I don't own Pretty Little Liars, I just like filling in some of the blank spaces they leave us.

(Fairly graphic description of an anxiety attack below. If that could be a trigger for you, please read with caution!)

They've promised that dreams can come true, but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too.

Oscar Wilde

Spencer was bleeding out right where she lay on the forest floor. Through the cloudy haze that blurred her vision, she could see the pool of blood soaking the ground beneath her prone form. Her lungs filled, making it impossible to breathe. She was drowning in her own blood and she couldn't find it in herself to care. Why should she? What did she have to fight for now? She had nothing left. No more will to fight. She was done.

She glanced down again and her feet were flying across the forest floor, running as if for her very life. She was still covered in blood but it wasn't hers this time. It was Toby's. His broken body was just ahead of her, lifeless eyes staring up at the dark sky. She ran toward him, frantic to help him, to ensure he wasn't actually dead as he appeared to be… even though she knew in her heart that there was nothing she could do for him. He was already gone. But no matter how fast she ran, she could never get any closer. He was always just outside her reach.

Her feet stumbled and she pitched forward, her knees hitting the ground hard. Sharp branches pierced her palms. She glanced up at the sudden flash of lightning, and Toby was standing over her, his face partially obscured by the dark hood pulled over his head. Spencer's blood ran cold, horror racing through her. His eyes were as cold as the ice that suddenly coursed through her veins. Nothing he could do to her physically could compare to the pain of seeing those beautiful blue eyes, always before so tender and warm, turned on her with such hatred and contempt. His gloved hand reached for her, and she flinched away, panic flooding every cell of her being. But there was nowhere to go.

Tears streamed down her face, hysterical sobs gripping her chest as she fought to speak his name. But it was useless. She couldn't breathe, much less plead with the man she'd so resolutely believed had loved her. Spencer fought for even a single breath, gasped frantically for air. But there was no relief. Her chest constricted in agony, lungs burning.

A scream burst from her lips, but it made no sound. She was trapped. There was no way out. No escape from the torment.

Spencer jerked awake, her lungs still screaming for air. Her body was drenched in sweat. Frantic eyes swept over her surroundings. She wasn't in the woods. But she wasn't in her bedroom either. It took much longer than it should have for her to recognize the foreign room. The loft. She was at the loft. The pieces slowly came together in her mind. Toby lay beside her, his expression perfectly smooth and serene in peaceful sleep. His arms lay loosely around her, even in unconsciousness holding her close.

He was fine. They were both fine.

Her body couldn't seem to catch up to that fact, though. From head to toe she trembled as if unseen hands shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, so hard she feared it might actually burst inside her. She could no more take a substantial breath than if someone were holding her head under water.

Spencer knew it was only an anxiety attack, and it certainly wasn't the first she'd had. But knowing what it was didn't make it any easier to bring it under control.

Beside her, Toby stirred, sensing her distress. "Spence?" he called, still mostly asleep.

A strangled cry was her only response. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn't so much as take in oxygen, much less make her mouth form words. That feeling of helplessness only made her situation worse.

"Hey," he crooned to her, coming quickly awake at seeing her in such a state. "Spencer, shhh." He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I've got you. It's okay, I promise. Just breathe." He rolled onto his side, spreading one hand over her back and pressing her chest firmly against his. "Breathe," he coaxed her softly, taking a deep breath himself so she could feel his chest moving against hers.

Spencer concentrated with all her might on matching the rate of her breathing to his. It was a lot harder than it should have been to do something so simple. Spots of light danced around the edges of her vision as she continued to hyperventilate. Tremors still shook the entire length of her body. Tears leaked from her eyes, streaming unchecked down her cheeks. The sounds of hysteria coming from her mouth mortified her. They were neither sobs, screams or gasps but somehow a combination of all three.

Toby continued his attempts to soothe her. She couldn't even begin to process what he said, but the words themselves didn't matter so much. The sound of his voice was comforting against her ear. She could feel the love in his voice just as tangibly as she felt his tender kisses against her hair and her face.

She hated to wake Toby. She knew it hurt him to see her like this, knew it broke his heart to witness the damage their time apart had done. No matter how deeply he'd hurt her, she still couldn't stand to cause him pain. But she needed him, needed to know that he was there and that he loved her. That she wasn't alone.

Spencer squeezed her eyes tightly shut and pressed her face into Toby's shoulder, burrowing closer into his protective embrace. Eventually she could take a breath without feeling that her lungs were going to burst.

"That's it," he whispered when he felt her finally beginning to calm down. "Deep breaths." He breathed with her, and this time she could actually match the movements of her chest to his, even if her shoulders did shudder mid-inhale. "Are you all right?" Toby asked much later.

"I think so…" Spencer mumbled. She was exhausted. The panic attack had taken a very thorough toll on her body. Her limbs felt like they'd taken on the consistency of water; she was certain they wouldn't support her if she was foolish enough to try to stand. She'd surely end up on her face. Her brain was still sluggish. Everything around her felt surreal, like she was there but not really there at all. Like she was observing everything from outside her own body. Or like she herself wasn't even real. It was a strange, unnerving feeling. Her arms clung to Toby, using him as her anchor to reality.

"You really scared me," he admitted, running a gentle hand over her hair, brushing it back from her tear-streaked face. "I was starting to wonder if I should take you to the hospital when you couldn't breathe."

She shook her head. "It just… had to pass…"

"Still…" he sighed deeply. "I hate seeing you like that and not being able to do anything to help."

"You did help," she assured him, her voice almost too weak to even be considered a whisper. "Just by being there." She snuggled into him, letting the warmth of his body continue to calm her. "I'm sor…" she attempted to say after a while, still feeling guilty for waking him so abruptly in the middle of the night.

His finger at her lips cut her off. It was replaced a heartbeat later by his lips. "Don't apologize, Spencer. Please." He kissed her lightly again. "Try to sleep," his voice urged quietly.

She hesitated, fearful that if she fell asleep again she'd just end up trapped in the same nightmare that woke her in the first place. Her body screamed for sleep, but her mind clung to wakefulness in an effort to protect itself.

"I'll wake you up if you start to have the dreams again."

"Promise?"

He nuzzled his nose affectionately against hers. "I promise."

"Okay," she conceded, knowing that she was already succumbing to sleep anyway. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Always." He was speaking the truth, she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

Spencer gave in to the exhaustion that seeped all the way to her bones. She fell asleep with his arms holding her, his fingers playing in the long strands of her hair, and his warmth surrounding her. And the nightmares left her in peace.