She's been sitting in The Truck for twenty eight minutes, seven songs, and one weather announcement when she sees the curtains in Jenna's window twitch, like she's been expecting them to all along. She imagines Noel turning to Jenna and saying 'Spencer's just sitting out there.' She knows it'll make Jenna smile.

She meant to park The Truck in his driveway, get out and run back home as fast as she could, but once she got here… she couldn't do it. She knows that this is the last time she will get to sit in it and as stupid as it is, that kind of breaks her heart all over again. Aria would say it's is a symbol of her relationship with Toby and as douchey as it is, Spencer thinks in this case her hypothetical literary interpretation would be right on the money, because the thought of shutting the door and turning her back on The Truck makes her chest feel all tight and achey in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with an inanimate object and everything to do with leaving Toby behind – because he might be the one who left, but that's what she's doing: moving into a new realm of secrets and sleuthing and A while he fades into the distance with the meagre knowledge she granted him, as stale and meaningless as old bread, and the mistaken belief he's the only one who cares.

She stares at the spot where the dashboard meets the passenger side window, deliberately positioning her peripheral vision so she can't see the empty driver's seat. The second she stopped the car, she'd removed herself from it like it was burning because it felt wrong. That was Toby's seat and as long as she didn't have to look at it, empty, she could pretend he was there, that it was just another day when he would pick her up outside her house and they would spend hours in here like it was their house – because it was their home like their houses couldn't be. They used to drive around just talking and listening to music or looking out the window, until they were so fed up with not kissing that they had to pull over to kiss (she'd made so many parking jokes that Toby used to roll his eyes whenever she said the word). It still smells like him – like sawdust and toothpaste and fresh air. She'd scrubbed her perfume off before she got in today, because she didn't want her own smell to overpower it. He'd clearly made an effort to clear the truck of every vestige of him – gone were the playing cards in the glove-box (the first time Spencer had managed to beat him at poker, she'd bought an entire chocolate cake from the grocery store to celebrate and they'd eaten the whole thing parked on the hill at the Rosewood border, until they were sick), the spare shirt he kept on the backseat (precautionary, after she'd ripped the buttons off three and he was forced to go to work with his shirt open), the picture of Spencer poking her tongue out that was taped under the steering wheel. But there was still the mark on the passenger side window from when she'd thrown her keys onto the dashboard and scratched it (one of the few times Toby had gotten angry at her). She'd give anything to have him back now, yelling 'You defaced The Truck! You defaced The Truck!' Some things are too permanently etched to remove.

Her eyes fill with tears. She fucking loves The Truck. She doesn't want to leave it at his parents' house; the very idea is making her want to throw up and she feels remorse at abandoning it here, at a place where Toby was so miserable – like it's a puppy instead of a lump of metal. But she can't keep it in her driveway, and she doesn't want to. It doesn't belong to her.

Reaching out, she grazes the door handle with her fingertips, the furthest she's gotten so far. She's just closed her hand around it – in another five minutes maybe she'd have actually opened the door – when she hears the clatter of someone unlocking the Cavanaugh front door and she draws her hand back quick, because for some reason she hates the idea of Jenna or Noel being there when she gets out, watching her defeat (Jenna may not literally be able to watch her, but the word still fits with the way that girl knows everything that goes on around here). But it's not Jenna who emerges from the house – it's Toby's dad.

Oh, fuck she thinks miserably, closing her eyes. Maybe Jenna would have been better. She can be openly bitchy to Jenna. But Toby wouldn't like her to be rude to his father.

Not that he'd ever know. Not that he doesn't now believe her capable of that betrayal and worse.

Her heart starts beating uncomfortably fast as George Cavanaugh steps down off the porch and walks towards her, his expression sombre. He looks nothing like Toby.

He approaches the window on her side and motions for her to wind the window down, steely grey eyes boring into hers. Shaking, she obeys and gives him a weak smile, hoping for… she doesn't know what.

'Hi, Mr Cavanaugh,' she stammers.

'Spencer,' he replies blankly. 'You're running the engine.'

She leans over towards the driving seat and turns the key; the familiar hum of the engine dies down and a lump forms in her throat; another step closer to leaving it behind.

She looks back at him – he's just standing there, looking at her. His eyes do not move from her face. It's making her itch and she wants badly to throw her hands up in front of her, blocking his gaze. He's just watching her. He's never been particularly friendly to her – he knows Jenna doesn't like her and somehow even this cold, unapproachable man has slipped under the thumb of that girl, and even the fact that his own son liked her – loved her – was not enough to change his opinion. He doesn't like her and he knows she knows it. She's never liked him either – not when he had the power to protect Toby from Jenna and did nothing. But as she's just driven his son out of town, she feels somewhat more like the guilty party right now. She's pretty sure Toby would not have told his dad why he was leaving town. But Jenna would. Jenna knows everything.

'I just… Toby left his truck at my house,' she says at last. 'I think he wanted me to… sell it or something. Because he hadn't paid me back for it yet. But I still want him to have it.'

'He's gone,' Mr Cavanaugh says, and behind that cardboard face she sees a glimpse of – sadness? Regret? Anger?

'I know,' she swallows. 'He left me a note. But I thought maybe you could keep it for him… for when he comes back. Or even sell it, and send him the money. It's just; um… it does still belong to him.'

He stares at her for a moment. Spencer can't help it – she searches his face for a bit of Toby, anything. But there's nothing of him in this man. Not for the first time, she wishes she could have met Toby's mother. It's always confounded her, how someone as bright and warm and good as Toby could have come from so unfeeling a man, so unwelcoming a house. The Miracle Of Toby.

'I will keep the truck for him,' Mr Cavanaugh says slowly.

'Thank you –'

' – but I would like to know something.'

Her mouth drops open.

'I… okay…'

'Did you love him?'

The simple question from a man who had never, ever wanted to know before brings tears flooding to Spencer's eyes and she doesn't try to blink them away. She gulps back a sob and crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at the dash, horrified with herself for breaking down, let alone in front of Toby's father – who should not have to watch her cry over this – but unable to pull herself together. She is bleakly aware that Jenna is probably 'watching'. Seriously – this is what she has been reduced to?

Does she love him?

She's seventeen years old and the best memories of her life all take place in the year that she's known him. She used to dream about graduating from Harvard or Yale and beating Melissa at life and winning her parents' approval, and now the only thing she dreams of is being free to be with him. She's been sitting in The Truck for thirty two minutes because she can't bring herself to say goodbye to the inanimate object that is the last thing tying them together.

'I do,' she manages to say – hoarse, her voice thick with tears. I do, I do, I do, I do, I do…

She can't imagine ever not loving him again.

There's a pause, and then she hears Mr Cavanaugh say 'So do I.'

She looks up at him, slightly stunned, and finds that his face has softened into what can only be described as empathy. She realizes she's looking at the Original Person Who Loves Toby But Hurt Him Anyway, though she hadn't realized he was aware he'd done any such thing.

'I love my son,' Mr Cavanaugh says quietly, putting his hand on the side of the door. 'I know Toby has sometimes doubted that, with… the way things are in our house and the way I am. But I love him very much and I know that it is possible to hurt him even when… even when that is the way things are. I think… perhaps you didn't mean to. I have never been able to properly explain to myself, let alone to Toby, why I have not been the father I wanted to be and why I have let some things happen the way they did. I… imagine there are some things you have not been able to explain as well.'

Spencer stares at him, shocked beyond belief at his perception (she is not at all used to adults understanding) and at this, the longest speech she has ever heard him make. There are tears in his eyes and he looks at her imploringly.

'I am telling you this because Toby will be back, Spencer. He is not the kind of man to leave things unfinished and you and he are unfinished. If my mistakes with my son can be worth something, let it be that I have the wisdom to warn you – use this time apart to consider how to explain to Toby that you are sorry… and that you still love him. I know him, and I think that will be enough, one day.'

When he finishes speaking, Mr Cavanaugh closes his eyes for a second, like he has tired himself out with all the truth, and when he opens them again he gives her a shaky smile, the corners of his mouth turned up nervously, like they are out of practice at smiling just as he was out of practice being friendly. Spencer is speechless. She can't imagine what has changed Mr Cavanaugh since the last time she'd seen him – two weeks after the Shovel Incident (which coincided with her breaking up with Toby), on the street outside Lucky Leon's, he had glared at her with a dislike as fervent as Jenna's.

As if he were reading her mind, he says 'I have come to realize that if I ever want Toby to stop running away, I – I need to give him some reasons to stay,' he says hoarsely. 'You have… always been a big one.'

She had often hated Mr Cavanaugh, because he was Toby's parent – Toby's, not Jenna's – and he had never protected his son. But she had only recently come to understand that sometimes the people you love are the ones you hurt the most, and no-one knows why but you. She has come to understand why you might hang onto hope you can be forgiven.

'I – I'm trying to make it so when he gets back… I'll be able to explain everything to him,' she says. 'But it might not be possible.'

'Try,' Mr Cavanaugh says firmly, and turns and walks back to the house. She watches him go, and thinks of that old adage about men appearing smaller when you get inside their heads. She hopes one day she can get a bit of his clarity, about what it is she should do in order to fix things. She knows it probably won't be as easy as giving advice to another person about how not to repeat her mistakes.

Suddenly, Spencer knows that she has to get out of The Truck – that if she doesn't do it right now, she will never be able to get out. She's got to do it now. Now.

Now.

She throws the door open and trips out, stumbling slightly on the concrete and pushing it closed behind her. She tries to cling to Mr Cavanaugh's words (Toby will be back) (you and he are unfinished) (he will be back) (try) and the hope that they give her – she tries to let go of The Truck.

'Bye, Truck,' she whispers, giving it one last pat on the door, and with her heart in her mouth she leaves it behind and starts down the street back to her house, holding back tears that seemed to come more easily these days, hoping with everything she has that one day soon she will be able to run back.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! I am still incredibly sad about the current state of Spencer and Toby; I just love Spencer for being so brave. I've always loved that truck, too. I wanted to write about the moment that made Spencer cry when she was just sitting in there listening to the radio, and it morphed into an encounter with Toby's father. I wonder if the show will ever introduce us to Toby's father and Jenna's mother – I think it would be interesting to see the circumstances that managed to foster such a lovely person as Toby and such an awful one as Jenna, to witness the often referenced way Jenna controls that household and to see Toby around his family. It's obvious he's not close to his dad but as he's Toby I can only imagine that being his father's fault; at the same time, I didn't want him to be one dimensionally cruel and cold. I know this was a bit vague about Mr Cavanaugh's motivations and feelings, but I thought it was necessary as it was in Spencer's perspective – and maybe the show will get into specifics at some point, which I didn't want to contradict.

I would love reviews! Criticism, comments, anything you feel like leaving me would be appreciated.