Spoby One-Shots [COMPLETE]

Only Us

TW- depression, mention of suicide & infant death

Midnight. It was so dark that not a soul could see what was in front of them without the help of a flashlight. The grass was still damp from the evening's rain- Toby Cavanaugh could tell, as he accidentally stepped in a puddle, nearly ruining his boot and lower half of his uniform slacks. It was his turn to search the woods for any unusual behavior. There was never anything extreme, just the occasional group of teenagers looking to get high. But nothing like that had happened in months.

He was glad that his first day back at work was this simple. He and his wife, Spencer, had endured an extremely hectic few months before he had returned. They had been preparing for their first child, a baby girl, to be born. But there were complications, and their daughter passed away three minutes after her birth. They were both heartbroken, and Spencer was definitely hurting the most. She had been more excited for their daughter's arrival than her husband, if that was even possible. He understood the connection, though. Spencer had carried that baby girl inside of her for nine months, loving her more and more every day. To have that ripped away in the span of three minutes was just cruel.

Toby searched the woods, counting down the minutes until his shift was over and he could go home to his wife. Suddenly, he heard a small noise coming from a few yards away. He ignored it at first, though it did startle him, and he assumed it was a raccoon or an opossum. But he heard it again, and this time it sounded more like a cry. "Hello? Is anybody out there?" he called. The noise continued, and it became obvious that whatever that noise was coming from, it was from something- or someone- that couldnt answer back. He followed the noise, listening as it got louder as he came closer. Then it was right in front of him.

A baby.

This poor infant was completely abandoned, or so it seemed. He picked up the crying child, his paternal instincts kicking in. "Shh, it's okay." he said, attempting to comfort the child. The baby seemed only a few weeks old, and it continued to cry and wail as Toby called for backup.

-

It was three in the morning now. Spencer knew she needed to be asleep, but there was something keeping her up. She sat alone, in the nursery that was meant for her baby girl, in a rocking chair her husband had made for her when they first started dating.

She listened to the mobile's rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" as it slowly turned. She knew her baby would've loved this. She would've given her daughter the world if she could. It had been three weeks of pain and heartache, and she just wanted it to be over.

Spencer heard footsteps come up the stairs, and she knew that it was Toby. He would've scolded her- out of love, of course- for being up this late. It wasn't good for her, and they both knew it. But it had become their norm. Most days since their daughter died, Spencer would wake up in the middle of the night, crying. Toby would always be there to comfort her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but tonight he wasn't. He had to go back to work, and she knew that eventually she would have to, too. She dreaded the thought of going back to work and seeing nothing but her coworkers pitying her and hearing nothing but "I'm so sorry for your loss,". She despised being pitied.

"Hey, you." she said upon seeing her husband enter the nursery, "How was work?"

"What are you doing up?" He asked immediately.

"I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about Christina," Spencer admitted, referring to their deceased daughter.

"You really need to get some sleep," Toby said, trying to bring her to their bedroom.

"It seems like all I do is sleep," Spencer said, "I can't eat. I can't talk to you or even my own mother. All I do is sleep,"

Toby crouched to Spencer's level, looking into her mocha-colored eyes. "Things are going to get better, Spence. I promise. You have to stop beating yourself up about this."