The Process of Dying, a how to get away with murder fanfic

Lila sees her death coming. As soon as the bearded man's hands wrap around her neck, she knows she's dying.

She's almost unconscious when she accepts it.

Rebecca doesn't see her death coming. One minute she's upright, and the next she's not. The floor's cold. Hard. Unforgiving.

Rebecca always thought the whole 'life flashing before your eyes' thing was a myth. Why the fuck would that happen? Like, see your entire life in the split second before you die? More importantly, how the fuck could that happen?

Rebecca doesn't receive an answer to either of those questions. She doesn't see her entire life, though, so clearly her life doesn't literally flash before her eyes. Just portions. Mostly of Lila.

She isn't sure how much time passes, but she manages to focus on one image of Lila – not crying, not in the water tank, but a happier Lila – and she's okay with dying.

Lila has run out of oxygen, run out of time, run out of opportunities.

Lila has run out of life.

Lila Stangard is young, pretty, rich. Her boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend – is hot. She had a relationship with her married professor – a mistake, actually, because why else would some hitman be strangling her on the roof? – and she had a pretty damn good best friend.

A best friend. Yeah, right. You killed your friendship. Strangled the life out of it with just a few words.

Her death isn't pleasant, but the regrets are more painful than the lack of oxygen.

Rebecca's wondered about death her whole life. Like anyone, really. Wondered what it's like. Wondered what happens after, if anything. Wondered how she'd feel.

Honestly, she doesn't expect to die so soon.

Rebecca lies on Annalise Keating's basement floor and wishes she'd drowned in the water tank beside Lila. She could've avoided this whole mess by just dying then.

Or sooner.

She'd wanted to die when Lila told her she was just an escape – when she called her a trashed-out, druggie whore.

She'd wanted to die before, but she bit her tongue when Wes told her his mother killed herself. She never told Lila, because Lila's problems were more important than Rebecca's. She lied through her teeth, told Lila she was fine. She was always fine.

She wasn't fine.

She wasn't, but now, lying on Annalise Keating's cold, hard basement floor in the process of dying –

She's fine.

Lila should've kissed Rebecca. She doesn't let herself consciously think about it until the bearded man's hands are choking the life out of her. She'd have to be blind or stupid not to see the way Rebecca looked at her. Her face could be expressionless. It didn't matter – it was in Rebecca's eyes.

She almost did. More than once. She chickened out. Her fear overpowered her curiosity.

She dies not knowing what Rebecca's lips would feel like against her own.

She dies knowing she lied to Rebecca's face.

She told Rebecca she loved Griffin.

She told Rebecca she was a way to escape her stupid life.

She told Rebecca she was a trashed-out, druggie whore.

She told Rebecca her parents had raised her better (possibly the biggest lie of them all).

She told Rebecca she wasn't going to call her again, which, looking back on it, wasn't actually a lie. She'll be dead before she gets the chance to fix things.

She also lied to herself. She blamed all of her problems on Rebecca. She told herself it was all Rebecca's fault – that Rebecca was fucking with her mind – when really, it was all her own damn fault. All of it. Including her death.

She dies wishing she'd gotten the chance to apologize.

Rebecca wishes she'd blurted it out when she had the chance.

"Why the hell do you care so much?"

"Because…"

And Rebecca didn't finish her sentence. She doesn't know what exactly the words were going to be. Something like because we're friends or because, believe it or not, I actually like you.

She's afraid the words were because I love you.

Rebecca dies wishing she'd said them.

Lila refused to kill the life inside of her, no matter how much Sam pushed. She'd have to give the baby up for adoption – her parents wouldn't let her ruin the family name with a pregnancy outside of marriage. They raised her better, they'd say. She should've known not to get herself knocked up.

She won't lie to herself, especially not in her last moments. Part of the reason she refused an abortion was because it was exactly what her parents would want – no, expect.

And Lila's always loved defying her parents.

As far as Rebecca's concerned, she died the night Lila died.

Her actual death is somewhat a relief.

Lila never saw Paris. Or London. Hell, she hadn't even seen Canada or Mexico.

She thinks she would've liked to see the world with Rebecca.

Man, Rebecca really regrets not getting that tattoo.

Rebecca was right. Sam was bad for her. Griffin was bad for her.

Lila didn't listen. Why didn't she listen?

Rebecca doesn't know if she loved Wes. She loved Lila. She dies still loving Lila. But Wes is a mystery.

She decides she loved the idea of Wes.

Lila's death is painless once she blacks out. No more lungs screaming for oxygen. No more memories.

She can't tell the difference between unconsciousness and death. They're both pretty similar.

Rebecca dies faster than Lila did. The head injury drains the life out of her rather quickly – kind of like the way the blood flows from her head, pooling around her. She lingers a bit, lying on Annalise Keating's basement floor because the five asshat law students were convinced she killed Lila and was ready to sell them out for killing Sam.

Maybe if she'd told them she loved Lila, they'd have backed off.

She knows how they'd react.

Michaela would call bullshit.

Asher would crack some sort of gay joke.

Laurel would stand silently, eyes shifting from face to face, gauging the reactions of everyone else in the room.

Connor would try to disprove her and would likely fail.

Wes's face would fall, heart would break, but he would believe her.

She's not quite so sure what Annalise's reaction would be.

She doesn't have the time to care.

She doesn't even have the time to realize Annalise promised no one would hurt her.

Lila wakes up in water. It takes her a while to analyze her surroundings. She's in water because she's in a water tank.

Well, duh.

She lifts herself out of the water tank, soaking wet, clothes and hair plastered to her body. The sun's shining. She's alone. She can see what lies beyond the roof. The city's still there, but it's dead. Just like her.

She's afraid to go anywhere.

Rebecca wakes up with her cheek pressed to the floor. The floor's still cold. And hard. And now that she can see it in better lighting, it's pretty disgusting, too. Like, Annalise must never clean these floors.

She died here? Gross. What a terrible place to die.

It's certainly no water tank though.

She peels her face off the floor, and the blood holding her to it may be even worse than the floor itself. She prods the back of her head and finds the gaping wound, and it's one to rival Sam Keating's. What was she hit with? Doesn't matter. The wound isn't bleeding at least, but it's still open, and she's still covered in blood. Her face, her neck, her clothes – anything that had blood on it when she died.

Because she's dead. Rebecca's a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them.

She halfheartedly looks for the object that caused her head wound and comes up empty. She remembers everything from her life – every little detail she wishes to conjure up – but not who killed her.

Because you never knew that, idiot.

So death doesn't work miracles, apparently.

But she remembers every detail of Lila's face. Every smile, every laugh, everything. She could sit on the basement floor beside the pool of her blood and spend the rest of eternity remembering Lila.

Or she could go try to find her.

Lila sits on the edge of the roof and remembers. Anything she wants to, from her seventh birthday party to her trip to Colorado to the exact first moment she saw Rebecca Sutter. It's amazing.

Staring at the exact spot where the bearded man strangled her is not so amazing.

She slides off the edge and lands shakily on her feet. Why did she have to die in those fucking heels?

At least she seems to be drying off.

She takes this as a sign to leave the roof.

There's a door to the outside of the Keating house, but Rebecca goes upstairs instead. The first floor is empty, and Rebecca doesn't have to go upstairs to know the whole damn house is empty.

On Earth – running on the assumption that Rebecca is no longer actually on Earth – the house is most likely not empty. Then again, Rebecca's the only one in the house that's dead, so she's not really surprised that there's no one else here.

The house is otherwise completely intact. Including the goddamn trophy.

But she's alone. If she'd known she was going to spend eternity alone, she would've tried harder not to die.

Rebecca laughs aloud at that. Trying not to die. What a joke.

There's nothing left here for her. She heads to the front door and throws it open.

Lila stops in her room, just to see what it looks like.

It's empty. Actually empty. Her stuff's been packed away and given to her parents. Some of it was probably donated.

Lila doesn't stop until she reaches the front door. There's nothing left here for her, but she has no clue what may lie outside. She swallows hard, twists the doorknob, and heads for the gate.

It's like being on Earth but with a lot less people. A lot less being none. Except Rebecca, who walks down the street towards Kappa Kappa Theta. If Rebecca woke up on Annalise Keating's basement floor, then maybe Lila woke up in the water tank and didn't leave.

It's a longshot, but Rebecca's gotta start somewhere, right?

The silence is deafening. The only sound is Lila's heels hitting the pavement. Literally. Lila isn't breathing and her heart isn't beating. There's no background noise. Just the goddamn heels on cement.

She doesn't know where she's going. She follows the sidewalk and crosses streets, glancing at cars, hoping to see someone inside one. Anyone. Anyone at all. She'd even take Sam at this point.

Lila stops walking. No. She's wrong. She'd rather spend the rest of eternity completely alone than anywhere near Sam Keating.

Spending eternity alone is looking like a very real possibility right now.

Kappa Kappa Theta is empty.

Rebecca even makes herself climb up to the water tank and peer inside.

Nothing.

Damn.

At a certain point, Lila stops drying off. She'll just have to accept that she will be stuck in wet clothing with wet hair for the rest of eternity. With the fucking heels. She just had to die in heels. She's already tried to ditch them. Four times. They keep fucking reappearing.

"What the fuck is this?" she yells at the sky.

The sky is blue. Cloudless. Windless. There's light but not a visible sun.

"Death fucking sucks," Lila grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping on.

Rebecca goes home. She climbs the steps to her apartment and finds the door ajar. She nudges it open with her foot and steps in. It's the exact way she left it: a complete fucking disaster.

Rebecca walks into the bathroom to examine the blood on her face. It still looks fresh. She doesn't attempt to see the wound in the back of her head. She tries the faucet. She twists both handles, but no water comes out. She grabs a towel and wipes at her face to no avail. The blood doesn't go away.

She sits on her bed and stares out the window.

She's gotta be here for a reason, right? She's not just going to spend the rest of eternity doing nothing.

Right?

Lila walks into the Keating household on an impulse. She pokes around a bit until she spots an open door with a staircase leading to the basement. Fear creeps from her chest until she's slapped with reality. She's dead. What's there to be afraid of? Can you die a second time?

No, that's stupid. She goes down the stairs carefully, each step a loud thunk. She stops halfway down, kicks the heels off, and by the time she's at the bottom of the stairs, they're back on her feet.

She curses the heels as her eyes fall on two chairs in the middle of the room. And just off to the side is a large pool of blood. Fresh. It's misshapen – like someone had been lying in it and got up.

Lila smiles. At least she knows what she's looking for.

Death isn't a cure for paranoia. Rebecca sits on her bed for what feels like years, convinced this is some sort of fucked up game. She doesn't know if there's a god, but if there is, this is pretty fucked up. Isn't death supposed to be, like, a second chance or something?

Either way, tons of people are dead, so why is she alone?

Lila figures she can't injure herself – being dead and all. So she runs in the goddamn heels to the apartment complex. It looks just as shitty as it did when she was alive. Perfect.

She doesn't know what compelled her to look there. If anything, she'll stop and search Rebecca's apartment, 'cause why not? She's dead. She might as well dig through Rebecca's underwear drawer.

She sighs when she reaches the stairs and goes up one at a time at an even pace.

Rebecca's apartment door is already open.

Rebecca doesn't hear the footsteps.

"You're dead?" Lila exclaims. Then flinches. Maybe that's not the way to start this conversation. "What the fuck happened to you?" Also probably not the way to go.

Rebecca stares at her for what feels like forever. Who knows? Maybe it is. "Yeah," is all she comes up with. She motions to her head instead of answering the second question.

"How?"

"Bled out. Some kind of brain damage. I'm pretty sure that's what this shit on my shirt is – brain fluid. Something like that."

Lila makes a face, and Rebecca cracks a smile. "I thought I was alone," Lila admits.

"Me too."

"Why do you think we're here?"

Rebecca shrugs. "Unfinished business, maybe. Or something's fucking with us."

"What kind of 'unfinished business'?" Lila asks.

"Why the fuck would I know?"

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"Sorry."

Rebecca rolls her eyes and stands up. She looks Lila up and down and comments, "So, you haven't quite dried off yet, huh?"

"I think this is as dry as I get."

"Hmm. The blood won't go anywhere."

"I can't get rid of my fucking heels."

Rebecca laughs, startling both of them. "That's your biggest problem right now? You're stuck with those heels that I specifically told you not to buy. And I quote you'll regret it. Ring a bell?"

"Shut up."

Silence falls between them. Lila clears her throat.

"So what do we do now?" Lila asks. "I mean, there's gotta be something else, right? We can't just be stuck here forever."

"Maybe we're not. Maybe we can go anywhere."

"Anywhere?"

"Leave Philadelphia," Rebecca elaborates. "See the world. Just the two of us."

Lila smiles slightly. "As nice as that sounds…there are other dead people. Where are they?"

"Maybe this is what death is. Maybe you get what you want most."

"Yeah? And what's that for you then?" Lila questions, raising an eyebrow.

Rebecca's expression softens. "You."

If Lila had a heartbeat, it'd be pounding out of her chest. "But how would that work?" Lila presses, shifting under Rebecca's gaze. "I didn't even know you were dead. And it wasn't like you died right after me."

"I don't know. I'm new to this too."

"But why am I new to this? I've been dead since August."

"Is there really time after death though?"

Lila frowns. "Good point." She sighs. "This is so fucked up. And so is your head. You need to get that cleaned up."

"I told you – I can't. The blood won't go anywhere."

"There's gotta be something we can do," Lila grumbles.

"Maybe we have to finish our business or something," Rebecca suggests. "Maybe then we can move on or whatever."

Lila purses her lips, thinks it over. "Fine. But you're going first."

"I lied when I said I didn't like Chipotle," Rebecca says.

"I knew it!"

"Yeah, yeah. Your turn."

"I didn't even think Sam was that hot. He had a big dick, but he was pretty old."

"Told you."

Lila rolls her eyes. This whole 'telling the truth' thing isn't working out too well.

"I told you I was fine a lot. And I wasn't."

Lila stares at Rebecca for a long time. Rebecca won't meet her eyes. They sit cross-legged on the bed facing each other, and Rebecca stares at her hands in her lap.

"I told you that you were a trashed-out, druggie whore. I told you that our friendship was just a way for me to escape my life. I told you that my parents raised me better. I lied. All of it – it's all lies."

Rebecca meets her eyes now, eyebrows furrowed. "I should've gotten a tattoo."

"Bec –"

"It's fine. Forget it. We're dead. Might as well start over, right?"

Lila nods. "I dragged you to the mall because I knew you'd never admit you actually enjoyed spending time with me."

"I got you drunk because you were a fucking train wreck, and it was hilarious to watch."

Lila feigns offense and shoots, "I pretended I couldn't walk right when I was drunk so you'd have to haul my ass home."

"I love you."

Lila opens her mouth to fire off something else, but she stops. "Wait – you – you love me? Like, really love me?"

"Yeah. Don't make me regret saying it."

Lila squeals, and Rebecca cringes.

"Don't do that either."

Lila smiles widely, but it slowly falls. "I don't deserve you."

"I don't deserve you either, so I guess we're even."

Lila scrambles to her feet and holds her hand out. She waits for Rebecca to take it and pulls her up.

"What are we doing?" Rebecca asks cautiously, letting Lila tug her by the hand out of the apartment.

"I have an idea."

They end up in the bar Rebecca worked at. It's empty, like everywhere else, and as dirty as always. Lila pulls Rebecca inside and beams, swinging their arms, fingers knotted together. "This is where we met," Lila declares.

"So?"

"So you've got to, like, come full circle or something, right?"

"What shit are you smoking, Stangard?"

Lila shrugs. "Got any better ideas?"

She doesn't. "What are we supposed to do?"

Lila smiles and rolls her eyes. "Duh. Finish things."

She drops Rebecca's hand and slides a hand around the back of Rebecca's neck. Her fingers carefully avoid what can only be called a gaping hole in the back of Rebecca's head, and Lila pulls Rebecca down, her other hand twisting into Rebecca's shirt.

It tastes like blood and hope and the promise of an eternity.