(This story requires a little bit of explanation that couldn't fit in the summary before you read it. Even back before they attempted to give an explanation for Ezra's bizarre behavior in season 4, I always had a feeling that something wasn't right. Ezra's behavior towards Aria was always respectful, the entire relationship was always on her terms, he never pushed her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with-which made his insisting on her lying to her family and friends and going to the cabin with him extremely odd and out of character-and it was clear that his feelings for her in earlier seasons were genuine. And even with the explanation they gave of him writing the book, it still didn't explain all of his behavior. At least, it didn't give an explanation that I was happy with. I mean, the scene with the chick peas in the cabin? Scaring the hell out of Aria that night when she woke up in an empty bed? I don't buy that being for book research. And they never really explained it, except in an interview where they said Ezra was supposed to be A but then they got too much backlash from the fans. So one of my PLL-loving friends and I were talking about this huge plot hole one day, and I made a remark about what if Ezra had a twin and it was really his twin doing all of this stuff. It was kind of an off-hand remark and it was meant as a joke, but thus the idea for this fanfiction was born. There actually is kind of some evidence to twist things that way if one were inclined to do so. Take the Halloween episode in season 4. Ezra calls Aria to tell her to be careful, then hangs up and steps out from behind the tombstone in that weird costume. But when he was on the phone with Aria a second before, he was in normal clothes and standing somewhere in an alley. I'm just saying, not even a superhero can be in two places at once. Anyway, without further ado, here is the brainchild of a random conversation with my friend, who by the way has helped me a lot with plot points for this story. Some scenes from the show are in this story, and as always, it should go without saying that I do not own that dialogue or those parts of the story. Also, WARNING! This story is rated M for a reason. Ezra's twin in my story is a sociopath, and thus says and does some pretty disturbing things, including some bedroom activity with a certain someone in a later chapter that is not entirely consensual because she doesn't know who she's really with. May be a trigger for some. I will post a warning at the beginning of that chapter when it happens so if you are triggered by that sort of thing, you will know not to read that chapter.)

Ezra

As I followed the trail of clues that had led me here to Ravenswood, I looked back on the past five years. I tried to figure out what I'd done to lead Elijah straight to me. I'd tried to be so careful. I'd moved to a little middle of nowhere town. I'd started paying for everything with cash and money orders so as not to leave a paper trail that he could follow. God, when Aria had found that cash and I'd spun that weak lie about it…I'd thought for sure I was going to have to tell her. But I didn't know how. Even now, I felt like I needed to tell her, but I couldn't find the words. How does one tell the love of his life that he has a sociopathic twin brother who is hell-bent on destroying his life?

Oh, Christ. Aria. The only thing I'd done that hadn't been almost completely about protecting myself from my sociopathic twin brother since I'd left my family in New York was falling in love. I hadn't expected that to happen. I hadn't planned on Aria. But does anyone really plan on falling in love? And how had having an almost completely secret relationship led Elijah right to my doorstep?

My mom and Wesley had both tried to warn me. They'd tried to tell me that I was getting too careless. And that Aria was going to just become something he could use to hurt me when he did find me, which he would. Doing anything to her would have been worse than hurting me directly. He'd know that. He knew me almost better than I knew myself. But although Elijah and I may have shared the exact same genetic makeup, we couldn't have been more different.

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Elijah and I were four years old, and we were waiting with our grandparents out in the waiting room of the hospital. Mom was in labor, and we were waiting to meet our new baby brother. I couldn't have been more excited, but Elijah looked like he was trying to plan world domination. I would never forget the look on his face. In my later years, it would still haunt me. It was the first time I realized the kind of person my twin brother really was. He cared about no one but himself.

At about ten that night, Dad came out into the waiting room. He looked tired, but so happy. Clearly the baby was here.

"Okay, boys, you can come see your mom and meet your baby brother now," he said. "But be very gentle. Mom's still very tired and she's in a lot of pain, okay?"

Elijah and I followed our dad into Mom's hospital room, where we found her sitting in the bed holding the baby.

"Boys, this is your new baby brother, Wesley," she said, smiling.

I went up to Mom's bed and Dad lifted me up so I could kneel next to her and give her a hug. I was so careful not to hurt her. I remembered what Dad had said. And from the second I looked at my baby brother, I loved him to pieces. I knew he'd be the brother I'd wished Elijah was. I had visions of Wesley and me growing up to be the best of friends, practically inseparable. Like I wished Elijah and I would be. I gave Mom a kiss on the cheek and then gently, being careful not to wake him, gave the baby a kiss on the forehead.

Then it was Elijah's turn. He was so rough with Mom, and I could tell he was doing it on purpose. He was upset that he wasn't the center of attention. And I could also tell that he woke the baby up on purpose. Wesley started crying, of course. Because that was what babies did when they woke up. Everyone knew that. Except, apparently, for Elijah.

"Make him stop crying," Elijah said. "Make him stop. I don't like it."

Even at four years old, I couldn't understand how Elijah didn't get that this was the one time in his life when it wasn't all about him. I couldn't understand why he didn't love Wesley as much as I did. At the time, none of us knew the truth: he couldn't love anyone. He couldn't feel any emotions at all. And because of that, there was only one thing he wasn't capable of. Remorse.

The first time any of us realized there was something very different about Elijah was about a month later. Elijah had waited until all of us were asleep and pretended to be asleep as well. And then, ever so quietly, he snuck into the nursery and climbed into the crib with Wesley. He tried to smother our baby brother with his blanket, and would have succeeded if not for the baby monitor my parents had in the room. They heard Elijah grunting as he tightened his hold around the blanket and pushed it harder against the baby's face.

By some miracle, Wesley survived that night without any serious injuries. But I spent a heart-stopping night in the hospital with my mom. She kept asking Elijah why he would do something like that and the only response he would give was that Wesley cried too much. I was still so young, but that was when I figured out that something was wrong with my twin brother. I couldn't understand how anyone could harm a sweet, innocent baby.

Dad took Elijah home when the doctors told us that Wesley was out of danger but would have to stay the night so they could monitor him, and Mom wanted him to take me too. But I refused to leave my baby brother's side. I literally just sat there next to the incubator the whole night, reaching through the little hole and holding Wesley's tiny hand in mine. That night, I made a vow to myself and to Wesley that I was going to be the best big brother in the whole world. I was going to give him enough love for both me and Elijah, because I felt like I had to make up for his shortcomings. I somehow felt responsible for the way Elijah had behaved. After all, we were twins.

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For Wesley's fourth birthday, our parents got him a puppy. It was the only thing he said he wanted. Wesley and I both immediately fell in love with the puppy, who Wesley named Max. Of course. A stereotypical dog name. What else would a four-year-old name a dog?

I tried to ignore the look on Elijah's face when our parents brought Max out to Wesley. I could have sworn he looked excited, but in a completely different way. He saw this puppy as something he could hurt, but without the consequences that trying to hurt his little brother had come with.

He'd never tried to kill Wesley again, but he was very rough with him. Wesley had plenty of unexplained bumps and bruises, and at the tender age of three had broken his arm in a spiral fracture, but refused to tell anyone how it had happened. Once again, I refused to leave his side at the hospital. I went with him to get the x-ray and held his good hand as the doctors put a cast on his arm. I tried to tell him how cool the cast was and drew all over it for him, all of his favorite things.

I knew how he'd broken his arm. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. But for some reason, our parents couldn't see it. They couldn't see that there was something very wrong with their precious son. What parent does want to realize their son is capable of absolutely anything except remorse? That there was no limit to the things he would do to hurt any of us, but especially his younger brother? For some reason, he seemed to save all of his worst malice for Wesley. I had my fair share of injuries courtesy of Elijah, but nothing compared to what he dished out to poor little Wesley. I was as strong as he was; I could fight back. Wesley couldn't.

It wasn't even a week later that we started noticing injuries on the dog. Signs of abuse. The tip of his tail was singed off, but there was no sign of a fire anywhere. He had a cut on his paw, but he'd been inside all day. I was terrified. I knew what was happening, and I hated to imagine what the end result was going to be. But again, our parents tried to explain it all away. They didn't notice how the dog seemed terrified to be in the same room with Elijah. How he'd always cower next to me or Wesley whenever Elijah was around.

I would remember my four-year-old brother's terrified, agonizing scream a few months later for as long as I lived. I was the first one who got out to the back yard after that. And I had to throw up when I saw what Wesley had found. It was Max, or what was left of him. He was mangled and cut open, and it looked like someone had been playing with his insides. And Elijah was nowhere to be found.

"Don't you see it?" I screamed at my mom that night. "Elijah did this. He had to."

"He couldn't have done it, Ezra," my mom said calmly. "Where would he have gotten the knife?"

"Um, the kitchen. He can reach the drawers, Mom."

"But why? Why would he do something like that?"

"I don't know, Mom. I don't know. But I know he did this."

My mom refused to see it. She and my dad just buried Max in the backyard and covered the whole thing up, trying to forget it. Even though Elijah looked like it was Christmas that night. He looked like he'd had so much fun that day. It made me want to throw up all over again. And just to be safe, we never had another pet after that. Maybe some part of her knew I was right.

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Elijah and I were twelve when my mom finally saw the light. Apparently she'd had enough trips to the emergency room. Child services had been called a couple of times, but being the socialite she was, she'd just made some very generous donations to children's charities and they'd looked the other way. But after Wesley had an unexplained fall that left him in the hospital with a broken leg, she finally had Elijah taken in for psychiatric testing.

He was diagnosed as being mentally ill. I knew better. I knew they just couldn't diagnose him as what he really was. My mom had him committed to a children's psychiatric facility, where they had the best rehabilitation rate in the whole state. Even at the age of twelve, I knew there was no rehabilitating my twin brother. He would always be a sociopath.

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On Elijah and I's eighteenth birthday, he was released. And oh, was he good. He had everyone convinced he was rehabilitated for a while. Everyone but me. I still saw the same cold look in his eyes that I'd always seen. And this time, he seemed hell-bent on making my life a living hell. He scared Maggie half to death almost as soon as he met her. He tried to sabotage my college applications so I would stay in New York. And this time, all of his malice was directed at me, but much more subtly. Apparently Wesley was too easy now. He'd moved on to bigger prey. Someone who was more of a challenge.

But then, without warning, Elijah disappeared. There was no trace of him anywhere in our town. But we all knew, even my parents, that it couldn't be that easy. He was just laying low until he could really exact his revenge on all of us for locking him up for all those years. And he would start with me, because I was the one who was his exact replica. His doppelganger. But also his polar opposite. Where all there was in Elijah was darkness, the only part of myself I acknowledged was the light. I was terrified that somewhere inside me, the same capabilities existed. After all, I shared his exact genetic makeup. But if that part of me existed, I refused to let it ever come to the surface.

My mom and I both realized that I had to transfer to Hollis and leave New York when Maggie found out she was pregnant. My mom basically paid Maggie a lot of money to just go take care of it and never speak to me again. Not because she didn't care, but because she cared that much. She cared about what would happen if Elijah found out I had a child. That was when she realized I had to leave too. And that I had to change my name. I had to do everything I could to go off the grid and disappear so Elijah wouldn't find me. I would never really have a life of my own, never really be able to be happy and settle down with anyone, as long as Elijah was out there.

So off I went to Hollis. I transferred to Bumblefuck, Nowhere, also known as Rosewood, Pennsylvania. And I became a Fitz. It wasn't really that creative, but somehow I couldn't abandon my family name by changing it completely. Maybe some part of me was hoping that Elijah would find me so I could finally end this once and for all and really be able to find peace, and maybe have a chance at happiness.

And I finally found that chance, when I met Aria. She was…perfect. Completely, absolutely perfect. And honestly, the fact that we had to keep our relationship a secret was actually a good thing. Less chance of Elijah finding me and finding out that there was something in my life he could exploit. Hurting Aria would be worse than hurting me. If he laid a finger on Aria, I would kill him myself.

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I found out that Elijah was closer than ever to me when my mom offered Aria money to break up with me. I knew she didn't approve of Aria's age, but I also knew she wasn't going to meddle in the life I'd managed to carve out for myself without a damn good reason. Not seeing how happy I finally was with her. She'd even sent me a text after meeting Aria and told me that she liked her a lot. She still thought Aria was way too young for me, but seeing us together, she knew I was finally happy and that was what mattered to her more than anything else. That was why it had made no sense to me that she'd offered Aria money to break up with me the next day.

When I called to confront her about it, that was when she'd told me that I was being too careless. Elijah had figured out that I was in Pennsylvania, and it was only a matter of time before he found me. She didn't want someone as young and innocent as Aria caught up in this. I fought back, telling her that it would be more dangerous for Aria if we did break up. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that I still cared about her, even if she left me, and I'd be able to protect her better by keeping her close.

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When I drove into Ravenswood, I parked my car where no one would see and walked around town, trying to catch my brother somewhere. He wouldn't be hard to spot. All I'd have to do would be look for someone who looked exactly like me.

But instead of finding my brother there, I saw Aria and her friends instead. They were walking into a store, clearly hot on the A trail. Or so they thought. I had to wonder if my brother had somehow gotten caught up in all this, if the road they thought would lead them to A was actually leading them to Elijah. That twisted game would have been right up his alley.

I decided I couldn't waste any more time. I had to go to the address my mom had given me. She'd been trying to find him too, trying to help me stop him.

"Ezra?" I heard a voice that I hadn't heard in over two years.

I turned around, and I saw a very frightened Alison DiLaurentis. Time had not been kind to her. She looked at least five years older than when I'd last seen her, on the night she disappeared. What kind of horrors had she endured in the two years she'd spent away from home while everyone had thought she was dead?

"Alison? You're alive?" I asked, unable to hide my shock.

"Yeah, and you know, it's funny, I could have sworn I'd seen you around here the past month or so, but then when I turned around, you were gone. I thought I was imagining things."

Oh, Christ. He was here. At least he didn't know Alison was one of Aria's friends. Not yet.

"Alison, I want you to listen to me very carefully," I told her. "I'm going to tell you something no one else knows. Not even Aria."

She laughed. "So it's true about you and Aria? You got over your hang-up about age apparently."

I had to smile a little at the mention of Aria. God, I had it bad.

"Yeah, it's true," I told her. "But that's not what's important right now. That person you thought you saw? That wasn't me. This is the first time I've ever set foot in Ravenswood. Please tell me you didn't try to talk to him."

"No, I never had the chance. Why? Ezra, what aren't you telling me?"

I sighed. If Alison was going to be out on her own with no one to protect her, she needed to know. Because it wouldn't be long before Elijah figured out the connection between Aria and Alison. And then he'd try to get to Alison, to get to Aria, to get to me. He was just that twisted.

"That guy? His name is Elijah Fitzgerald. He's my twin brother," I said. "And he's dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Listen, have you seen where he goes around here? Where he lives, maybe?"

"I think so, but Ezra, what do you mean he's dangerous?"

"I mean just that. He's dangerous. He's a sociopath. I don't have time to tell you the whole story of my childhood right now and make you understand the things he's capable of, but just please take me at my word, whatever that's still worth to you."

"Okay, I believe you," Alison said. "Um, do you see that store right there? The one Aria and the rest of the girls just went into?"

"Yeah?"

"There's an alley right next to it. I think there's a door there and it leads to a loft. I've seen the guy I thought was you going there a few times. I think that's where he's staying."

"Thank you, Alison," I told her. "Listen, if you talk to Aria, please don't tell her. I haven't figured out a way to tell her about this yet, and I want her to hear it from me. I'm here trying to stop him before he realizes hurting Aria and the rest of your friends is a good way to hurt me."

"Wow, you really do have it bad. Okay, I won't tell her about your brother if you don't tell her I'm alive," she said. "Deal?"

"Deal," I chuckled. "Thanks again."

I walked away shaking my head a little. How had my life come to revolve so completely around five seventeen-year-old girls? Really? But I wouldn't have had it any other way. And right now wasn't the time to question my life choices. Right now, I needed to protect all of them no matter the cost to me.

I went down the alley Alison had told me about and sure enough there was a door there. I picked the lock and followed a staircase up to a single loft. I picked that lock too and walked in to find my worst nightmare come to life.

Elijah had found out about the girls already. He'd found out everything about all of them. This room was like a creepy shrine to them. Or, more like intensive research about all of their lives. Especially Aria. God, no. He'd figured it out. I just sat there looking around at all of the research he'd done and it truly frightened me. There were copies of some of the short stories and writing assignments Aria had done for my class. Copies of the personal writing she'd never let anyone but me read. There was enough research here on all of the girls that he could probably hold me prisoner and take my place and no one would be the wiser for a good long while.

Wait, what had I just said to myself? He could hold me prisoner and take my place and no one would be the wiser? Jesus Christ, that was it! That was his plan. It had to be. But to what end? Why? And what would he do when Aria figured it out? I knew she would. Maybe the other three (or four, if Alison revealed herself and came back to Rosewood) wouldn't figure it out, but Aria knew me well enough. She'd be able to tell the difference eventually. There would be enough subtle differences in the way he treated her that she'd be able to figure it out. He wasn't capable of love at all, much less the kind of deep, all-consuming love I felt for her. And that was bound to come through in some way or another.

I was equal parts absolutely terrified and angrier than I'd ever been in my entire life. Completely overcome with those dueling emotions, I couldn't do anything other than slam the open closet door shut and scream.

Well, if that was what Elijah wanted, he wasn't going to get it without a fight. I would figure something out. I'd figure out a way to stop him before he did that. Because if he took my place, none of those girls would be safe. Spencer was also smart enough. It would take her longer, but she'd figure out that something wasn't right too. If she figured it out, she'd tell the rest of them, and then no one would be safe. Once the girls figured out it wasn't me, Elijah would have only one logical course of action. He'd kill them with a smile on his face. He'd have no qualms about it. Hell, he'd probably make me watch while he did it, and he'd save Aria for last.

Maybe his plan was to make me realize that some part of me was like him too. Because if a hair on any of those girls' heads was harmed, I would kill Elijah myself. The part of my nature that I'd always kept at bay, the part I'd refused to acknowledge, would come to the surface in an explosive way. What I'd do to Elijah if he hurt these girls I'd come to care so much about would pale in comparison to what he did to them. He'd beg me to kill him way before I ever actually delivered the fatal blow.