a/n: Sorry for the delay! This chapter is a little longer than usual, so maybe that makes it a little better? No? Oh, well. We all know I suck! Also, there isn't that much spoby in this chapter, but if you liked the spoby in the last chapter, I think you will like this one, too. ;) I know a lot of people are wanting them to tell their feelings to each other, and I promise that is coming up, real soon. So just hold your horses! Thanks so much for the reviews/favorites/reads/following. You guys are sooooo incredibly sweet. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'll put another author note at the bottom! Also, the title is from Lucky by Britney Spears. Sh?

Chapter 17

She Cries, Cries, In Her Lonely Heart.

A week and a day later she is at a hospital in New York.

Her mother has that anxious look on her face the whole time. The one where her eyebrows are pushed together, and her mouth is tensing, causing an abundance of wrinkles to form around her lips. Her hand is either at her hip, or dangling close to her mouth, as if she is tempted to gnaw at it. Even though her husband of 27 years is about to go into surgery, she does not dare to ignore a call from a client. She is in and out of the room all morning, and only is consistent in her staying when the doctor is explaining something.

Melissa never stops using the word, "daddy". ("Are you feeling hot, Daddy? Do you want me to call a nurse to dab you with a moist toilette?" Only Melissa would use the word toilette. ) And when she is not referring to their father with the words of a seven-year old, she is talking down to the nurses. ("Are you sure you're doing that right? My husband's a doctor, so I'm pretty well educated about this stuff. Is there anyone more qualified to do this? I don't want you hurting my Daddy.")

Spencer guesses it could be worse.

At 11AM, two hours before her father is scheduled for surgery, when both her sister and mother are out of the room, her father says something that startles her, "I'm proud of you, Spencer."

Spencer's never heard the words come out of her father's mouth. She's heard variations of the words, but they were all directed to Melissa. Never her. She was always the black sheep of the family. Always the one who brought the family's level of perfection down.

He continues, "you," he points a finger at her. "You really surprised me. I didn't know how you would turn out, you know with all your complications throughout high school, but look at you." He waits a second. She should have known this was only some back handed compliment. You really surprised me. I didn't know how you would turn out. All your complications—when he said that, he was likely referring to her Aderall addiction, just another thing to cause her family shame. But she supposes back handed compliments are the closest things to compliments he can get past his lips. "You're on your way to becoming a lawyer, not letting any silly relationship coming between that. You can save that for later." She knows what, or rather who, he is referring to—Melissa. She got married in the middle of law school. It was to a doctor, but it still caused a rift between her and the Hastings parents for a while. But eventually everything smoothed over. The prodigal child didn't leave her throne for too long.

"Thanks," she manages to say, even though it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

He must sense her discomfort, for he continues, only startling her more. "Oh, I'm not good at this, you know. I didn't mean it like that. I am just saying, you put all your struggles behind you, and came out strong. You pulled through, that's not something everyone can do, you know?" he remarks, a sort of smile arranging on his lips. "But you are a Hastings. You have the DNA to excel."

Spencer offers a timid smile, "thanks," she says a little more sincerely.

He nods, a pleased look covering his face. "You think it would be bad if I stole some grapes from you?" he nods to the bowl of grapes in her hands.

"Dad, you're not supposed to eat before the surgery," she reminds him.

He sighs, "I know, but Jesus Christ, you would think they would forbid anyone from bringing food in here. You know, the temptation."

"I can throw it away if you want," she rises a little in her seat.

He grabs her wrist, "no, it's fine, sweets. You eat it, I'll just watch."

She smiles, "no, really, it's okay. I'll throw it away, but you won't mind if I get a coffee, will you?" she rises to her feet.

He waves a hand at her, "no, go ahead, kiddo."

She grins at him, "I'll be back in 10. Melissa will probably be sooner," she tells him. He nods in assurance that he'll be okay, and she departs from his room.

…

He goes into surgery as scheduled, and the doctor tells them that they should go take a lunch break—it's going to be several hours. So, they listen to the woman, and go eat lunch. Melissa's husband, Wren Kingston, comes to join them. He works in this hospital, too. So, he can't stay for long—he's working. Spencer can't say that she is upset by his early departure. Whenever he is around, he is always hitting on her. He always plays it off to be a joke, but it doesn't feel like a joke. When she told Melissa this, back when they were just boyfriend and girlfriend, Melissa had waved her off, saying, "Spencer, you always find something wrong with everyone. You're just jealous I found someone amazing as Wren." And one long eye roll later, the two were married.

After lunch Spencer gets a call from Hanna.

"Hello?" Spencer asks.

"Hey. You home? I need you. Emily is at swim practice, like always, and I need you."

She sounds very stressed. Then again, she has been stressed since Caleb got down on one knee, in all honesty.

She excuses herself from her sister and mother, and asks her distraught friend what the problem is.

"Everything! Where are you? Can you come over?"

"I'm kind of occupied, right now," she struggles to push the words from her mouth.

"With what?!" she exclaims, annoyed.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later, just. I'm sorry, I can't help. Where's Caleb?"

"He's the problem!" she seethes. "We got into a huge fight over my father. My stupid, fucking, father. I'm really scared, Spence." Spencer can almost hear the tears forming in her friend's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hanna," she struggles. She hates that she can't be there for her. She really does. But right now, she has to be here for her father. "I'm sure everything will work out. Caleb loves you."

"I know. But, I don't know. I know he does, I just—I'm scared he isn't ready for all this."

"Hanna, he's ready. He's been ready since the day he met you."

She sniffles, "we'll see."

"I'm sorry I can't be there for you."

"It's okay," she sighs. "I'll call you later."

"Don't give up on, Caleb, okay?"

"Okay," she murmurs in a thick voice.

"Bye," she ends the call.

After her phone call with Hanna, the rest of the day is pretty uneventful. It is mostly just full of waiting—waiting for her father to return from surgery. Every now and then Wren will check up on them, kissing Melissa's cheek, and winking at Spencer (all in good fun, of course—not.) He will squeeze her mother's right, or left, shoulder, and offer his words of comfort, then be on his way.

When dinner time comes, they go back to the cafeteria for another mediocre meal. After, they continue to wait. Wait, and wait, and wait, until finally…

Their doctor, Dr. Rosano, comes their way.

Her mother speaks first, "is the surgery done?" she asks.

The man doesn't nod, nor shakes his head. "Mrs. Hastings, there was a complication," he begins.

"A complication?" she refrains in a voice of annoyance. "What do you mean?" she demands.

"I'm very sorry," he provides in a sympathetic voice.

"Very sorry, about what? What happened?" she demands in a rigid voice, her hand finding her hip.

"Your husband…he lost a lot a blood. And since he signed the DNR papers…" the doctor goes on in a gentle tone. "I'm very sorry."

"It was a standard procedure!" her voice raises an octave, her vocal chords wavering. "A simple procedure!"

"Your husband was actually much sicker than you thought he was. The tumor, it was much bigger. He has actually been with this cancer for about two years. He didn't want you to know. He had a couple surgeries in the beginning, and then we began with chemo. Apparently, he told you he was on business trips and what not while staying in the hospital… I'm very sorry, Mrs. Hastings."

"No! I don't want to hear this. I want the vital evidence. You are going to show me his records—everything. The DNR papers!" she demanded, her voice thick with aggression, and her dark eyes polished with dew.

"Mrs. Hastings, I think you should…"

And the rest was just a blur of nonsense to Spencer. It was all fighting. All arguing, and yelling, and harshness.

It feels surreal. Her dad is dead. Her dad died. Her dad is gone. How can that even be possible? Just a few hours she saw him—she saw him with her two own eyes. Heard him! He seemed okay. He didn't seem to be in a world of pain! A Hastings doesn't show weakness, her father once told her. But cancer? Did he really consider cancer a weakness? It is an illness!

She can hardly hold herself together. Melissa wraps her arms around her, and only then does she realize the intensity of her pain. She is crying, crying into Melissa's shoulder, and dampening her Kate Spade dress. It is odd, yet comforting to be in Melissa's empathic embrace. Melissa is crying, too, and it feels a little bit better that she isn't alone.

Her mother disappears on them, with the doctor, surely going to discuss this whole situation with someone who is higher in authority.

"I can't believe this," Melissa whimpers, her head shaking against Spencer's shoulder.

A few moments later, Wren is running up to them, catching Melissa in his arms. "I just heard," he murmurs into her.

"Wren," she crumbles into him.

She's never seen Melissa so upset. She's only seen Melissa cry a couple of times, but none of which involved sobs.

She wraps her arms around her, lonely now, without Melissa's embrace.

She pushes away her tears, and tries to pull herself together.

"Can you take us to him?" she asks her husband in a desperate, wishing tone.

He looks at her with a look she has rarely seen on him before. A look of sincerity. He looks desperate to help her, as if his life depends on it. For once, Melissa is his main focus. "I'll try to talk to someone. Just wait here," he instructs her, his hands squeezing her shoulders.

She nods, "thank you."

When passing Spencer, he simply squeezes her shoulder, a smile of support embarking on her lips. For once, she is not totally disdained by his actions. It was actually kind.

"We'll get through this," Melissa comes close to her sister. She takes her hands in hers, "we always get through this. We're Hastings."

"It doesn't feel real," Spencer whispers.

"I know," she breathes in a winded tone.

"He signed the DNR papers…" Spencer whispers, her eyes blinking from Melissa's. "Why would he do that?" she questions, mindlessly.

Melissa doesn't reply. She wasn't really expecting her, too. It was more of a rhetorical question than anything. She can't believe he signed those papers—that he lied about the criticalness of his illness. Her eyes well up again. How could he do that to them? How could he be so selfish? She swallows the lump in her throat.

Wren eventually returns with another doctor, one Spencer had seen in her father's room—one that was surely in the OR. She is tall, and pretty, and compassionate. She tells them that they really did the best they could do, and everything else that doctors say whenever one of your love ones die under their jurisdiction.

Seeing her father's dead body is enough to set her off again, except this time she is on her own. Melissa is being cradled in Wren's arms now, and her mother is nowhere to be seen. She is all alone, like always.

…

For next few days she stays at her mother's house. She tells Hanna and Caleb only of her father's death, but Hanna and Caleb are not the only ones who send their sorrows. Aria, Holden, Emily, Toby and Ezra also put forth their condolences. Spencer has never been one for pity, so hearing her friends apologies isn't exactly comforting, but she supposes it is nice to know they care.

She gave Hanna and Caleb the funeral home address, and she will not be surprised if anyone else shows up. Really, she doesn't want anyone else to show up. She'll be all weak and helpless, and they'll just say sorry again and again until it turns dry. But she isn't going to exile them for caring.

…

"All I'm saying is that she's going to be in a fragile state, and I don't know. I get that you guys are friends, or whatever now, but I don't know. Are you that close of friends for this? I don't know how Spencer will react. I don't even think she wants me or Hanna there," Caleb goes on. He has been saying stuff like this all afternoon.

"I need to go," Toby provides, full well knowing that the answer will not be enough for the boy. It isn't like he can explain the relationship he has with Spencer to Caleb—not when he doesn't even understand it himself.

Caleb huffs, "she's like my sister, okay? I just—I don't know. I don't want to upset her any further. She wasn't that close with her dad, but he was still her dad."

He feels like he needs to go. Like it's an obligation. Last week something was wrong with her, and he has a gut feeling that it had to do with her father. He held her while she cried. He witnessed her in a whole new persona—one much more dense and scattered. She allowed him, too. She didn't run off, and hide. That has to mean something.

And even if he didn't provide her the empathy and company of last week, he would still feel a need to go. Whatever Spencer is, she is his friend. Among everything, she is his friend. It has been a strange journey, but she is his friend. Friends help each other. Friends are there when you need them—and Spencer needs friends right now. Toby knows the pain of losing a parent, and it is not a pain that is easily dealt with. It is complex, and layered, and every time you think you've overcome it, grief robs your sense of stability and strength once again.

"We're friends, Caleb."

"But how close of friends are you? Like, after the wedding, do you think you'll even see her? You two hated each other up to a few weeks ago! I mean, that's…that's not what I call great friendship."

Toby rolls his eyes, and just as he is about to argue back, Hanna comes into the room. All dressed up, and perfected.

"I'm ready. Let's go," she murmurs to no one in particular.

Caleb and Hanna are still on bad pretenses. It's been about three days since their fight. They, sort of, put aside, for Spencer's sake, but it is still tense. The fight is still alive, just put to the side, for now.

As they sit in the car, Toby regrets not riding in his own vehicle. The funeral is a little ways out, and he figured it was a way of saving gas. Maybe on the way back, he'll ask to ride back with Aria. The only people in her car are Emily and Holden. Ezra isn't going to the funeral. To be fair, he and Spencer aren't necessarily close. A pang of doubt hits him. Maybe Caleb is right. Maybe he shouldn't be going. Spencer is very selective on whom she decides to let in. They are barely friends, really.

They arrive at the funeral home after about an hour and half of driving, and take a seat near the back. There is a lot of people here. He knows the Hastings have a lot of friends. They always used to have cocktail parties and banquets, and other rich people parties. Toby never went to one, considering his friendship with Spencer was both short and nonexclusive, but he heard all about them through Caleb. Well, mostly about the booze.

He stretches his neck, and tires his eyes, trying to find Spencer, but she is nowhere to be seen. She is probably in front, but there are so many people that she is blinded by the crowd.

It soon starts up, and he finally takes sight of her. She is walking up with her mother, and sister. Four men carry the casket behind them, and an elderly woman that is most likely her grandmother—her father's mother—walks behind it, bowing her head down.

He knows now is not the time to recognize vanity, but he can't help but to notice just how gorgeous she looks. Her hair is straightened, and her dress drops to right above her knee. It has sleeves, which are made of lace, and a belt tied around the waist. He doesn't see her dressed up often. The last time he saw her like this it was at the engagement party, and back then, he didn't fully appreciate it. Sure, it was an unbending fact that she was pretty. Even at his highest hatred of her, he could not say she was unpleasing to look at. She was just unpleasing to be around. Well, that was back then. Now is a completely different story. Maybe she's changed, or he's changed, or maybe it was the apology, but he has grown very fond of her. Sure, they were friends in high school for a short while, but it is different now. He had a crush on her during that time, but now… it's just different. His care for her has inflated.

Which is why he had to come today. He cares about her, and it isn't the time to be alone. He won't let her be alone. Sure, she has Caleb, and Hanna, but they don't know this pain. This harsh grief of which comes with the loss of a parent.

The ceremony goes on, and lasts for about an hour. When it ends, everyone is invited to the banquet hall for lunch.

They make their way up to Spencer, and Hanna and Caleb greet her first, while Toby lulls behind, waiting for his turn to greet her. Eventually, they part ways, and he is able to speak to her without the two hovering over him.

"Hi," she greets in a steady voice. "Thanks for coming," she states, surely for the hundredth time. There is no doubt that this is how she had greeted every guest. He didn't quite make out what she had said to Hanna and Caleb. He wonders if she treated them in this matter, too.

It feels stiff and awkward, and he doesn't know what to say. "Yeah," he nods.

In an attempt to dissolve the awkwardness of the situation, he goes in for a hug. He is pretty sure he took her off guard, for she stumbles back a little, but soon enough she is back on her feet, encircling her arms around him. The awkwardness that had embarked on them gradually fades away. Her embrace is a lot more personal than her words. It feels more sincere and honest, as if she is actually glad that he is here, not just in a bullshit kind of way.

Her hold on him only tightens, and he honestly didn't expect the hug to last more than five seconds, but it is been nearly 20, and her arms are still imprisoning him. His eyes travel over to Caleb who is eyeing him with a peculiar look, but he just ignores it.

Spencer pulls away in a swift movement, as if his temperature had suddenly risen to something over 300 degrees.

"Thanks," she provides. An unmistakably feigned smile reaching across her face.

…

She was sort of surprised to see Toby, truly. What even are they? She told Caleb they were friends, and she supposes that's true. But the extent of their friendship is unclear to her. They still fight, a lot. And when they hangout, they basically just fuck. So, they are essentially fuck buddies. He is her fuck buddy who she has ambiguous, untold, feelings for. It just doesn't seem fitting, but nevertheless, she is sort of glad he is here. At least she was in that moment.

The other week, when he held her, it felt warming and soothing. There was some method at which the man hugged that made her feel calmer. Unfortunately, that calming feeling only lasted a few seconds after the hug ended. The high is not a type of high that lasts. It goes quickly. Fortunately she has another thing to get her through this day—a flask.

It is a very Hanna-like thing to do, but she is in desperate need for it. Not even really out of sadness, but anger. He left them. He left them, and didn't even leave a warning of his departure. He gave them a week! A fucking seven days to prepare for his death! And everyone kept going about how great of a man he was. She doubted a great man would do this to his family. But these people don't know. They don't know that he essentially killed himself. No, they don't know about the signed DNR papers.

She heads to the hall with Melissa and Wren, because she can't bear to spend another minute with her grandmother, and mother, who keep blaming the hospital for his death. They keep going on about suing, and unfit doctors, and Spencer has heard enough of it the last few days. Maybe she is being selfish, but not nearly as selfish as her father was.

Once they get to banquet hall, she is once again reunited with her mother and grandmother, and other various family members. Her uncle joins the anti-hospital chant, and Spencer thanks the lord for the open bar, for her flask is running short.

She eventually spends her time with her friends. At least they aren't going on about how it's the hospital's fault, when it is her father's. She tries to get Caleb and Hanna to tell them about their problems, but neither says anything. Everyone just acts so unsure around her. She hates that. Not even Aria, whom is always going on about herself (she loves the girl, but it's true) is unwilling to gossip. So, eventually she leaves. But she cannot go back to her family. She cannot deal with this anymore—the whole honoring of her father thing. Not when he wasn't the least bit honorable.

She goes outside and sits on the bench. It is a little ways down, but it is away from everything, so that makes that a good thing.

She is alone for a while, just thinking, and taking sips of her flask she had refilled. It feels like she's been here for hours, and she would like nothing else but to go home—back to her apartment, not her mother's house.

But she is not alone for a whole while. Someone has found her, and she is not sure how she feels about it.

He sits as far away as possible, unspeaking. It is like this for a while that neither say anything. Until…

"I don't know if you remember, but my Mom died. Freshman year, it was in October. I think we were just beginning to hate each other."

Spencer does remember his mother's death. She felt bad for him. She truly did. Even though he had annoyed her, she had felt sympathy for him.

"It was really hard. She was my best friend, essentially. Yes, make fun of me, but she was," he looks over to her.

She offers a small smile.

He smiles back, but it quickly fades. "I still miss her. All the time. It took me a really long time to accept that she was dead, but eventually…it got better. It still hurts, but not constantly—not piercingly."

Spencer looks away, swallowing, the words drifting from her mouth in shallow breaths, "he signed the DNR papers."

Toby doesn't say anything, but somehow, she feels the urge to go on. Maybe it is just all the alcohol swarming around inside her, or maybe it is just Toby, but she continues. "He knew about his illness for two years, and lied about it. And then he just went in—he went in, full well knowing there was a chance he'd die in there, and he signed the fucking DNR papers," she sucks in a hard breath. "He signed his death certificated…" she voices shakily.

She sends the flask to her mouth, sending down a river of liquor. "That selfish ass," she murmurs, her head shaking in disbelief. "He's just—selfish! He…he didn't even try. He was fucking fifty-six years old, damn it."

A few seconds later, Toby speaks up. "I understand you being angry—really I do," his voice is thick with emotion. "My mom—s-she committed suicide. I was so angry, for so long. I thought she was selfish, too. I thought she didn't…" his voice trails into nothingness for a second, "care about me, or my father, or anyone else in the family, for that matter."

Spencer stares at him sadly. She didn't know that part of the story.

"But she was ill. She was mentally sick. Sick with something that can't be cured…just like cancer."

She looks down, feeling heavy.

"Your dad…I didn't know him, I don't know anything about him, but he probably was in a lot of pain. He may have seemed strong, but…it was probably an act. Just because he signed the DNR papers, doesn't mean he didn't love you."

She lets out a shaky sigh, not knowing what to really say to the man. "I just…wish he told me. I just…it was such a sudden thing."

"I know," Toby offers, scooting over towards her, and covering her hand with his.

She looks over to him with tearful eyes, and frowns, "I don't like feeling this way."

"No one does."

"I'm not good at it," she presses. "I don't know how to deal with things. I bottle them up. I'm pretty sure that I'm only being so open because I'm half-drunk. And that's not a good way of dealing with things, either."

"It isn't," Toby agrees in a soft voice.

She sighs, and leans into him. His arm pulls her closer to him that relaxing feeling meeting her again. She is really glad that he is here.

a/n: YEAH. So, sadness. :( I haven't written much angst for this story. It's mostly been light hearted, but this chapter definitely was a little more emotional. I hope you liked it. Leave a review please? :)