So this is a rewrite / continued write of the previous chapter. I scrapped the whole last bit because it wasn't going to work with how I want this story to go. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, it might be a bit different seeing as I haven't written in a while, but let me know. xx

It took a while for her eyes to focus against the bright lights of the room, and even then her vision was slightly blurred. A sharp ringing echoed in her ears, and a wave of dizziness washed over her, but, other than that, she felt normal. She was faced upwards on a slight diagonal, so for a moment all she was looking at was the fine line where the ceiling met the wall. The ringing faded slightly, and slurred voices drifted into her ears, filling her head with a noise she wasn't quite sure she was prepared for. Looking down to her right, she saw Hanna's familiar but concerned face, her lips moving but no audible words coming out. She felt a warm squeeze on her right hand, and that was when she saw him.

The world moved in slow motion as she shifted her glance from Hanna to the man standing at the opposite side of the bed. The man who was the last person she expected to be here. The man who's clothes were torn and bloodied, and who had numerous cuts and bruises across his beautiful face.

Toby.

Spencer lay there staring at him, at his muted lips, his tousled bronze hair, his adoring eyes. She stared at him and nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered until she spoke. "Toby?"

His face came into focus properly, and it was like she was waking up from a dull dream. It was like she was drowning and he saved her, he was like coming up for fresh air. It was like she was blind and he made her see, all by the image of his battered face. Seconds after she spoke his name and melted his heart, seconds after her voice filled Hanna with relief, seconds after everything seemed okay for the three of them, it all just went away.

Pain tore through her chest like a wild-fire, every single inch of muscle and skin burning. It was such real, pure pain that Spencer thought she could feel the red-hot flames licking up her body.

Eyes squeezed shut in agony, she was unaware of the chaos going on around her in the small room. No noise came from her other than strained breaths; she was in such excruciating pain that she couldn't make a sound, not even a scream. Her fragile hand grasped at the crisp white sheets, knuckles bone-white, fingers trembling. The oxygen mask on her face fogged up, before it slipped off all together, making her breathing shallow and fast. She writhed and stretched and thrashed on the small bed, trying and failing to stop the blazing heat burning her open from the inside out, like some kind of fiery devil slashing and shredding its way through her muscle and bone. She moved so sharply and so desperately on the bed that she managed to rip out the IV in her right arm, allowing a sudden stream of blood to flow freely from her porcelain skin. She couldn't think of anything, couldn't feel anything other than the pain, and it was killing her.

Throughout all of this, Toby couldn't breathe.

At first his feet were glued to the ground, his body frozen, suddenly overcome with fear and panic. What brought him back to reality was when she tore her hand out of his grip, leaving his bruised hand feeling cold and empty. He jumped into action, grabbing her arm to try and brace her before she did anymore harm to her already damaged body. Moments later he realised this was no use, and took to following Hanna's suit in yelling for a doctor.

"Where the hell is Emily with that doctor?" He yelled at Hanna, who was standing by the doorway with her hands behind her head in disbelief, or maybe it was defeat, Toby honestly didn't care.

"I-I-I don't -" Hanna stuttered, testing Toby's patience.

"For god's sake, let me find her." He half yelled, half muttered, before sprinting out of the room and down the hallway, leaving Hanna alone with her unresponsive best friend.

"Dammit Spence, don't die."