Sing Along Spoby One-Shots

Skipping Stones

A/N: This one is going to be sad.. and here's why..

Prompt: "I was your cure, and you were my disease. I was saving you, but you were killing me."

Hey, don't blame me.. okay, blame me.. but also blame my long time best friend, partner in crime in hurting the hearts of those around us by writing sad, sad things: laylafetsko for giving me the song suggestion..

You must love me.

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Stop the world from spinning around.
Feels like the sky is falling down.

And it was.
All around her.
Avoiding her.
Crushing her.
Missing her.
Hitting her again.

The world is spinning.
The sky is falling down on her.
And she decides that if, eventually, this killed her, she'd be okay with that.

She'd end the pain.
She'd leave Radley.
She'd leave Rosewood.
She'd do it all so fast.
So fast.
She should feel guilty.
Maybe she would have if she wasn't in Radley;
broken where she was supposed to be healing;
dead inside;
without Toby.

Can't breathe in,
I can't breathe out.
I'm afraid that I might drown.

The weight of his death sat on her lungs. She couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe.

She barely remembered being found. She was a heap on the forest floor, dead to the world, in a different sense than Toby had been. Her body lived on; forced air through her lungs although she felt that she couldn't breathe without him. She remained in a catatonic state, on the forest floor, arms and knees scraped and bruised, mere feet away from the motionless body she had kissed, explored, memorized, loved. And when she was found, she was shipped off to Radley because maybe she is crazy. After all, she loved him with all she had, and he never really loved her at all. She loved him even when she knew she meant nothing to him. Even when she knew that all she was to him was a pawn; a game he could play and have constantly at his fingertips.
She loved him anyways.
With all of herself.
C r a z y.

Can't stay afloat,
I'm just
skipping stones.

She's drowning.
She has become lost,
content with pretending she doesn't know who she is, content with nobody knowing who she is.

She doesn't want to be Spencer Hastings.
Spencer Hastings loved too much.
Cared too much.
Hurt too much.
Lost too much.
Turning a blind eye to her identity, to who she had been and who she had become.
It was easy.

She's not Spencer Hastings.
Because Spencer Hastings loved Toby Cavanaugh.
Spencer Hastings couldn't live without him.
Couldn't stand.
Couldn't be.
Couldn't breathe.

And when twenty-four hours was up, she was stuck. Dr. Sullivan had found her; had given her identity back to her.

And she laughed bitterly.
Bitter.
Because for twenty-four hours, she wasn't Spencer Hastings.
She was Jane Doe.
Jane Doe didn't feel pain.
Or heartbreak.
Or love.
Anything.