Disclaimer: I don't own PLL.

A/N: All you need to know is that in this fic after Mona was caught the A messages stopped and the girls were safe. This is set when they're all in their mid-twenties, so it's about nine years after Mona was finally caught and put into a mental institution.

Also, this chapter is dedicated to laugh4life because she introduced me to PLL, and Ezria is her favorite couple :) enjoy! (and please review?)

~Aria~

She dances around the little apartment, reaching up to dust the shelves, taking care not to knock over any of the little collectibles and knick-knacks that Ezra's collected. It reminds her so much of his old apartment that she can't help but get nostalgic every time she's there. It smells good, so good. It was the only place she was ever safe before, and it still is now.

For a moment images flash behind her eyes, ones of his old desk and that scholarship he kept there. How A—no, Mona—had invaded her safe place just to prove that Aria wasn't protected there. Just to prove that, if she wanted, Mona could have snuck in the apartment and hurt Ezra, or hurt her.

Aria hears the door open and brushes all the thoughts from her mind. It's been nine years since that happened. She shouldn't be dwelling on it now. "Honey, you're home!" She says in a silky-sweet voice, mocking television wives.

"How was your day?" He asks. He drops his books and bag on the floor so he can come to where she is and lift her off her feet in an embrace.

"It was nice. I cleaned a lot, and even got rid of some old clothes from the back of my closet." She tells him. It feels good to be pressed so tightly against him.

He nods, going to the couch and immediately pulling her onto his lap. "Well, you certainly know how to have a good day off, don't you? It wouldn't be half as fun to go out with your friends, so you stayed home and cleaned."

"Stop it!" She half-heartedly punches his arm. "You know that they're all busy. I don't have that many friends anymore."

It's true; after Mona was arrested they stayed close through high school, but once they were out they all lost contact with each other. Aria thinks it's because they all reminded each other of what had happened, and it was more painful to deal with than they thought it would be. Hanna was devastated that she'd lost a friend, and as for the rest of them… well, they found it hard to trust anyone. In their minds there was still someone after them. Aria had only started finding peace once she'd gone to college and started her life anew, with Ezra. He'd even gotten a new apartment near her college, in a town just a hundred miles away from Rosewood. Far, but not too far.

"You have me." His voice brings her back to the present.

"You were working." She reciprocates, smiling. "And I like being here by myself sometimes, just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

He used to ask her that before, and it was always about A. "Just work, and painting. I was thinking of maybe doing a new piece tomorrow, one of the town but with an abstract look to it—"

"I thought this was your day off." He teases. He tells her so often that she works too hard. But, to Aria, painting isn't work. It's the best therapy anyone could have ever invented, and she loves it dearly.

She doesn't bother hitting him this time, just glaring. "Yeah, it is. I like my job, it's fun."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." He says. "But you're going to have to relax now that I'm home, because I have a special dinner planned and you're going to enjoy it."

The fake threats make her giggle, as he continues to tell her she'll stay on the couch with a glass of wine—which he procures moments after he gets up—and that she'll watch him make her a delicious meal. He's so wonderful. She does exactly as he says, teasing his cooking skills though she has to admit he's good.

It's those shining, golden moments that erase the fears that were in her head before he got back. He's always been so good to her, so good for her; it's like he came into her life because she had too much to deal with, and he was the perfect escape.

Later, they're curled up in bed, talking softly. Aria can feel her mind drifting, becoming foggy and hazy as the wine she had takes over. Next to her Ezra keeps talking so quietly it's a whisper, and then there's nothing. She slips under easily, eyelids fluttering shut.

In the back of her head a tiny, nagging voice tells her that there's something wrong. You think you're safe, but you're not. You're not safe, never safe, never ever ever ever ever safe ever. The mantra repeats and repeats until she wants to scream at the voice to shut up because it's lying to her.

The voice becomes girly, taunting her from the recesses of her mind. I might be dead, but I still have all your secrets, and I still live inside your head. You'll never be rid of me. Now that's immortality, my dear.

Aria whimpers, trying to shake the voice away. Wherever she is, her limbs refuse to move, frozen in time. She can't even beg for the voice to stop, or to explain. She knows it's Ali, but why is Ali torturing her like this, and why now?

Now the voice is changing, morphing into one that takes longer to recognize. It was so easy… so easy for her to die. She's gone, but I'm not. I'm only a hundred miles away from you. Is a hundred enough? Because I think you might want a thousand, liar. Or a million, because I will get you.

It's Mona. Aria finally recognizes the high, lilting quality of her voice. She reminds herself over and over that Mona won't ever be out of that institution unless she gets better, which would mean she wasn't dangerous. Never ever ever ever safe. The first voice remind her. Never. Not then, not now, not later.

Her arms are still trapped, and it feels like her whole body it wrapped in cloth. Aria feels it pressing into her face and her mouth. Her breath comes out in short gasps.

Maybe I'm here now. Mona giggles. Maybe right now you're dying. Maybe right now you're five feet under the ground, suffocating.

Suddenly the world rushes back around her, and Aria screams. Her arms and legs are moving, but they're tangles up in cloth. Shrieking, she throws them off and claws at the covers above and around her head until she can see and realize she's still in Ezra's bed.

"… Aria?" Ezra is still sleepy, but he sits up when he sees her shivering. "What happened?"

"I… I…." she wheezes. Short, terrified gasps come from her mouth and entire body is covered in sweat and trembling. "I can't b-breathe!"

Ezra is used to this, and he knows what to do. "Aria, it's okay. Whatever happened isn't real. You're here, in my apartment, you're with me. You're safe. You're fine, I promise, you're fine."

Aria curls into a ball and clutches to the hem of his shirt, moaning and floundering as she tries to listen to what he's saying so that she can believe it. It's just the aftermath of the ordeals Mona put her through; panic attacks. They used to plague her constantly, and Aria has forgotten how much she hates them.

Slowly, muscle by muscle, her body becomes less tense. Her lungs can expand again. She realizes that her face is streaming with tears, tears that are soaking Ezra's shirt. She allows him to pull her onto his lap.

"Was it a dream?" He asks at last. She nods, head bumping against his chin. "Was it about… everything that happened?"

"Yes." Aria whispers. Her voice sounds broken, and she inwardly curses for being so weak.

His hand trails through her hair, the other roaming the expanse of her back. "It's been a long time since you had a panic attack."

"I know. I was thinking about it this afternoon, and I guess it got into my dreams."

Ezra keeps soothing her, whispering soft, gentle words into her ears until she begins to drift off again. She's exhausted, but still it's like there's something nagging at her.

It's the realization that no matter how far she runs or how much she tries to forget, A will always be lurking in the shadows. Maybe it's karma, or really crappy luck, or coincidence, but Aria knows that she'll always be haunted until the day she dies.