Posting in honor of PLL Day. Last part. Tell me what you like.
I own nothing PLL related. I wish I owned Toby. Don't we all?
Sleep claimed her in intervals, dragging her under the eddying current without warning. He was always there when she came back to the surface.
A whispered affirmation was streaming over her head as she blinked against the fluorescent glare. The words didn't make sense but the love shining through him was the clearest shade of affection she had ever known.
"Hey." Her voice was always croaking in a flimsy manner.
"Hi, sleepyhead."
"How are you here?"
He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Hospitals usually have these things called visiting hours."
He smiled. Spencer wondered when she had last seen that expression on his furrowed face. "Your mom kind of went on a tirade at the nurses' station…she said I'm family and I am allowed be here whenever I like, or she'd sue."
Her mouth fell open. "She did?!"
His happiness momentarily withered. "I think...I think she feels guilty that she can't stay with you as much as she should…and for not being home when this happened."
A graceless snort escaped her. "That's rich."
He bypassed that one. "Spence, I couldn't sleep last night…I've been thinking about our relationship …"
"Okay." Her throat went dry.
He sighed. She was beginning to hate that sound even more than she hated his apologies.
"When things first started up between us, I have to admit that I was infuriated with your parents. They had this gorgeous, brilliant, fearless daughter and they let her sit alone in this castle of a house while they went off and did whatever they did. I despised them for overlooking you and I vowed that I would show you how wrong they were. Not that I wanted to undermine their role in your life or take you away from them, but…I thought I could make up for what they weren't giving you."
She didn't bother with the tracks of moisture running down her hollowed cheeks. The dam had fractured.
"I know that working with Mona was a monumental error in judgment, but you have to believe me when I say that my heart never left yours. Even if I made all the worst choices, it all came from a place that was desperately unswerving in my devotion to you, to us."
An arid cough passed through him, but he shook it off. "I sat up all night thinking how far I've strayed from that vow. I got so lost in myself that I completely neglected you; I treated you like my grief counselor and my colleague, but not my girlfriend. I haven't protected you, haven't—"
She couldn't bear any more. "You're allowed to have issues too. You had a life before you met me, Toby, I don't expect you to let all the other pieces drop the second I get melodramatic. You don't have to be some stoic rock."
His head tilted suspiciously. "That is the most hypocritical thing I've ever heard."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm the one who puts on the stoic rock façade? Look in the mirror, honey."
Point taken. "But I'm okay."
"Were you okay when you went to Radley?"
It was amazing how causally he could launch that stinging barb. "Why would you ask that?"
"Answer the question."
"No. I wasn't okay. Happy now?"
His face darkened. "Not at all. So is this different? Does this qualify as okay in comparison to that?"
"Have you been talking to Dr. Sullivan?"
"Spencer."
She sniffled as thoughts of the thread and the lake and masks all hurtled through her head.
I decided I didn't want to be victim anymore.
He had been dead. It was his tattoo, his leather jacket, his bike helmet.
But now he was right in front of her.
"Maybe…I'm not okay. But…"
Both of his hands gripped one of hers. "Come on, Spence, I'm listening this time."
Her breath came in feeble spurts. "I don't know, Toby. When I went there…I didn't want to be Spencer Hastings. It wasn't good, being her."
"And now?" His anxiety was alarmingly palpable.
Her eyes drifted shut. "It hasn't been much fun lately."
…
There were too many of them looking at her, all of them expecting some bright blip of enthusiasm. They'd have to keep waiting, because brightness was hardly her forte at the moment.
"Where's my watch? I know I had it on when I came in."
Her mother shifted from one foot to another while her dad glanced accusingly at the doctor.
"Are you sure you had it on, sweetie? You said you don't remember…"
"I wear it every day! It has thin leather straps and—"
Toby blustered into the room, succinctly cutting her off. "Is everything okay, Spence?"
"No, they returned my personal effects and my watch is missing!" Tears gathered beneath her lids. Why it mattered so much, she couldn't say. An irrational turbulence consumed her. How could she be coerced back into the cruel light of reality without it?
"Hey, it's okay, don't cry. I have it right here." The watch inexplicably appeared from the folds of his coat. He knelt before her, fastening it onto her wrist immediately. He remained on his knees as he stroked her chin with the pad of his thumb. She watched attentively as he silently mouthed the words, "Are you alright?"
Spencer nodded slightly. It was all she could muster.
Toby stood back up, facing the perplexed appearances of the others in the room. "A nurse showed it to me the night Spencer was admitted. The glass was completely shattered on the face, but I knew how much she loved it…so I looked into getting it repaired. It's no big deal."
A strange twitching sensation tingled around her mouth. Her heart drummed at an increased pace. This was what it felt like to smile, to genuinely smile.
He sat close to her in the waiting room as her parents signed the discharge papers. They didn't talk much, but the quietness felt contented this time. He gingerly cupped her elbow as they transferred her from the wheelchair to the car. She turned to him and tentatively murmured—"thank you."
But by the way her toffee eyes flicked appreciatively across his face, he knew that those two words covered a multitude of unspoken sentiments.
…
"What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"
He kissed her on the cheek and smiled. "Yes, everything is okay. I came to pick you up."
She crossed her arms warily. "How do you know I didn't drive?"
"You were released from the hospital yesterday, Spencer. With a concussion, remember?"
The pesky thread of doubt whipped in the bitter wind. "I know. That doesn't mean you have to come get me. Aria gave me a ride this morning, and I'm fine to walk home."
"But now you don't have to. Come on." He wrapped a sturdy arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the tan truck. Some combatant gush of adoration fought for dominance.
I love you so much.
I wanted to say that first.
The thread shriveled. She did love him.
Toby unlocked her door and helped her in while teasing her about going to school when she had a doctor's excuse for the rest of the week. And the thing was, he knew she would go back right away without asking—he was here, waiting for her, grinning like a fool.
Because he knew her that well.
…
Both of her parents were stuck in Philly.
Emily? College visit. Aria? With Jake.
And Hanna? Well Hanna had more than enough going on without her trivial intrusions.
Plus he would probably be livid if she called anyone other than him.
He was there so fast that she couldn't help but assume that he had already been on his way. "General Tso's or teriyaki? I'll take whatever you don't want."
She hadn't eaten all day. She figured he had guessed that. "Let's share. Both sound good."
"I like that answer." He left a chaste kiss on her unsuspecting lips then wandered past her on a mission for plates. The whole exchange had been only a moment, and he went on as if it had all been second nature.
And it occurred to her that not so long ago, it was. Maybe it still could be.
…
She jolted awake, her entire body trembling. A pulsating flash of suppressed images erupted like fireworks in the night sky. The creaking on the steps, the flicker of black separating itself from the shadows, her startled yelp and a deluge of sharp pain…all jagged memories of the night she had been attacked. Her lungs ached and her eyes seared. It felt so real.
Then her vision focused in on the motionless figure sprawled across her red chair. She almost screamed at the sight, but her addled brain finally cleared.
My safe place to land.
It wasn't even a question. She was out of her bed and at his side instantaneously. "Toby, wake up." Her hand settled on his shoulder. "Please, Toby…"
"Mmm. Spence?" His hand rose to trap hers in place.
"I had a dream or déjà vu or something. About that night."
"When someone hurt you?" The fog in his voice was gradually lifting.
"Uh huh." Another quiver passed through her. He tugged on her arm lightly, and she gratefully fell into his lap. It was the closest they had been in…well, she didn't know how long.
He smoothed back her tangled hair. "You're safe, sweetheart."
It was like he was reading her mind. My safe place to land.
He kissed her temple. "Did you happen to see a face?"
She shook her head.
"Well did it look like...do you think it was—"
"A? Yeah, it was your standard issue black sweatshirt. That's all I got."
He hummed pensively, the vibrations playing in a beautiful symphony against her skin. She missed him, missed this, missed that distinct scent of leather and aftershave and sawdust.
"I think I was afraid to admit it—even to myself—that I needed you."
Toby repositioned his head so he could see her better. "Want to elaborate on that thought?"
"I think you're fully aware of the fact that I don't like the idea of needing anything or anyone. But it's worse now…after the way I lost myself when you were gone…I've never felt so unchecked before you know?"
"I know."
The grit in his tone reminded her that she has not been the only one suffering then. "Things have been…slipping away again, but I wanted to control it this time."
She felt his exhale against her forehead. "But Spencer, I'm here this time. I should have been before and I wasn't, but I am now."
"What was I supposed to tell you?" Her voice broke as if she were a wave against shrill rocks on a vindictive shoreline. "It's not like something disastrous was happening to me."
"Did you feel alone?"
"Yes."
His arms tightened around her. "That's disastrous enough for me."
A pervasive realization sifted through her. A glance downward confirmed that her watch was in one solid piece right where it belonged. For the first time in months, that adamant coldness had subsided. Toby's warmth had seeped beneath the frosty outer layer and spread through her from head to toe. And that thread, that damned harmful thread, had been snipped. He was all she heard, all she saw, all she felt.
My safe place to land.
She didn't want to drown. She wanted to live.
"I love you, Toby."
…
When he carried her back to bed this time, he slid between the sheets with her and kissed each one of her closed eyelids. She was his clarity, his sanity, his cure.
"I love you, Spencer. More than I can ever tell you."
Her sleeping form burrowed deeper into his chest. She made him whole.
Sometimes it was hard to remember that he had the power to make her whole too.
now let's cross our fingers that these two get it together on TV. Pretty pretty please?