A/N: Well I'm a dirty little liar. Or – a pretty little liar, if you prefer! I said several times that only a couple more chapters were in the making. However, I changed my mind as to how I want to end the story. So we're still looking at two-ish more. Yay!

I appreciate all of the feedback you guys have given me! Thanks so much for all your kindness and support! Some of you have had some really great suggestions, and I'd like to hear more! I'd be interested to see what you guys would like to have happen before we wrap up, and try to work the angle in. I aim to please, after all :-)

Happy reading!

CHAPTER 19

Toby awoke to a pounding in his head, not unlike the one he had been enduring for the past several days. He did a quick once-over of his surroundings, remembering that he had fallen asleep beside Spencer in her bed. The pink and purple lights that seeped through the curtain alerted him to the hour: they had spent much of the day sleeping, and now the sun was beginning to set once more.

He studied her sleeping figure carefully, taking note of the bruises that had formed around her wrists and collarbone. He silently seethed with anger, vaguely wishing that Holmes had not extracted him from the fight with Cody. No amount of pain could possibly be enough after what he did.

He heard sounds echoing from the kitchen down the hall, as well as the drone of muffled voices. Gingerly removing his arm from beneath Spencer's body, he quietly lifted himself from the bed and left the room. Hanna and Holmes were in the kitchen, talking in feverish undertones.

"You have to wait until the water boils," Holmes was explaining exasperatedly, attempting to reach around Hanna to take control of the pot on the stove. She stubbornly batted him away.

"I can read, thank you."

"Then why are you trying to pour the noodles in already?" Holmes demanded.

"Because you're rushing me!" she declared indignantly. "I can only do one thing at a time, you know!"

Holmes stepped backward, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. Toby smirked softly to himself as he leaned his body against the dining room wall, unnoticed.

"Fine!" Holmes spat. "If you don't need my help, then I won't bother."

"Good!" she agreed. "Finally, you learn to take a hint!"

Holmes grumbled to himself under his breath. "You're insufferable."

"Same to you," she replied uncertainly, as if unsure of what the word meant. "Make yourself useful and get me the spaghetti sauce."

Holmes rolled his eyes, digging through the paper grocery bags that they had evidently returned with recently. He emptied all of them in their entirety before staring at Hanna with incredulity.

"Where's the sauce, Hanna?" he demanded, deadpan.

"Oh for goodness sake!" Hanna cried, pushing past him to thumb through all of the purchases. She faltered in slight as she realized that his sneaking suspicions were on target.

"You forgot to get sauce. Didn't you?"

"It's not my fault," she defended. "If you hadn't been hurrying me out of the store, then I wouldn't have – "

"Are you really blaming this on me?" Holmes said, baffled.

"Oh, fine! I forgot! It was my bad!" Hanna conceded. "Happy now? Can you please go get some?"

Holmes was muttering under his breath about 'women' and 'neediness,' reaching for his jacket on the dining room chair, when he noticed Toby.

"Cavanaugh," he stated definitively. A clatter from inside the fridge alerted Toby that Hanna had also heard this greeting. She rushed over, looking harried.

"Cooking something?" Toby asked sarcastically. Hanna and Holmes both looked sheepishly at one another.

"Well," Hanna began, "after the day that you've both had…we thought we'd do something nice."

Toby's heart swelled with appreciation. He offered a gentle smile to them both.

"Thanks guys. I am getting hungry…"

"Well, not to worry. It won't be much longer now," Hanna said happily. She shot a pointed look at Holmes. "As long as we can get our hands on some sauce…"

"All right, all right, I'm going!" he muttered. "Be back in a bit." With that, he was out the door.

Toby lowered himself into one of the seats, enjoying the slightly entertaining sight of Hanna impatiently sweeping her frizzy hair from her face. She was studying the box of noodles intently, biting on her thumbnail, as if trying to make sense of ancient Hieroglyphics. She seemed to notice that he was watching her, for she turned and offered a small smile of embarrassment.

"Sorry…I don't cook much…"

"I got the impression," he chuckled.

Hanna turned the burner's knob down to slow the boiling process before taking a seat beside Toby.

"How is she?" she asked softly.

Toby paused. He wasn't quite sure, himself.

"Sleeping," he answered honestly. "I think after she feels more well-rested she'll be in better shape."

Hanna nodded distantly as she patted him supportively on the hand, an indiscernible emotion flickering through her eyes. Toby surveyed her carefully.

"Hanna," he began, distinctly ignoring the sinking feeling in his heart that cried out in warning. "What – what did she tell the officer?"

Hanna did not look up to meet his eyes. Instead, she was playing with the hem of her cardigan, as if searching for a reasonable reply.

"I don't think you want to hear it, Toby," she decided at last.

"I need to," he argued. "I need to know what exactly happened…"

"What good will that do?" Hanna asked somberly, raising her head. She still avoided his eyes, however, and was concentrating her gaze on the pot of simmering water. "I think we've reached the point where details will only cause more harm."

"I can guarantee you, what I've been picturing in my head is worse," Toby countered. "If I knew what really happened…I could have some closure."

Hanna was chewing so hard on her bottom lip that she had drawn blood. Toby appraised her face, awaiting her response.

"He wanted to come in after dinner," she began vaguely. "He was drunk. He admitted to lying about all the things he had said about you…He asked to go to her room with her."

Toby's eye twitched involuntarily.

"She told him no. He got angry…He pinned her to the couch…She tried to fight back…" Hanna was speaking now as if she were on autopilot, her eyes traveling to a far-off place that exceeded her own apartment. "He just got more rough. He pushed her shirt up…Started trying to kiss her…When she stopped struggling he stopped holding onto her. She kneed him and ran."

Toby's fists were clenching and unclenching themselves without his control. His blood was boiling at a faster rate than the water had reached, and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears.

"But that's as far as he got," Hanna quipped, turning to face him at last. She seemed to have finally returned to reality. "It could have gone further…it could have been worse."

"Yeah," Toby replied distantly. He knew she was right…But it didn't hurt any less.

She sighed dramatically. "I told you that you probably didn't want to know."

"No," he protested. "No…You're right. It could have been worse."

Hanna was the one staring at him now, as he avoided her eyes. She comfortingly kneaded small circles on his back with her hand.

"Spencer is strong," she offered. "And so are you. You'll both get through this."

"I'm deploying in six days," Toby blurted. Hanna's pseudo-massage ceased instantly.

"Did you tell her?"

"Yeah."

Hanna used her free hand to scratch the back of her neck thoughtfully. "How did she take it?"

Toby shrugged indifferently. "Strong. Like always."

She smiled softly in response. "That's our Spencer…"

He nodded, considering all that his departure would entail. He sighed dejectedly. "I just wish there was something I could do – something really fantastic – that would give her hope while I'm gone."

"You'll think of something," Hanna decided. "You've always been a hopeless romantic."

He chuckled slightly. To some degree it was true – but only when it came to Spencer, certainly. "I just hate hurting her all over again…" He looked to Hanna for unspoken guidance, finding it difficult to articulate what he needed to hear. She seemed to pick up on this cue, for she began rubbing his back once more.

"You guys have gotten through worse," she provided. "I know how much she loves you. Everything will be okay."

Toby could not formulate a coherent reply. He settled for patting Hanna on the knee appreciatively. They sat in silence for a moment before Holmes burst back through the door.

"They were all out of the garlic blend you wanted," he was saying as he rubbed his hands together to generate warmth, the plastic bag slung around his wrist. His face fell as soon as he approached them.

"Oh, no," he muttered. "What happened this time?"

"Nothing," Hanna chirped, smiling broadly for his benefit as she took the bag from him. "Thanks!" She practically skipped back into the kitchen to continue her meal.

Holmes looked uncertainly from Toby to Hanna, as if trying to discern what had happened when he was gone. Toby followed Hanna's lead, also offering a forced smile. Holmes seemed to give up at last, shrugging and taking a seat opposite Toby.

"How are you, man?" he asked sincerely. Toby sighed.

"Better now that he's gone," he replied. It was some version of the truth, at least.

"Aren't we all?" Holmes stated with a scoff. Toby was silently grateful for Holmes's unfaltering loyalty.

"You should go wake her up soon," Hanna decided as she began stirring the noodles into the water. "This will be done in about ten minutes."

"Yeah…Okay," Toby responded half-heartedly. He studied Hanna's meal preparation once more, taking note of something he had not before.

"Hanna," he began, watching as she poured three boxes of spaghetti noodles into the gigantic pot of boiling water. "Are you planning on feeding the entire building?"

Hanna grinned mischievously, exchanging a knowing glance with Holmes, who chuckled slightly.

"Hanna," he demanded pointedly. "What's going on?"

"I'm cooking for six," Hanna quipped happily as she began the process of warming the sauce.

"Six?"

Hanna and Holmes looked at one another again. Hanna tapped her fingernails excitedly on the countertop, as if ready to burst at any given moment. At last she dramatically turned to face Toby with enthusiasm.

"You can't tell Spencer," she disclaimed. Toby mimed the action of zipping his lips and tossing away a key. Hanna looked nervously over Toby's shoulder, as if checking for Spencer eavesdropping. "Emily and Aria will be getting here any minute."

"Seriously?" Toby asked, caught off-guard. Somehow that was the furthest theory from his mind.

"Yeah!" Hanna cried happily. "You see…I called them both earlier to tell them a little about what happened…" A dark emotion flickered through her eyes, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. "They both wanted to fly out to see her. They thought some girl time would be good for her. And I agree."

Toby smiled a little. It was one of the only genuine smiles he had experienced over the course of the day. He knew Hanna was right – the surprise would be a great relief to Spencer, who thrived off the support she gleaned from her friends.

"I think she'll really like that," he confirmed. Hanna squealed softly in excitement, returning to her task of cooking. Toby considered Spencer's reaction, thinking warmly of how appreciative she would be.

And then, the proverbial light bulb illuminated the cloud in his brain.

"Hanna?" he asked suddenly. "Can I ask you a favor?"

CONT'D