A/N: Final chapter before the epilogue! There's a longer author's note at the end of the chapter. You'll understand why when you're done reading.

Thank you to all the lovely humans who reviewed. I've run out of words to express my gratitude. And that's saying something, since – in case you hadn't noticed – I kind of like words. A lot.

May

Toby accelerated, pushing through an intersection just as the traffic lights turned red. It was a far cry from his usual laid-back driving style, but these were extenuating circumstances. His heart pounded in his chest as he recalled Veronica Hastings' distraught voice over the phone.

"Nothing's working," she said, obviously agitated. "We've tried everything, Toby. Everything you said. She's lost and she won't come back."

He had dropped his tools and yelled for his buddy to cover for him. He didn't bother checking with his boss first. They knew of his "situation" as they called it (Toby always cringed inwardly at the word), and were understanding for the most part. It could be a lot worse, anyway.

He shoved the truck in park and shamelessly ran up the stairs to the loft. Pushing through the door, he spotted Peter and Veronica standing close to each other and speaking in frantic whispers. He had left Spencer with her father this morning, so the only reason he could think of as to why Veronica was here was that Peter had called her for help before she called Toby.

"Oh thank God," Veronica said with obvious relief, but Toby paid her no mind. His eyes were already looking past the woman, desperately in search of the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl that made his heart beat faster. Both in the best way and in the way that made him feel like he was about to have a coronary.

He easily found her, huddled in a heap in the corner of the living room, her face unnaturally close to the wall. Reflexively, he started over to her, but Veronica held him back with a tug at his arm.

"Toby, wait. You should know… She won't let us near her. She screams like nothing I've ever heard when we try to get close."

"What happened?" he demanded, worry making his voice harsher than he meant.

Veronica looked at Peter, who dejectedly began recounting the events.

"We were watching some stupid thing on TV when all of a sudden there was a scene with a parrot…"

He didn't finish, and Toby felt his stomach roll as if he were about to vomit. For hours on end, Spencer had listened to Tippy the bird ramble and sing, all the while witnessing how unspeakable things were being done to her best friend by someone they had both trusted.

He took a deep breath, telling himself he could cry and throw things later. Right now his first priority was to piece back together the strongest person he knew.

Veronica and Peter watched as he threw his jacket on a nearby dresser and slowly approached the wreck of a girl.

"Spence?" he called in a hushed voice from across the room. "It's me. I'm gonna come closer, okay? Just let me know how close you want me to come."

She didn't react in the least, but he seemed to expect this and started taking slow steps in her direction. After only two or three, she tensed noticeably and pressed closer to the wall.

"Okay," he said gently. "I'm just gonna sit right here for now." He dropped down to the floor and crossed his legs, Indian style. He waited a moment before continuing. "I missed you. I missed you all day, and I can't wait to hold you in my arms and kiss you and smell your hair…"

He proceeded to tell her about what must have been their first couple of weeks together. Spencer showed no sign of hearing him, but that didn't seem to faze him as he took his walk down memory lane. Under different circumstances, Veronica might have been scandalized at the stories coming out of Toby's mouth, accounts she realized with horror that she had absolutely no knowledge of. She felt her husband tense up next to her when Toby recounted how they had slept next to each other in a motel room, half naked, when Spencer was only sixteen years old and they barely knew each other.

After several stories, he announced that he was coming a little closer. He checked for her reaction first, and when she didn't show any signs of discomfort he scooted forward painfully slowly, until he once again went rigid. He stopped instantly.

"It's okay, you know," he said soothingly. "I know that deep down, you know who I am. And I know you'll come back to me. I'll be right here. I'll always be here to remind you of who you are, even when…" He broke off, obviously too overcome with emotion to continue right away. He cleared his throat. "Even when you don't know yourself."

His next story was about how she had bought him a truck. Again, this was breaking news to Veronica, who had eyed that truck with disdain on multiple occasions, finding it filthy and wondering if it was even safe. She had watched Spencer run up to it happily, when he used to pick her up for school. It would be parked outside their fence when she came home from work. But she never knew it was her money that had paid for it.

And so it went on. He would recount instances of their past together, all happy times (Veronica knew they had gone through some devastating occurrences as well, even Before, but he didn't mention those), until her shoulders relaxed somewhat, and then he inched closer – always informing her he would be doing so first. He stopped immediately whenever her body tensed up again, usually after a foot or two. The process was agonizingly slow, and she felt Peter growing increasingly restless beside her.

"This isn't working," he muttered in her ear. "I told you we should have just called her doctor."

"And what would be the point of that?" she snapped back, careful to keep her voice down. "So they can sedate her and drown her pain in medication?"

It was something they disagreed on. Peter found it outrageous that Spencer wasn't on any kind of medication – anti-anxiety, or anti-hallucinations, or both. It was Toby who was adamantly against it, claiming that they would just be numbing the part of her that was still here if they stuffed her with pills. Veronica felt caught in the middle, but eventually put her foot down and sided with Toby. She had to trust that he knew what was best for her, and so far his instincts had never been wrong.

"Just let him do his thing," she went on, making an effort to even out her tone. "He's getting there. It just might take a while."

Toby was currently telling the story of how he had built her a rocking chair, and Veronica felt ridiculous relief that she at least knew this one. It was back when she was still more than a little weary of her youngest child's choice of boyfriend. Even if she no longer believed he was dangerous, she couldn't help but privately feel that her brilliant, beautiful daughter could do so much better than a kid who was clearly going nowhere in life.

Now, she was deeply ashamed at how wrong she had been. How she had judged him for not wearing designer clothes, for not coming from a respectable family or having any desire to go to college. Veronica felt infinitely grateful that despite her own privileged background, Spencer had looked past all that. Spencer had seen the gentle heart behind his quiet eyes and introverted nature, and it had made her unshakably loyal to him from the get-go.

Her was sitting only a few feet away from her now, and Veronica held her breath as he scooted closer again. Spencer let him come up all the way to her this time, close enough to touch her – but his hands remained patiently at his sides. Veronica marveled at this boy's ability to so effortlessly put his own needs second to hers. She could tell how every part of him wanted to reach out for her… but he didn't, and Veronica could only conclude it was because he knew she wasn't ready. One wrong move could send him back across the room in the blink of an eye, and if he had to start this whole process over, it would shatter what had yet to be whole in the first place.

He spoke extra quietly now, undoubtedly because of his close proximity to her. "It's safe here. I promise. Nothing can hurt you while I'm around." He let this sink in before continuing. "And after you come back, we'll lay on the couch and get take-out and watch Disney movies. I'll touch your hair, like this…"

Ever so slowly, his hand went up, always staying in her line of vision. He brushed

a few long curls away from her neck, and when she didn't so much as flinch he gently cupped the side of her face. She leaned her head into his touch and her eyes closed.

"Toby," she whispered.

"Yeah, baby." He sniffled. "It's me."

"Toby!" she said again, with an inane urgency present in her voice. In one smooth movement he had pulled her into his embrace. She fell against him and dissolved into tears, and slowly he rocked her back and forth.

"I'm sorry…" she wept.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he murmured reassuringly into her hair. His voice sounded warm and steady, but Veronica could see a few tears slip from his eyes.

"I knew you were here," she spoke desperately through her own tears. "I just didn't know how to…"

"It's okay," he shushed her gently. "I wasn't worried. I knew you'd find your way back to me."

Nothing more was said between them. He held her for a long time – long after she stopped crying. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.

Veronica and Peter slipped into the kitchen unnoticed. They went to work silently, emptying the dishwasher and cleaning up the mess in the sink. They both wanted to say goodbye to their daughter before he they left, but right now taking her away from the arms of her loved one was out of the question.

"You were right," Peter told his wife suddenly. "He does know what he's doing."

Veronica abruptly stopped wiping the countertop and threw the rag down. "We missed so much, Peter. We took for granted that she would always be around, that she would always be Spencer, and we missed so many opportunities to be near her, to spend time with her…" She shook her head. "It happened while she was still under our roof. I'm her mother; I should be the one to help her when no one else can. I carried her, I gave birth to her, I was the first person to hold her…"

Veronica realized with alarm that after all these months, she was finally breaking down. She hadn't shed a tear since being called to the hospital last summer. She'd told herself that crying never helped anyone, and that Spencer needed for someone to stay strong amidst this nightmare.

But now it was as if all these repressed emotions were ganging up on her, rendering her a blubbering mess. Her husband had never exactly excelled at dealing with emotions – his own or anyone else's – so she turned her back to him, ashamed, not wanting him to see. She was surprised when he reached around her and squeezed her arm.

June

Spencer's fingers twitched nervously against Toby's leg, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed jittery but determined, leaning back against the leather seat of his truck. They hadn't spoken much since driving off. Part of him was still convinced it was a terrible idea, but she had asked it of him, and never for the life of him would he ever be able to say no to her.

The ride came to its end sooner than he was prepared for. He turned to her, hyper alert for any sign of discomfort on her part. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to get her out of here.

"You sure about this?" he asked faintly.

Inhaling deeply, she nodded without looking at him. "I'm sure."

They got out of the truck, and she instinctively slipped her hand in his as they slowly walked through the gates of the graveyard. He squeezed her fingers reassuringly, trying to wordlessly convey that if this was what she wanted, he would be with her every step of the way.

It didn't take them very long to locate the tombstone they had come for. She was shaking noticeably by now, and several times Toby half-expected her to turn to him and beg him to take her home, but she just kept placing one foot in front of the other. He wondered why he still let himself be caught off guard by the depth of her strength and bravery.

Aria Marie Montgomery
March 1994 – July 2012

This was a life that had hardly begun

No time to find your place in the sun

No time to do all you could have done

But we loved you enough for a lifetime.

Spencer's knees gave out from under her, and Toby reflexively reached out to grab her and ease her down to the ground. Large tears were rolling down her cheeks, and with trembling hands she laid the flowers she'd picked earlier on the grave. Only now did Toby notice she had written something on the card.

You were little, but you were big. I'll always remember Team Sparia. – Spencer.

He reached out and stroked her hair, but she shook her head. He understood, even if it broke his heart. Sometimes he convinced himself that she would feel the loss of her friend less profoundly if he just loved her enough. If he held her close and tried to feel the pain for her.

But he always knew deep down that it didn't work that way. His sorrow would never run as deep. Not that he didn't feel grief over the tiny, cheerful girl; not that is wasn't absolutely maddening that a person could cease to exist over the course of a mere second, leaving the world around her in utter desolation. But he knew he would never feel it as devastatingly as Spencer did.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and for a moment he was sure she was about to collapse into an episode. But then he watched her shake head in defiance, instinctively latching on to his shirt for support, and he felt a surge of hope. She was starting to fight them now, rebel against them, chase them away. A lot of the time it was in vain, but maybe… He dared to hope that maybe, one day, she would be free.

"It feels wrong to breathe with her gone," she spoke, and he barely recognized her voice. It was broken beyond anything he'd ever heard before. "To eat, to sleep, to smile."

He carefully peeled her hand from his shirt and brought it to his lips. "I hear what you're saying," he answered softly, still terrified she would stumble into her private world of horrors, "but she would have wanted you to enjoy these things. Not feel guilty over them."

Her lower lip trembled as she lowered her eyes, more tears making their path down her pale cheeks.

"You're so brave, Spence." He fought to keep his own voice from breaking. "Not a day goes by that I'm not in awe of you."

She shook her head slowly. "She was the brave one. She… she saved my life. Did you know that?"

Startled into silence, he shook his head. How could he know that? She had never spoken a word about it, and he had certainly never pried.

"He said it was time for her to prove that he was the person she was closest to," she continued. Her voice was shaking, but considering she was finally recounting her terrors for the very first time, he couldn't consider this anything less than a victory. "He'd wanted Ali dead since forever, and I guess I was nothing more than collateral damage. He wanted her to do it, and then they would run away together." She shook her head, as if still aghast at how this man's brain had worked. "She lost it, screamed that he was sick in the head. And that's when he snapped."

Ezra Fitz. One of the most popular teachers at Rosewood High, and a trusted member of the community, with boyish hazel eyes and a winning smile. No one had had even the slightest clue that there lived a monster inside him. Toby's skin crawled when he thought about how many times Spencer had been alone with him prior to that fateful night last July.

"I screamed, Toby," she lamented, "I screamed until my voice was raw. Someone must have heard, why didn't they…?"

"The cabin was sound-proofed," he hastened to explain, feeling angry that no one had thought to tell her this. He couldn't imagine the sense of abandonment she must have felt, how she had to have concluded that the world around them simply didn't care that they were dying. How her last bit of faith in humanity must have dissipated into nothingness.

"How did...?" he started, but then quickly shut his mouth. He told himself not to be selfish. Just because he had questions didn't mean she was up to answering them.

"It's okay." She sounded exhausted, like she had just run a marathon. "You can ask me anything. You've been so patient…"

He eyed her carefully, making sure she meant what she said. He would rather spend his whole life in the dark than ask her to dredge up memories that caused her unnecessary pain. She didn't owe him anything, but her open gaze told him she was as willing as she would ever be to talk about it.

"How did Alison manage to get out of there?" he asked hesitantly.

Something flashed in her eyes, something akin to anger. He welcomed it. Anything to distract her from the gnawing pain that haunted her every minute she was awake, and even sometimes when she slept.

"He'd locked me and Alison in the storage room in the back, while he still hoping to convince Aria to…" She swallowed and didn't finish. "We managed to force a window open, just far enough for her to crawl through. She… she tried to get me to come with her but…" Spencer squeezed her eyes shut and more tears rolled down her face. "I couldn't leave Aria." Her eyes flew back open and met his desperately. "I thought it would be okay, that Ali would get us help. I told her to get us help…"

Toby pushed his free hand through his hair in silent fury. In her panicked state – torn between the lure of safety and her best friend still on the dangerous side of the door – Spencer had made a colossal error in judgment. For a moment, she had considered Alison to be one of them again, one piece of a five-way friendship that was based on loyalty above anything else.

Alison had eventually called for help… but not before making sure her own hide was safe first. And Spencer had watched the blond girl run away, never to be seen again, before being dragged into the main area of the cabin and set up to witness the ghastly events that would alter her life forever.

"I should tell her parents," Spencer said after a moment of quiet, sounding defeated, and he realized she was talking about Aria again. "I should have told them months ago, how her sacrifice saved me. It's just… I couldn't even think about it, let alone find the words to…"

He squeezed her hand. There was so much he wanted to say, and he struggled to organize his thoughts long enough to verbalize them. In his mind it was all so simple. But to hers, it might need some careful articulation and gentle convincing.

"She saved your life so you could live it, Spencer. She would have wanted you to grieve her, and then find a way to move on. I'm not saying forget about her," he said quickly when he saw her mouth open to protest. "I'm saying let the memory of her make you stronger, because having known her makes your life richer even if she's not here anymore."

Her eyes were still wet, but she held on to every word he said. Captivated, Toby thought. That's what she was.

"There's so much evil in this world," she murmured without an ounce of bitterness. Her tone seemed almost matter-of-fact. "So much pure, unmingled evil." Her gaze held his in that same intense look. "But there's also so much good. You show me that every day. And I've realized… I can't hate a world you live in. Not that I haven't tried."

He gave her a shaky smile. He had tried that too, once upon a time. Back when he was a lanky, shaggy-haired kid that was hated by everyone, himself most of all. His life back then had been a blur of disappointment and almost numbing loneliness, and he had felt sure beyond any shred of doubt that it would always be that way. He would be alone for the rest of his life, in every sense of the word, because it wasn't as if anyone would ever want him.

But then, on a day much like the previous and the one before that, she had showed up on his doorstep. He still remembered it like it was yesterday – her big, expressive eyes and her silky hair tied up in a bun with just a few of her shorter curls framing her porcelain face. He remembered how she was nothing like he expected her to be. She had allowed herself to be surprisingly vulnerable around him, and her delightfully witty sense of humor had made him smile for the first time in weeks.

He'd heard what she was saying just now. It was the reason she couldn't bear to be away from him on her withdrawn days, why only he could bring her solace when the universe seemed too nasty to even get out of bed in the morning. She was saying that he was her reminder of everything good in this world. She was saying that he had saved her from herself.

But the truth was… she'd saved him first. She had given him the single most precious gift one human being can give another. She had given him a will to live.

"You ready to go?" he requested gently, long after her tears had finally dried up and she looked somewhat peaceful.

She hesitated, as if leaving would be the same thing as failing her best friend all over again, through her eyes.

"We can come back anytime you want," he was quick to assure her. "This isn't goodbye forever."

This seemed to give her the strength to get up. He followed suit, remaining rooted in his spot when he saw she wasn't making any move to actually walk away. Her eyes flickered across the tombstone, and when he spoke her voice was so soft he didn't immediately grasp what she said.

"You'll always be with me, tiny goose."

She turned to him, wrapping both arms around his waist from the side. His arms automatically moved across her in response, his lips burying into her hair, and together they walked away.

As awful as today had been, Toby realized now that it was an important and even necessary step in her road to recovery. She had spent so much time trying to avoid thinking of her petite friend for fear of having her mind yanked away from reality, that she never went through a healthy mourning process. The fact that she had taken the steps on her own to come here, to confront herself with a place that would undoubtedly bring back so many painful memories, confirmed what he had been starting to suspect for a while now. She was no longer sitting idly by as her demons dictated how she lived her life. She was fighting like hell to put together the pieces of her shattered mind, and restore order to her world. He wasn't saving her. She was saving herself.

There was no telling if he would still feel this way tomorrow, or even later today, but for now their future looked like a long, open road.

A/N: Please know that I have nothing against Ezra or the Aria/Ezra pairing. I just wanted it to be extremely personal, and I also needed a plausible reason as to why Spencer escaped Aria's fate. With what we knew at the time, Ezra seemed like the ideal candidate for a sociopathic personality disorder. For those of you who ship Ezria: I really hope I didn't ruin my own story for you. And if I did, please don't hate me.

The poem on Aria's tombstone is by Mary Varnall. I found it online and thought it was beautiful and perfect for Aria.

Spencer's nickname for Aria – "tiny goose" – is something I stole straight from the great Troian Bellisario herself. She called Lucy Hale that on Instagram once, and I shamelessly stole it because I could soooo picture Spencer calling Aria that. Yes, I am a huge dork.

Also… I've been dying to know – what did y'all think of the finale? Anyone who wants to discuss it and maybe swap theories: PM me. Oh and if you know of any remedies for PLL withdrawal symptoms: also PM me. :)