Some Things Stay The Same

Chapter 13

"Spencer, what are you even looking for?" He asks finally. He has been watching her rummage through cabinets in her basement, for the past fifteen minutes.

She had texted him nearly twenty minutes ago, saying, "Okay, come over now (:. Just walk in, I'm in the basement." He listened to his girlfriend's instructions and came to her house, and down to her basement. He was quite curious of it all, he had only been in the Hastings' basement once, and that was to find some candles, after a early summer storm black out. He didn't think the Hastings' normally used their basement. Then again they didn't really use half the space in their house. Their basement was basically suitable for living in. It was quite large, and had a kitchen and bar area. They had pure leather couches, and a plasma TV in one corner. And a bookshelf, and a leather recliner in the other corner. In another room of the basement was also a washing and dryer machine, which they probably only used when the one up stairs wasn't working.

When he first got to the Hastings house, he practically rushed downstairs to see his girlfriend, due to her long classes and her finals coming up; he hadn't seen her in a few long days.

Yes, he was supposed to hate her and all, but he just couldn't. They had told him to get his feelings under lock and key so many times, but he didn't know how. Besides, Spencer owned the key to his heart, as cheesy as it sounds, she's the only one that is in control of his heart. No matter how hard he tries, she always will be.

When he got there although, she just pecked him on the lips, and then continued to search through various cabinets. She had ignored his 'Spencer, what are you doing?' and 'Um Spence?' She seemed pretty focused, as usual. When she was determined to do something, there was no stopping her. "Spencer," He practically whined, taking a seat on the ground next to her, "What are you doing?" He asked lightly with arched eyebrows. He took her hands, so she would stare at him.

"I'm looking scrabble." She sighed, closing the cabinet, and twisting her body towards her boyfriend. To this, he gave her questionable look. "I want a rematch." She smirked.

"You do realize you're insane, right?" He chuckles at her, watching her step up to explore through the other various cabinets in her basement.

She whipped her head back with a giggle, "Then I guess that means you're a little crazy too, since you're dating me."

"Yeah," He grinned. "I guess I am."

He looked at the old scrabble board with a heavy sigh. It was the same scrabble board that they played the night at the motel. They ended up playing it again, that afternoon at her house. He won, again, which made her pout, and grouch about how the game is rigged. She ended up giving him the game, saying how he can have it, because something has to be wrong with it. She probably thinks that he just threw it into a closet, and never saw it again, but it held so much meaning to him. It wasn't just some old scrabble board, that was apparently 'rigged', it was one of the things that lead up to the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him: their relationship.

He kept it after all these years. He brought it to local book stores, and would play with mostly elderly men. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost. But, nevertheless he always thought of her. This scrabble board was a symbol of their relationship. He could never get rid of it.

He held on to other things of hers too. Mostly, stupid things, like a scarf she had left at his loft once, and he never got to return. And her essay she wrote about him. It wasn't all about him, but a portion. It was about the most important people in her life. She told him how she was never good with expressing her self, but the letter said it all. She gave him this sheet of paper, that she poured her heart out on, and it made him want to die. In her essay, she had said so many nice, incredible, loving things about him. Most of which weren't exactly true, like that he was honest, and genuine. He was the exact opposite of that. He had to hold in his tears when he read it, knowing that she cared about him that much, was perhaps worse, than not knowing how she really felt. The questioning in his own head about whether or not she loved him, was better than knowing she loved him for real, and knowing how badly he was actually hurting her.

Then there was the truck. It didn't feel right driving around in it, he felt like it was so sacred, because of all the memories piled within it and just the fact that Spencer gave it to him. He felt like he wasn't worthy of it—like he wasn't worthy of Spencer. Which he wasn't. Every time he drove in it, he just felt worse about himself. But, he could never fully get rid of it, so he gave it to his cousin. At least he knew that it would be in good hands.

Toby had been renovating his loft for six hours straight now. Whenever he wanted to take his mind of something, he worked. He thinks he caught on to this habit, from his beloved Spencer, which makes him work ever harder.

That's why he goes around buying crappy lofts. He renovates them, and repaints them, and does everything he can to make them look incredible. Then he sells them, and moves on to another crappy place, to tear apart, and rebuild. It's a cycle, that he started around three years ago. It takes his mind off things for a while, but ultimately it doesn't help much. It's just a temporary solution, for what seems like, a permanent problem.

Right now, he was trying to take his mind of the little boy who went by the name of Noah. He called Spencer is 'mommy'. And while it's all possible, he has absolute no connection with Noah, there's something inside him that tells him he does.

He wanted to ask Spencer, but the idea that she would actually tell him, was outrageous. Why would she tell him the truth, when he kept the truth from her for so long?

He felt like a coward, for the probably the thousandth time in his life. If this really was his son, maybe he could prove to Spencer, that he has changed, and that he was honest about everything he told her. He closed the cardboard box, and stood up. He was going to find some answers, and not be a coward, for probably the first time in his life.

He probably should have called, or at least texted her—but, he didn't. Now, he was in front of her door, not even knowing if she was home. It was pretty late too, going on six pm, and who's to say she's even home. Nevertheless, he swallowed his nerves, and pounded on the door.

The door opened after three knocks, and there stood Spencer, and he was grateful that it wasn't Hanna "Hi," He spoke nervously, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.

"Um, hi." Spencer says, giving him a questionable look.

"Look, I know I should have called, or something, but can we please talk." He pleads.

Spencer stands in the door way for a moment. Her face washed with confliction, and nervousness. She bites her lip, glancing back into her apartment. "Okay," She says apprehensively, letting her eyes find Toby's again. She slips on her shoes, and steps out of her apartment to join Toby in the hall.

The two make their way down the hallway, and out of the apartment building all together, without another word. The tension is obviously awkward it, and it reminds him, of how they use to act around each other. So guarded, and both of their walls built up so high, that neither could see each other for who they really were.

"Do you think Jenna will still be upset when you go back home?" Spencer asks after awhile of silence. The two sat in the motel room, awaiting for something to happen in the room 214. Toby was docked out at the window, peeping out of the curtains, and Spencer was sitting on the bed, fidgeting with the ends of her tie.

Toby knows Jenna will be upset, but he honestly doesn't care. He actually likes Spencer, she isn't all so bad. She isn't like Alison. He would pick Spencer over Jenna any day, which was a weird thing to say, considering that he once hated Spencer almost as much as he hates Alison. "Probably." He mumbled with a small shrug, turning around to face her.

"She doesn't like that you're helping me," Spencer says with all certainty.

"Not at all." He tells her with a small hint of a smile, sitting on the edge of the bed, and looking into those signature mocha eyes. Whenever he looked at them, he just had an urge to kiss her. She made his heart go ten times faster, and his mind go fuzzy. He felt weird around her. He hasn't felt this way about any one in a while, and he doesn't know how to quite deal with it. Mona told him to get close with her, but he didn't know why. He didn't understand why she needed so much information about these girls. Although, He did know it probably wasn't the best idea to kiss her, but that didn't stop him from thinking about kissing her.

"Then why are you even helping me," She stifled a laugh, her voice hinted with a sudden lightness. She ducks her head down, and flattens out her tie, to her chest. "I mean, I just..." She gulped peering up at him. "It's nice of you and everything, but if it's just causing more trouble with Jenna.." her voice trails.

"I told you, my parents will be back Monday, and it'll be alright." He tells her.

"Well, thanks." She smiles.

"Yeah," He says, although, he's witnessed what Mona's done, and he has a feeling that she isn't just going to let him be—but the stupid part of him has hope that maybe she'll just leave him alone, and he won't have to do anything to Spencer. "Wanna play scrabble?" he asks, desperate to change the topic.

"Okay, but you're going down." She smirks.

He didn't like that awkward tension between Spencer and himself. He didn't like how it seemed to be that they didn't have a past, that they haven't fought off monsters together. He didn't like that they seemed like strangers, he didn't like it at all.

"Do you want to go on a walk?" He asks her, once they get outside. She mumbles an 'I guess.' Before they start their walk. They aren't walking to anywhere particular, and they aren't exactly walking on a path. They are simply just walking along the apartment building.

"So, what did you want?" She asks finally after a what seems like miles of endless awkward tension.

He lifts his shoulders stiffly, and lets out a deep breath. "Where's your son?" he asks, not looking her in the eyes, he doesn't have the strength too.

"Oh," She croaks, "Um, he's with my dad." She says after a long pause. "They went on, a um, camping trip, kind of thing." She tells him, which results him to nod.

"That's nice." He comments, pushing off the question, he's been meaning to ask since he first saw the mother and son in the hall way that fine summer day. "That's really nice of him," he says, struggling to find a better adjective than 'nice'.

Spencer shrugs a little, and glances at him. "Yeah," She says, her voice shaking with nerves. "I mean, it's cool that he's there for him, and everything," She says slowing her pace a little.

He seems to notice, and slows his pace himself. "It's great weather for a camping trip,"

"Defiantly." Spencer says stopping all together. "Um," She swallows hardly. "Why are you here?" She asks sternly, her eyes steady on him with determination, that he use to love to see so much, present in her brown eyes.

"I um," He says, stopping also.

The late august air around them was thick, and the sun was beating down on them heavily. The thickness in the air just made it easier, for him to choke on his unsaid words. He doesn't know how to address this, the situation, it was so complicated. "It's about…Noah." He says in a mumble.

Although his voice is clear enough, for Spencer to hear what he says. In this moment, her heart sinks into her stomach, and she feels her head going dizzy. He wasn't dumb, and Spencer didn't think she could necessarily fool him, but she hoped she wouldn't have to deal with it. Then again, hope does bleed eternal misery… She clears her throat, and flicks back a piece of her auburn hair. "Um, what about him?" She asks skeptically.

"Just," He jerks his shoulders forward, and glides his foot across the cement. "I—how old is he?" He asks to obtain clues of whom the father of the child could be, a strong candidate, being himself.

"Um," She ponders on what to tell him. There is no doubt, that his suspicions are growing. So, she had two options: telling the truth and dealing with all of the tremendous complications, or simply lying which would most likely cause no problems, although Spencer should have known better, lies always caused problems. "He's four," She tells him the truth, with not much strength.

"Oh, that's um, nice. He's kind of tall for his age," Toby comments. He saw the boy for probably less than a minute, but he took in the little boy's appearance quickly. The little boy had brown hair, and blue eyes. And he was much taller than any normal four year old, but, that made sense considering both his parents, were quite tall people.

"Yeah, he's the tallest, in his day care." Spencer tells him. This is weird, she is actually having a conversation with Toby Cavanaugh, that doesn't consist of tears and screams. And they are talking about their son, whom Toby doesn't know he is a father to. Yes, this was very strange. "Jason's already preparing him for the basket ball team," she adds. She doesn't know why she is still talking to him still, she should despise him right?

"Wow," Toby enthuses, "I'm sure he'll be a star athlete by the time he's sixteen,"

"Right." She stifles a smile. She can't smile around him? What is she doing? She is talking to Toby, about Noah. This was never a conversation she ever imagined on having. Well, they had conversations about their children, well future children, in a way, but that was before everything. Before she knew the truth...

Another silence fell between them, and by now, they both seem to be used to it. The only thing that bounced off their eardrums for a while was the chirping birds in the sky, and the distant voices of people coming in and out of the apartment building. They kept their eyes off each other, and both of their minds wandered to different things. Mostly about Noah. Spencer didn't want Toby to know the truth, but the truth always came out, one way or another. She knew that for a fact, nothing can keep a secret forever. Toby thought of Noah too, and what the chances were that he could indeed be his son, they seemed pretty high. He was four, he had blue eyes, and was quite tall for his age. Toby remembers seeing himself taller than usual children, in the home videos he would watch on certain occasions, including: his mother's birthday, mother's day, and pretty much anything dealing with his mother.

Although how does he approach the question, that could change his life completely.

"Spencer, I want us...to be okay." He says softly, cutting the small talk,and finally looking at her again. He puts of the question that eats away inside him, for some time. She probably wouldn't even tell him the truth.

She stares at him, her mouth parted open, and her brown eyes perplexed. "I don't...I don't know if that's a good idea." She says, finding it difficult to say.

Was it their closure? Or was it the beginning of something else entirely?

"I know, you have no reason too. I mean why would you even want to?" He asks shaking his head, and clenching his jaw. "But, I just I want to be there for you..." He told her, nearly choking on his words. "I want, to make up for all of the shit I did to you." He tells her solemnly.

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. She doesn't know what she wants. She would feel like such a fool to let him back into her life.

"Please just think about it. I hope you'll consider it," He requests, almost pleadingly.

"Toby," She tilts her head to the side, her brown eyes falling off of him, and to the cement. "It's just too much," She drops her hands. "I don't know how I could ever trust, to let you in my life again." Her voice cracks slightly. He hurt her so much, and the wombs were still healing. She didn't want to spread any salt on her wombs, but maybe he wasn't salt at all, maybe he was the stitches; that would finally help her heal. It was a risk, and she didn't know if she was willing to take it.

"Spencer, you have to know, I'm so sorry." he says sadly.

"I know you are, but," She shrugs her shoulders, her eyes still glued to the ground. "I just," She looks up at him. "I need some time, to think about it." She tells him.

"Okay, I guess that's better than a no." He offers a toothless grin, that hides so many sorrows.

"Yeah," She half smiles at him. He was still the optimist he's always been, which was one of the qualities she admired most about him. Maybe, just maybe, they could be friends.

So,just kidding, I lied? I said you'd only get a flash back, or dream, but there ya go. I sort of adjusted something, and yeah. Sh.

So, this didn't have much 'A' flashbacks, but um, hm... they'll be more of that in the next chapter, and then the next, and yeah. The Hanna coma thing will continue though, I'm not just leaving you hanging, but yeah, you'll just have to wait and see. The next chapter will be more...factual? ha?

Thank you so much for the amazing reviews, I see some of you aren't happy, and some of you are like debating about how you feel about Larson, and yeah, yeah, yeah, just thank you (: I love to hear your reviews good or bad (or even the rude ones, but maybe be a little nicer next time? ;) Christmas is coming up, you don't want to be on the naughty list, do you?) Well thank you again!

My tumblr is Cavastings (: (i changed it!)

Also, I know a lot of you are excited for that Noah/Toby interactions, but I ask you to stay patient my friends. Their schedules don't correspond quite well. But, stay tuned, for it will come one day.

Well pretty please tell me your thoughts! Do you hate me a tiny tiny tiny bit less for last chapter? Was this a nice surprise that it was ALL SPOBY, and i said it would only have a tiny bit of Spoby? Well, tell me! Good, or bad, I want to hear it. Okay, bye for now.

Ps. Sorry this is sort of short, it's like 3000 words, so eh?

xoxCat