A/N: All right guys! The final two chapters back to back! As promised, this will be followed by a brief epilogue. I'm also hoping to devise a sequel sometime in the future.

Please enjoy!

Chapter 21

Spencer awoke at 11 o'clock the next morning in a mildly cranky mood. The girls had all camped out on the living room floor, true to sleepover form. Ultimately, nothing had changed: she still had to unpleasantly bat Aria's feet away from her face multiple times throughout the night, and had been awoken for the final time by Hanna snoring softly right next to her ear. As much as she loved her friends, she didn't miss the sleepless nights of having them bunked next to her.

However, she knew that the alternative would have been much worse. With the amount of times she had woken up in the middle of the night to repetitive nightmares of Jeff Cody's sinister face, the company on all sides of her was comfort enough to assist her in peacefully falling back to sleep. Had she been alone, there was no telling how she would handle her torturous subconscious.

Sleepily she made her way into the kitchen, preparing the coffee pot for the four of them. As she waited for it to brew, she rifled through the notifications on her phone. With a smile, she saw that Toby had texted her, asking her to let him know when she wanted him to call. She responded, "Give me a half hour," taking the girls' slumber into consideration. When the coffee was finished, she would wake them up.

In all honesty, she hated that he was leaving. After all that had happened over the course of the past few days, she wasn't sure how much more heartbreak she could take. But she had to support him: it was his duty, and it was what he had hoped to achieve before she had come back into the picture. And there would be no way out of it. She knew enough about the military to know that one could not simply refuse to deploy. It was a stipulation of their contract. Unless Toby wanted a dishonorable discharge status on his resume for the rest of his life, there would be no stopping it. She would just have to suck it up.

Much like the incident with Cody. As much as it haunted her brain, she refused to be the girl that wallowed in self-pity over the 'what ifs' and 'what could have been'. The fact of the matter was that she fought back and was able to stop it. There was no reason to feel sorry for herself or feel perpetually frightened. The situation had been handled, and it was time to move on.

…Right?

"Smells fantastic," Hanna muttered tiredly as she entered the kitchen, rubbing at her eyes. Her hair was haphazardly sticking up in all directions, indicating that she had slept like a rock. At least one of them had.

"Nothing like a pot of coffee to start the day," Spencer agreed. It had almost finished brewing. She extracted four mugs from the cupboard and set out the cream and sugar, organizing the set-up in the most symmetrical way possible. Though it was just Emily and Aria, she wanted the display to look nice.

"Toby told you about tonight, right?" Hanna inquired as she lazily began pouring coffee into the mug she had selected.

"What about it?"

"He and Holmes are taking the four of us out to dinner tonight. The Melting Pot," Hanna quipped with a grin. "I've been wanting to go there since we moved in!"

"Oh," Spencer muttered quietly. As tempting as it sounded, she had secretly been counting on being alone with Toby for the evening.

"I'm impressed, by the way," Hanna continued, sipping on her coffee as she leaned back against the counter. "I was expecting a full-blown argument this morning about whether you got to go to class or not."

"What?" Spencer cried, her heart falling into the pit of her stomach. "Oh, my God! I completely forgot!"

Hanna rolled her eyes. "With all you went through this weekend, I'm not surprised."

Spencer looked frantically at her watch. "I can still catch my second class," she was muttering to herself, hurriedly digging through the cupboards for a travel mug to put her coffee in. Hanna turned Spencer to face her, none-t0o-gently.

"Spence," she said sternly, her voice dripping with maternal support. "Stop. You had the weekend from hell. Not to mention, your boyfriend is leaving in five days. Take a week off, for God's sake. You deserve it."

Spencer knew that she was probably right, but there was a knot in her chest that generally accompanied the anxiety of shirking responsibility. She hated missing school.

"Besides," Hanna continued, "you've already turned everything in from now until Halloween. I'm sure your instructors will let it slide."

"What about you?" Spencer demanded.

"I don't have Monday classes," Hanna pointed out. "Remember? You should – you practically made my course schedule for me…"

"True," Spencer replied thoughtfully. "This sucks, Han…I should really be there…"

"Well, you're not going," Hanna said firmly. "And that's final."

"What about Aria and Emily?" Spencer asked.

"Using sick days for today, flying out tomorrow morning for their Tuesday classes," Hanna explained impatiently. Just as Spencer opened her mouth to protest that the girls need not miss class for her, Hanna roughly continued as if predicting what she would say. "They chose to come out here to be there for you, Spence. Don't look a gift horse in the ass."

Spencer chuckled softly. "Mouth."

"What? That's gross!'

"No, that's the way the saying goes," Spencer reasoned. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"That doesn't make any sense," Hanna scoffed indignantly. "What does a horse's mouth have anything to do with it? Now looking at its ass is something you shouldn't do. Mine is better."

Spencer rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she began to prepare her own coffee. "Whatever you say, Han."

A moment of silence settled between the two of them for a minute before Hanna's face grew somber. "How are you doing today, Spence?"

"Fine," Spencer muttered. It was growing tiresome to continue answering the same question over and over again. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Hanna was well aware of the fact that Spencer was avoiding her eyes. She cleared her throat purposefully, propping herself up onto the counter. "You went through something really scary…" she began before trailing off, as if afraid to finish the sentence.

Spencer scoffed nonchalantly. "There are children in Namibia who are starving every day. That's scary. Fending off a hormonal horn dog is like a walk in the park compared to that."

"Spencer," Hanna began tiredly. "It's okay to be upset about what happened."

"Well I'm not. Okay?" Spencer stated definitively, turning her face to Hanna to look her in the eyes. "Yeah…what happened sucked. But it happens every day, all around the country. There are more important things to worry about."

"Like Toby leaving?" Hanna quipped quietly. Spencer exhaled heavily before turning away once more.

"Yeah. Things like that."

"We'll get through it," Hanna promised, reaching out to squeeze Spencer's shoulder. "I promise."

Spencer could not help but smile softly at this statement. "I know, Han. Thanks though."

Another pregnant pause followed.

"Are Emily and Aria staying here again tonight?"

"No," Hanna muttered distastefully. "They got a hotel room for tonight. Something about not wanting to impose on us, blah blah blah, yada yada yada. I tried to talk them out of it, but there was no winning."

"Seriously?" Spencer demanded. "I'm more than happy to have them here!"

"I tried to tell them that," Hanna agreed. "Trust me. I spent an hour trying to convince them otherwise. No budging."

"Frustrating brats," Spencer said with good-natured disdain.

"What did you call us?" Emily demanded jokingly as she traipsed into the kitchen, pulling her stick-straight ebony hair up into a ponytail. Spencer had always hated how Emily could sleep through an entire night and wake up still looking picture perfect. It was utterly maddening.

"Why are you leaving tonight?" Spencer asked ruefully. "You know you guys can stay…"

"We're not having this conversation again," Emily said laughingly. "Listen, the apartment is only so big…it's not fair for us to stay here again."

"You're being ridiculous," Hanna offered.

"Well, you're not changing our minds," Emily stated definitively. "Now – how about sharing some of that coffee?"

The day progressed at a much faster pace than Spencer was comfortable with. She wasn't sure when she would see Emily and Aria again after this visit, and time was not being kind to her. Likewise, it was simply swallowing up another day of Toby being home. She had the sickening, sinking feeling that this trend would continue throughout the rest of the week.

Around 3 o'clock, the girls had left. Hanna had gone with them to be sure they got settled into the hotel okay, reminding Spencer that they were meeting at The Melting Pot at 5 and that Toby would be by to pick her up.

Spencer now sat alone in the empty apartment, trying to immerse herself in a book to soften the anxiety of being left to her own creeping thoughts. She had chosen Harry Potter to read, knowing that the magical world in which the story took place was the ideal way to take her out of her own head. Goblet of Fire, in particular, was one of her very favorites, and it was the one that incidentally sat in her lap.

Now Tri-Wizard Tournaments were scary. Just like the starving children in Namibia. Harry and his cohort were putting their lives on the line for the sake of glory and a stupid trophy, fighting against the urge to give into fear. What they were accomplishing was brave – not what Spencer had endured. Totally different scenarios.

Spencer was reading contentedly about Harry's preparation for the First Task when a particular passage jumped out at her.

It's a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up.

She slammed the book shut irritably without so much as blinking. It just figured – she was using the book as a method of escapism, only to be thrust back into the bleak reality she currently faced. What was it about literature that caused that to happen so frequently? It was supposed to be about getting your head out of your own world – why did authors insist on subtly reminding you of your own fears?

Because all the greater themes of life are interwoven between fantasy and reality, she answered silently to herself, her inner voice dripping with disdain. She sighed dejectedly and sunk into a lying position on the couch. Perhaps a nap would calm her racing thoughts.

As much as she wanted to spend time with Aria and Emily, she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach once more. Try as she might to suppress the overbearing feeling of the settling depression, she was finding that it was becoming increasingly difficult to muster. She had trusted a man that she thought was her friend, and he tried to take advantage of her…And the man that she loved was leaving her in her darkest hour.

It's not his fault, she recited internally. She knew it to be true, but it did not change the fact that a small part of her resented him for it.

She curled herself up into a ball, fighting the urge to start crying again. She hated feeling sorry for herself. It was a sign of weakness – a taboo in the Hastings household since as far back as she could remember.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Before she could even consider the pros and cons of answering, it was already opening. She shot up like a bullet, a sick feeling of dread in her heart as she realized that Hanna had not locked it behind her. Her blood froze in her veins, putting her body on high alert. Instinctively, she grabbed the 740 page hardcover book she had been reading, prepared to launch it at an unwanted visitor.

"Spencer?"

It was only Toby. She tremulously lowered the book, forcing a smile for his benefit.

"Sorry," she muttered.

His blue eyes shined with intense worry. She saw that he was dressed nicely in a button-up blue shirt and black pants, looking as though he were prepared for a job interview.

"You just startled me," she continued, hoping to ease his concern. He approached her on the couch, taking a seat beside her and pulling her into his chest for a gentle hug. She smiled involuntarily as the scent of his cologne fluttered into her nostrils.

"It's almost time for dinner," he said, pulling away only slightly to survey her. "You're not even dressed."

"Oh," she began half-heartedly, extracting her body from his hold. "I don't think I'm going to go…"

"What do you mean?" Toby demanded. "You have to."

"I don't have to do anything," Spencer replied indignantly, standing. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest, praying that Toby would let it go. She did not want to spend one of his last days arguing.

Toby stood too, a certain version of panic flickering through his eyes. "Spencer, please. I organized this so that you could have a nice last night with your friends…"

"Which I appreciate," Spencer agreed. "But I'm not in the mood to go out in public. That's all."

"Should I have them come here instead?" Toby asked hurriedly.

"No," Spencer said. "Let everyone go out for dinner. It'll be nice for them."

"Spencer, what is this about?" Toby demanded worriedly as he approached her, rubbing her arms gently. "Are you afraid of your friends seeing that you're feeling something other than strong? Because you know that they will always – "

Spencer cut him off. "I'm fine," she spat irritably, pulling away from his hold.

Toby's jaw clenched in slight, indicating to Spencer that he was growing more frustrated with her by the minute. "You're not acting like it."

"I'm not one of Jenna's stupid snow globes, okay?" Spencer insisted. "I'm not going to shatter if you drop me. And you need to stop treating me like it."

"Then why don't you want to go?" Toby pressed, a hint of a growl in his voice.

"Because I don't fucking feel like it!" Spencer cried. She had attempted to keep her voice at a reasonable level for quite some time, and found that she was done trying.

"Spencer," Toby began slowly, "this is really important to me."

Her heart broke slightly at this plea. She knew that she was hurting him by refusing, but she felt that she had to stand her ground. Hadn't everybody been telling her that it was time to worry about herself? No one else? Isn't that what she was doing?

"What about what's important to me?" she demanded incredulously. Toby's face fell. He chewed meticulously on the inside of his cheek, as if trying to formulate a viable response. He did not speak, nor did he indicate that she was right. She found herself annoyed that the wheels were still turning in his head in spite of her wishes. The conversation should have been over right then and there.

Suddenly, despite how much she loved him, she had no desire to be around him any longer. "I'm going to go take a shower," she stated harshly, marching down the hallway and grabbing her robe from the linen closet. She did not look back at him, but could feel his eyes burning into the rear of her skull. "You can show yourself out. Lock it behind you." With that, she yanked the bathroom door shut more violently than she had intended.

How dare he try to make her do something she didn't want to? Did she not just go through a situation just like that? If everybody thought she was so delicate, why would they remind her of the things that were hurting her the most? She knew their intentions were inevitably kinder than Cody's had been, but it didn't change the fact that she was feeling a particular need to make a spectacle of her own independence. Making her own decisions was very important to her right now. She didn't like to be pushed. Wasn't Toby the one who was supposed to understand that?

She climbed into the shower, certain to turn the water to one of the hottest settings. She lived for scalding showers that would burn away the hurt and anger in her soul.

He was pounding on the door. "Spencer. Come on."

"No," she stated definitively, striving to make her point known. Admittedly, there was a part of her that wanted to open the door to him and rush into his arms, apologizing for being stubborn. However, a bigger part of her was afraid to give in. That part of her was also sheepishly aware of the development of twisted logic: that if she was angry with him, it might be easier to watch him go…

"Spencer…"

"GO AWAY!" she hollered, her voice involuntarily cracking as she did so. She didn't want him to go away…that was the opposite of what she wanted. That was the whole problem…

And then, for the first time, he conceded. She heard the muffled sound of angry footsteps marching away from the bathroom door. He was leaving.

The tears stung in her eyes as she realized that this was the one command she had secretly wanted him to violate. She didn't want him to go away…She needed him to stay. She knew it extended past just today – she wanted him to stay here. Home. In Ann Arbor. Where he belonged. The idea of him leaving for four months was breaking her heart…

Once she was certain he was truly gone, she choked out a despondent sob. She frustrated herself with how ridiculous she was being, but she couldn't help it. She was in pain…and she had no idea how to make it go away.

Ironic, wasn't it? – The things she needed to stay were going away, and the things she wanted to leave were insistent upon sticking around.

She unwillingly broke down into tears under the stream of water, wishing for anything but the harsh reality that surrounded her.