DRAGONFLY

PART IV

Spencer Hastings is fighting the battle of her life.

Trigger Warning: This premise of this story involves Spencer having an eating disorder. Please read no further if this is a sensitive topic for you.

Hanna's visit left Spencer feeling a little less alone. She wasn't optimistic about her situation, but was glad to know that there were little glimmers of light along the dark tunnel ahead. Best of all, Spencer knew she could trust Hanna with all of the delicate information she divulged; Aria, Emily, Toby, they wouldn't know any more about her situation than Spencer wanted them to know. The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, uneventfully. Nurses buzzed in and out of her room, Spencer counting at least 3 due to what seemed like a gazillion shift changes. Whatever the numbers on the of the machines she was hooked up to meant, Spencer didn't really know, but from what one particular nurse - Carrie - said, her vitals looked to be improving pretty impressively since her initial admission last week.

There was something to be said for progress and everyone's different ideas about the concept. To Spencer, progress was the decrease of the number on the scale, the increasing visibility of her rib cage and hip bones, the ever-present growling in her stomach that she refused to quell. Spencer realized that Dr. Woodgate's idea of progress was quite different. Progress to Dr. Woodgate was bringing the foreign language of numbers reflecting Spencer's physical health to within "normal" range. In a way - and despite every logical bone in her body - Spencer couldn't help but resent the physician for trying to reverse all of the progress she'd made over the past seven months. After all, Spencer figured, normalcy was equivocal to being average. What could be worse than being average, especially in a family where exceptionalism is the status quo?

Nothing. Spencer answered her own question as she looked towards the door wistfully. She'd been cooped up for so long that taking a walk seemed like the most appealing thing in the world; after all, there wasn't much she could do in the way of exercise in such a cramped room and with different tubes and wires hooked up to her. She pursed her lips in thought as she attempted to decipher which tubes and wires went where. Most seemed to originate from the heart monitor, readings from which Dr. Woodgate insisted be recorded vigilantly in case Spencer's choice of diet affected more than just her weight and vitamin levels (it hadn't, much to Spencer's relief). Finagling the tangle of cords to one side of the bed, Spencer swung her feet over the side of the mattress. It was on very shaky legs that the brunette stood up. A shower of black dots rained across Spencer's vision, accompanied by slight dizziness. Closing her eyes, she let the now-familiar feeling pass. Once it had, Spencer gripped the metal rod of the monitor and pulled it towards her, little black wheels spinning as the machine moved.

It was an ecstatic feeling to walk. Spencer made her way to the door, and then turned around and walked to the window. Back and forth, the little voice in Spencer's head counted each step, estimating calorie burn. Spencer reached two hundred and ten steps when she was stopped in her tracks. Outside of the small room window, she could see her parents and Drs. Woodgate and Lacey conferring in the hospital corridor. Her father was nodding intently. The amateur detective in Spencer really wanted to hear what was going on. She reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it. The door was pushed forward with a distinct squeak.

Shit.

Her mother's head snapped up abruptly, dark eyes darting to meet Spencer's stare. "Spencer? What are you doing out of your bed?"

"I, uh..." No credible lie came to mind. Instead choosing to own her actions, she opened the door fully. "I just needed to walk around," Spencer replied nonchalantly, composure regained. "Not a big deal."

Dr. Woodgate shook her head, concerned. "Spencer, you're supposed to be resting." She turned to the Hastings. A wordless exchange of glances, and then the physician spun back around. "Actually, Spencer, now would be a good time to chat. Please get back in bed. We'll be in to talk in just another minute, okay?"

Brows furrowed; it was Spencer's turn to be confused. What could they possibly want to talk to her about that they haven't already beat to death in earlier conversation? Nonetheless, she shrugged and retreated back to her room. If they wanted to play grown-ups, she'd humor them.

After a couple of minutes, the doctors entered the room, followed by Veronica and Peter. With their silence came tension; something wasn't right. Spencer sat up straight, anxiety coursing through her veins like electricity through a powerline. Then? She waited.

It was Dr. Lacey who spoke first. "Spencer, I very much enjoyed our discussion the other day and I want to thank you for giving me a glimpse into your thoughts. As I told you I would, I spoke with Dr. Woodgate and your parents about my recommendations."

"Recommendations," Spencer echoed, not trying to mask her disdain. "And what might your recommendations be?"

Spencer saw the way her mother and father looked at each other, and then to Dr. Woodgate, who gave a single encouraging nod. She sensed something, and for the very first time in her life, perceived... regret. Peter sat down slowly at the foot of Spencer's hospital bed, his face weary and aged. "Spencer, honey..."

Spencer was becoming worried. Here her father was, sitting by her side, actually concerned. "Dad? What the hell is going on?'

When Peter took her hand, Spencer could have cried. She felt her lip tremble, mourning something about which she did not yet know. "Your mother and I... We screwed up, Spencer," her father began quietly, "We screwed up by not being there for you when you so obviously needed us, me especially. I don't know that I can ever make up for the pain that I've caused, honey, but it's time to start trying."

Spencer shook her head. "Dad, I - I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"

The brunette felt her mother's warm hand grip her shoulder reassuringly. Veronica spoke, voice warm and comforting. "Darling, we had a long talk with the doctors here, and with each other. We all want you to be healthy again and believe that it's in your best interest to go to Willow Creek after you're discharged from here. The best way of ensuring your recovery is inpatient treatment, Spencer."

Dark eyes widened as Spencer reeled from the decision. "Are you serious right now? What, do you guys want to hide away your dirty little secret again?" she spat.

Dr. Lacey smiled sadly. "Dirty little secret. Spencer, thoughts like that are the reason that I've advocated this path. Your eating disorder seems to have stemmed from the inadequacy you feel given your relationship with your parents."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Spencer asked, fat, salty tears pooling in her eyes. "This isn't fair!"

"What's not fair is the fact that my little girl is hurting herself because of the way I made her feel," Peter said firmly. "You're going, Spencer. This isn't up for debate."

And like that, Spencer felt her fate become sealed. She knew logically that treatment wouldn't be the worst thing ever, recalling her earlier conversation with Hanna and how the blonde had gone through her eating disorder completely and utterly alone. Spencer didn't want that for herself; she didn't want to push people away anymore. Moreover, she wanted her old life back, where her biggest enemy was A and not herself. The twisted little voice in Spencer's head was screaming otherwise, though. Resisting the asisine suggstion of treatment with every ounce of strength available. They're jealous of your willpower, Spencer. They want to see you fail. They want you to be fat like them.

An overwhelming anguish was seeping through the mental walls she'd built. Spencer, she was supposed to be so goddamn smart, but here she was, the voices in her head unable to come to a simple consensus: recover or succeed?

After a long while, she finally made up her mind. The "fine" was quiet, but it was certainly audible.

"Pardon?" Dr. Lacey asked.

Spencer closed her eyes, inhaled. Centered herself. "I said fine. I'll go," she repeated, her voice stronger this time. "Let the chips fall where they may, as they say."

"Oh, Spencer," Veronica sighed with a smile, wrapping her arms around her daughter in a nurturing embrace. All of a sudden, Spencer felt six years old again. She let the scent of her mother's vintage Anais Anais perfume fill her nostrils as Veronica stroked her head. After a few seconds, she felt another pair of arms circle around her, her father's. It was a scene that Spencer hadn't been a part of in years and a reminder that normalcy isn't always such a bad thing.

Maybe things would be okay after all

Six weeks later...

The June sun burned brightly in the sky, rays reflecting off of the calm cerulean waters of Reston Pond. Near the pond sat a barefoot Spencer, lush grass tickling her toes. Relaxing under the shade of one of the biggest weeping willows on the facility grounds, Spencer contemplated her newfound tranquility. She'd been at Willow Creek for over a month, and every day she found more about the facility to enjoy. From her amazing roommate Stephanie to the way the dining tables were adorned with vases of peonies to nineties movie nights on Thursdays... Things turned out to be much better than she'd originally thought possible.

So far, Spencer gained five and a half pounds back. It had been a battle at first, still was, in fact, but with daily group and individual therapy sessions, the brunette was starting to realize how dangerous the path she'd been going down was. More importantly, Spencer was hopeful for the future. Hanna and the girls visited constantly, and much to Spencer's surprise, her parents were consistently participating with her in additional family counseling sessions. The fact that they were taking an active role in Spencer's recovery and repairing their relationship with her meant more to the brunette than anything in the world. Even Melissa offered to fly in for some of their upcoming sessions. The Hastings were starting to become a real family again.

Closing her eyes, Spencer laid back on the grass and folded her arms behind her head. Happiness was attainable, of this she was sure. A key ingredient was still missing, though, and Spencer knew what it was.

"Hey." A man's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Spencer didn't need to open her eyes to know who it was. "You came." No question, because deep in her heart, there was never a doubt.

"I'm just sorry that it took me so long," Toby said, lying down in the the grass beside her.

Cracking an eye open, Spencer cocked her head to the side smiled. "It took me a while to get here, too."

Toby chuckled. "I mean it, Spence. You have no idea how many times I had to stop myself from coming to see you."

Spencer grew serious. "Why didn't you then?" She was genuinely curious for his response.

"Honestly?" he asked.

"Honestly."

Hand running through his hair, Toby sighed. "I guess I was a coward. When you started keeping me at a distance, I didn't know if it was me you had a problem with or something else. It hurt to find out what you were going through from the student grapevine. I know it sounds childish, but I came to the conclusion that even though you had this overwhelming secret to keep, you didn't trust or love me enough anymore to share it with me."

Spencer frowned, sitting up. "I didn't tell anyone, Toby. My eating disorder is not something I'm particularly proud of."

Following suit, Toby moved to a cross-legged position. He leaned forward, took Spencer's hands in his own. Spencer felt the familiar fluttering in her belly as she let Toby's thumbs trace gentle circles on her palms. "Spencer, there isn't a single part of you that you should be ashamed of because you are the most beautiful and resilient woman I know. I was a fool. I devolved into an immature boy because I didn't know how to put my emotional pettiness aside for the sake of your well-being. I love you. I always loved you. Never ever doubt that."

Spencer dropped her head, a shadow of a smile playing on her lips. "I love you too, Toby. You have no idea how much I missed you. Through everything, you were the first thing I thought of in the morning and the last thing I thought of before going to bed."

"And I will never be able to apologize enough for not being there for you like I should have been," Toby murmured, kissing Spencer's forehead gently. "I'm willing to spend the rest of my life trying, though."

"I'd like that," Spencer sighed, eyes fluttering closed again. She let herself fall against Toby's sturdy chest.

There beneath the weeping willow, Spencer and Toby remained in their embrace. Both of them knew there was a long road ahead to recovery, both for Spencer and for their relationship. The acceptance of the situation was conveyed without words; after all, there was no more need for talking, only healing.

And Spencer? Oh, was she ready to heal.

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I tried to convey what it is like to have that conflicting inner dialogue as best as I could; however, it's something that I really still struggle with and so it might have ended up a little more "stream of thought". Anyway, please review, and stay tuned for future stories!