

"Get her a blanket," Toby requested, and both Emily and Hanna jumped.

He sat Spencer down on a stool at the kitchen counter. He pulled off her wet socks, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and wrapped the blanket around her as soon it was handed to him.

She was shivering, but he suspected it was as much from shock as it was from the cold. Her fingers trailed across his face like she couldn't believe he was actually here.

"Why didn't you call?" she whimpered. "Why did you do that to me?"

He grabbed her, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry. I was in such a hurry to get home to you that I left my phone at work. The roads were terrible, it took me five hours to get here."

"You can't do that to me," she repeated, silent tears coursing down her face now. By some miracle she had managed to hold herself together up to this point, but it didn't surprise anyone that the relief at seeing Toby safe and sound was her undoing.

"I know." His voice broke. "I'm so sorry, baby. But you know I'm always with you. I'm always right here." He took her hand and laid it over her heart. "Whenever you're sad or lonely or scared, I'm always right here."

Emily felt a lump rise in her throat as she watched how Spencer took in her lover's monumental words. Somewhere along the line Hanna's hand had slipped into hers and she felt herself squeezing it back as if that would help keep her emotions in check.

None of them had touched anything that resembled food in hours, yet when Toby offered to make them something it was obvious no one had much of an appetite. Hanna and Emily clearly wouldn't be going anywhere with the weather being what it was, and they collectively decided to just go to bed and put this awful day behind them.

"You three girls take the bed," Toby offered. "I'll sleep on the air mattress on the floor."

Everyone knew without being told that he would be sleeping in the same room, on Spencer's side of the bed. It made neither Emily nor Hanna bat an eyelash.

Toby exited the bathroom a while later, smiling in spite of himself. The three girls were lying in the bed, on their backs. Hanna was is the middle, and was going on and on in a long-winded tale about her favorite nail salon while the other two followed the conversation with sleepy eyes.

He settled down on the mattress he'd spent the better part of fifteen minutes blowing up, and Spencer turned her body towards him at once. He kissed her goodnight and nuzzled their noses together.

"Em, can you get the light?" he asked, running his fingers through his girlfriend's hair and smiling reassuringly at her.

Emily hit the switch and the room was instantly dark. She tried to get comfortable, pulling the covers around her and fluffing her pillow once or twice. Next to her, Hanna was out like a light almost instantly, kicking and thrashing as per usual. Emily cursed inwardly. They knew better than to put Hanna in the middle. What the hell were they thinking?

A melancholy feeling washed over her, and Emily squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying. They never did sleepovers anymore. The most obvious reason was that Spencer did not do well with nights away from Toby, and no matter how sweet he was, a sleepover with a boy in the room just didn't have the same feel to it. But there was another prominent reason, and it was one that nobody ever talked about. Sleepovers reminded them too much of a different time – when they were still naïve enough believe they would be able to put their terrifying high school years behind them one day. When they'd had hope that they would make it out unscathed and they all had a bright future ahead of them. It was a time when their fragile trio was an inseparable quartet, and a small brunette with green eyes had brought laughter to all their lives.

Despite the tears underneath her eyelashes, Emily must have dozed off eventually because, the next thing she grew conscious of was sunlight adorning her face and a sharp elbow poking her in the ribs. She pushed it away before she heard Hanna hiss in her ear, "Em, wake up. Check it out."

She groaned, but slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Hanna was way on the other side of the bed and Emily was met with a slight moment of panic. Where was Spencer?

Hanna obviously wasn't concerned. Quite the obvious – she was grinning from ear to ear, motioning her side of the bed with her thumb. Emily leaned over, feeling a smile wash over her face at the sight before her.

Toby and Spencer on the single person's air mattress. He was on his back with her entirely on top of him, her head tucked under his chin. They were both still fast asleep.

"When did this happen?" Emily inquired softly.

Hanna shrugged. "No idea. I woke up and she wasn't next to me, so I looked over and…" She grinned again. "Cutest thing ever, right? We should totally take a picture."

"No, Hanna." Emily shook her head in warning. There were times when she would get annoyed by Hanna's occasional lack of sensitivity concerning Spencer's mental problems, and sometimes she believed Spencer actually appreciated that the blonde didn't walk on eggshells around her.

"Yeah, you're right." Hanna sighed, looking disappointed. "Let's not wake them up."

Emily looked back at the sleeping babes. "I wouldn't dream of it."

February

Toby's eyelids flew open, and for a moment his pupils moved back and forth across the ceiling in the bedroom. His heart beating a little faster than usual, and he tried desperately to hold onto whatever he had been dreaming as it slipped away from him. It was no use, though. He could still feel the dejection his nightmare had left behind, but not the dream itself.

Instinctively, his hand reached out across the mattress, wanting the reassurance of her softness in the night. It took him but a split second to realize she wasn't there. Sometimes it felt like he was more conscious of her whereabouts than he was of his own.

He sat up frantically, not taking the time to realize that the panic coursing through his veins might be a tad extreme. His heart rate slowed down when he spotted her silhouette sitting by the window. Not taking his eyes off her, he pushed the covers off his legs and stumbled over to her.

"Spencer?" he requested her attention softly, wanting to check her state of mind so he would know how to approach her.

She reacted slowly but instantly, and when her eyes met his he saw at once that she was lucid. Sad and somewhat pensive, but lucid.

"What are you doing up?" he questioned carefully. Noticing the goosebumps on her bare arms, he grabbed his zip-up hoodie from the back of a chair and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She didn't answer, just pushed her arms into the sleeves of his sweater as he sat himself down in front of her. She inched a little closer, so he knew she wasn't shutting him out. She swallowed, and when she spoke her voice was exceptionally raspy.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Anything." It was a reflex. It was a given. Anything she asked, he would give.

She fiddled with a loose thread of the hoodie, avoiding his gaze. There was a far-away look in her eyes that made him suddenly apprehensive of what was coming.

"It's just…" she began carefully, "I need you to promise me that if this ever becomes too much for you, if…" Her voice trembled. "If I ever become too much for you, you'll put yourself first and walk away."

He stared at her in disbelief, feeling this throat close as the impact of her words hit him full on.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know how you can stand to be around me sometimes," she cried out bitterly. "I hate that I'm like this, you deserve so much better than someone who can barely keep it together long enough to-"

"Stop it," he said sharply. "You stop that right now."

She flinched at his tone and he reached for her apologetically, but she pushed his hands away.

"You're not listening to me," she said, so quietly that he had to lean in closer to hear. "I can't bear the idea of you staying out of obligation. I can't do this if…" Her voice dropped to a whisper and she squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want you to end up resenting me…"

He stared at her, and the only movement in the room was the solitary tear making its way down his cheek. He wanted to shout at her, he wanted to shake this nonsense out of her. With all the horrible things that had happened, he had never felt this level of powerlessness before.

"I still feel so lucky, every day." He didn't know where the words were coming from but they were like a waterfall erupting from his mouth. "You still light up my life, you still make my world go round. I know you think everything is different now, but you're still Spencer Hastings. You're still smart and funny and beautiful, and I still see you and I still know who you are."

She stopped him with a gentle hand against his chest, speaking quietly through gritted teeth. "Just promise me."

"Fine!" he blasted. "I promise! But it's a completely useless promise because it will never happen. I will never fall out of love with you, and I will never get enough of you because you make me too happy. Even now, Spencer. Especially now. I thank a God I don't even believe in every day that you made it out of that cabin alive. And yes, I hate what it's done to you, but only because it kills me that you're hurting so much. Not because of the impact it's had on my life."

She was hanging on to his every word, and when his rambling came to an end they stared at each other for a moment. He didn't know who moved first, but the next thing he was aware of was that he was kissing her. He pulled her all the way into his lap and she straddled him, her fingers twisting into his hair.

"Make love to me," she breathed against his mouth. "Please, just make love to me, Toby…"

He got up without loosening his grip on her, and gently lowered her to the bed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glazed over with desire and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

The rest of the night was a blur.