A/N: Hey there, chickadees. Welcome to a new AU Emison fic. I'm not going to waste a bunch of time doing an intro, I'll let this chapter speak for itself and allow any and all questions for the next note. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of this new journey! :)
The day of her release was a winter afternoon like any other. A dark grey hue covered most of the sky above spare a few clouds feathered throughout. The chilly, almost freezing, temperature gave a bite in the air. The breeze coming over the hill in Hawley, Pennsylvania sent a chill down her spine. Twenty-two and a half months earlier, she had entered the jail with a three-quarter length sleeved top that no longer suited the weather without a jacket.
There was a calm that came from her freedom. A sense of peace danced across her skin despite the overwhelming presence of the corrections officer escorting her to the wrought iron fencing that surrounded the perimeter on this side of the compound. She looked down at grass that she hadn't seen up close in some time due to the preference of hot, porous asphalt in the outdoor areas. Though it was dying in the sharp breeze, Alison DiLaurentis was just starting to come back to life.
She could see the car waiting for her at the end of the narrowed concrete walkway as she was escorted from the release area of the prison. She took a deep breath in the realization that she was headed home. Joining her hands together to spin the now unfamiliar metal band on her finger, she smiled, remembering the memories once associated.
Last night, lying in her bunk, she was able to remember almost everything. She remembered the chill against her fingertips as Emily began the phrase 'With this ring…' sliding the sleek silver band up her ring finger. The peace that radiated through her body as Emily's smile met her eyes saying 'I do.' The feeling of the back of Emily's hand against her lips while the pastor introduced them as a married couple for the first time. She had never felt as secure as she did with Emily by her side. Alison fantasized about their reunion, sending a broad smile across her face in anticipation. Things would go back to normal. They had to go back to normal.
Her nearly two years in jail had been trying. But as the dark black metal fence opened to send her back into the real world, Alison had a guttural feeling that her life was only going to become more complicated from here. Nothing about her life was the same as when she entered, though she had every intention of correcting any wrongs once she returned home.
Approaching the blue hatchback, Alison smiled half-heartedly at the driver through the tinted windows as she unlatched the door. The woman in the driver's seat was Alison's most-trusted confidant over the past two years. She first noted the continued lines surrounding her mouth and eyes which exemplified both her older age, but also the constant flux between elation and grief that had occurred over the past years since Alison went away.
"Hey, Pam," Alison stated while exhaling as she leaned over the console to hug her mother-in-law.
Squeezing her close, she replied in relief, "Oh, Alison. It is so good to hold you again, sweetheart."
"You, too."
Letting go of each other, Alison rubbed the top of Mrs. Fields' hand. She had missed all forms of personal touch during her time away. Just feeling the divots and intricacies of someone else's hand gave Alison more relief than walking out of her cell and into the open air for the first time. Alison struggled to let go despite knowing that Mrs. Fields needed both hands to drive her home.
As they pulled away, Alison rolled down her window to let the air flow through her hair. Closing her eyes, she could feel the light mist coming off the freshwater lake nearby. Her hand lingered out the window relishing in the force of the wind pushing her hand back as she teased the pressure from inside and outside of the car. Experiencing something as simple as driving in a car for the first time in years sent a rush through her veins and sent a tingling sensation straight to her extremities. She was alive again.
The drive from Hawley back to Rosewood took over two hours, and as time continued to pass, Alison grew more anxious. She knew things would be different with Emily. Her wife hadn't come to visit in close to a year due to their current separation. But they both knew maintaining a marriage behind bars would be challenging to say the least. Emily continued to support her through writing Alison letters claiming it to have been too hard to see her behind glass. That the visits would be a reminder of a reality that Emily never wanted to face. Alison understood that more than anyone; she wasn't supposed to have been there. Everyone close to her knew that to be true.
"So, how is everyone?" Alison broke the silence.
"They're good. Excited to see you."
Alison sensed the hesitation behind Pam's words. There was something that Alison was missing; she could feel it. Though they had only interacted through glass the past two years, there was an evident bond that had been built absent of touch or genuine interaction. Once Emily had decided to protect herself and no longer visit, Pam's visits increased. At one point only once a month, Alison had soon grown anxiously excited for her weekly visits. It was Alison's primary connection to the rest of the world. Pam had quickly picked up on the things Alison most cared to know: how was she, what were the highlights of the week, how did the weather feel, what was the best meal of her week and how exactly did it taste, and of course, every intricacy of Emily's. Pam spent the entire hour allotted going as deep into detail as she could, describing the feeling of mist on your skin to the precise spices put into her chili for family dinner that week to noting the finest grimaces in her daughter's face when Pam was recounting their visit from the previous week. It was the highlight of all of Alison's weeks, and knowing that those moments would never occur again brought tears to Alison's eyes.
But when voice is a main source of identification, the main indication of right and wrong in Alison's life and the only point to cling onto day in and day out for years and years on end, Pam's hesitation was apparent. And because of their history since being detained, every brief difference, no matter how small, was noticeable.
"Good. I am so relieved just to be able to sleep in my bed tonight. Everything else can wait, you know? I want to have a day or so to breathe."
Mrs. Fields nodded silently, "Yeah, I know that Emily has had a lot on her mind recently. It will be good for you two to speak."
As they rounded into Alison's neighborhood, breath began escaping her. Alison fidgeted with her fingers, adjusting her now baggy clothes to better suit her frame. Mrs. Fields reached back across the console to squeeze Alison's forearm. Her heart pounded as she hesitantly climbed out of the car, Mrs. Fields coming around to rest her hand on Alison's back, guiding her to the door.
"Go on in, sweetheart."
Turning the front doorknob, a burst of heat from inside flooded against her skin. It settled in along with the smell of pine. She paused to take in a deep breath of the air around her, noting the difference between it and the stale air she had become so familiar with while she was away.
Entering directly into the living room, Alison's brother and wife stood immediately to greet her. Jason walked with a distinct skip in his step to wrap his sister in his arms. Alison leaned back to drag her hands through his hair and early stages of a beard forming on his face.
"You're here! When did you get in?"
"While Pam was going to get you. You know California's my home, but come on, Ali, you're my life." His hands rested on her face as he stared at her intently.
Alison followed his eyes while he traced over every inch of nuance he had missed over the past two winters. Though Alison could imagine Jason's desire to stare at her for the remainder of the evening, a hand on his shoulder interrupted him.
"Jase?"
"Right, right, right. So sorry." He ushered backward to allow Emily to step forward.
Seeing her for the first time in nearly 12 months took Alison's breath away. Emily never failed to capture every feature of beauty Alison desired. From the way her chestnut hair draped over her shoulders without pause to the glow of her olive complexion when she smiled, Alison was forever entranced.
"Hi, beautiful," Alison whispered, tucking her head into her wife's chest.
"Hey…," she replied, placing a pleading kiss on her forehead.
Emily's hands trailed down from Alison's shoulders toward her waist in attempts to find where the extra material of Alison's shirt ended and her wife's body began. Alison shivered under her touch, feeling immediate desire despite others being in the room. She looked up at her as Emily attempted to rationalize the woman in front of her.
"I'm so happy to be home with you; you have no idea."
"So are we," Emily replied, looking behind her at Mrs. Fields and Jason, both of them understanding the subtle hint behind her words.
"Well, Al, I'm here for the next two weeks. I already told Emily that I was snagging you for dinner sometime this weekend, okay sis? I'll see you soon."
"And I'm coming over tomorrow to make sure that everyone's adjusting well." Mrs. Fields placed her hands on both Alison and her daughter's shoulders in reassurance.
Emily closed the door behind their relatives as Alison began walking through her home. Not much had changed in the way of furniture or character, but little aspects of what she had left behind felt missing. The house smelled differently though Alison brushed it off as the freshly cut Christmas tree in the dining room window. Small spots on the bookshelves surrounding the TV in the living room appeared to be empty, but anything could have been removed from there to declutter. She reached out to feel the granite countertop beneath her fingertips, pulling away slightly at the remembrance of the chill it carried even with a fire going.
A few months before saying their vows, Emily and Alison walked into their dream home. Minutes outside Rosewood proper, both of the women loved the open lot that would allow for their family to grow. Though an older home, it had been recently flipped to remain new while keeping the Craftsman interior touch they wanted. Alison remembered the gasping grasp of Emily's hand reaching across the threshold to pull her inside the moment she saw the interior. From the dark wood to the vaulted ceilings to the expansive front porch, it was everything that they had imagined and more. Alison's fascination with the small details throughout the home made being immersed back into its beauty even more enrapturing. She focused on the small red wine stain made on the rug beneath the island from that one night her wife's sudden wardrobe change into something that left little to the imagination caused her almost empty glass to fall to the floor. She noted the divot etched out as she and Emily moved their large dining room table past the lower cabinets and scraped the side of a door with one of the table legs.
As she traced the nick with her thumb, the sound of Emily's voice behind her caused Alison to jump up suddenly, "Fuck." Her instincts had changed, and Alison extended her palms out to protect herself without a second thought.
"Woah there, Al. It's just me. I was coming to see if you wanted to see how everything came together upstairs." Alison noted Emily's sincere smile and nodded as Emily led her up the back stairwell to the guest bedroom. Alison intently noted the feeling of Emily's fingers perfectly forming into the indentations of her hand. She had missed the warmth that exuded from her palms and the way her index finger instinctually reached out to trace the inside of her palms.
She had missed intimacy. She had missed the delicateness of human touch; the finesse and lingering that existed between fingertips. She had missed Emily. She had missed her wife.
Darkness poured into the hallway save a small ray of light streaming from a plug in the wall in the corner. It was then that Alison saw the photo of both of them together. That's what had been missing from the bookshelf downstairs — this exact photo. Alison was sure Emily brought it up here as a reminder.
It was Christmas, and she had already been convicted and sentenced. Released on bail with the knowledge of Alison having to turn herself in loomed over their holidays. The leaves were crisp beneath their feet. Alison could still hear Emily's laughter as Alison pretended to be blown away in the wind. She remembered thinking that she would put on this comedic act for all eternity to have her playful giggle resonate through her ears forevermore. Emily wore an emerald green knit dress while Alison complimented her wife with a red tight-fit sweater. Not knowing exactly what the future held, the longing behind their eyes was apparent. In the photo they had selected now framed, Emily rested her forehead against Alison's temple, eyes closed and face calm. On the other hand, Alison's icy blue stare connected with their hands, which were intertwined against their bodies. A sideways glance filled with apprehension and regret for past transgressions that could never be redeemed.
Even looking at the photo now in the archway of the bedroom door, Alison felt unworthy. She had dreamed and pleaded for this moment for over a year, but sometimes your wants should remain a fairytale. And part of Alison felt the panging in her stomach that provided an overwhelming sense that everything in that room should stay a dream. That she didn't deserve the reality that lay before her.
"Come here." Emily pulled Alison's hand reassuringly despite Alison hesitating to walk more than a few feet through the doorway.
Alison meagerly walked to the corner of the room where Emily already stood lovingly. Alison leaned back to follow the gaze in their portrait. Their family portrait. For as much as Alison's eyes were latched onto the loving touch between their fingertips, the blaze behind her pupils actually went through their hands and to her wife's barely protruding stomach, discreetly outlined by Emily's dress. As Alison leaned over her daughter's crib, she gasped at how big she had gotten since she last saw her wrapped tightly in Emily's arms. A daughter who had never felt her touch- who had only been seen through the glass which Alison was sure had distorted her entire memory of her daughter.
Her Olivia.
"Livvy?" Emily whispered, reaching out toward her daughter's bronzed sleeping face, causing her to twitch as she settled back into her slumber.
"She has so much hair, Em." Alison gasped attempting to trap her tears behind her eyes while reaching for her wife's waist. "She's stunning."
"She's pretty perfect. Isn't she, Al? She's missed you."
"She has?" Alison couldn't pull her eyes off of her 18-month old daughter. She had a world of time to make up.
Emily looked back at Alison smirking, internally noting Alison's hesitation to reach out for her first born. "Of course she has. You're her mom."
But Alison was hesitant because of all she had missed. She could feel the connection laced behind Olivia's annoyed smirk beneath her. That connection was entrenched in Emily's love, whereas Alison had only felt that love from afar. Her daughter had never felt the love seep through her fingers. She had never felt the touch of her lips against her skin. Olivia only knew Emily, had only smelled Emily. She probably sensed Emily walking in from simply the waft of her citrus and rose perfume. To her daughter, Alison's scent was that of a stranger, an outsider undeserving of her recognition. Alison wanted to earn the right to her smile. She dreamed of being deserving of her giggle. She aspired to be someone that Olivia would open her eyes for, and joy would seep from every inch of her face. Alison would work for her daughter's approval every moment of the rest of her life. She was determined to make everything okay. In her marriage. With her family. For her daughter.
It would all be for them.
Alison drew back into the moment as Emily leaned closer into the crib. She rested her left hand on the edge while extending her right hand to pull down the top of Olivia's pajamas, which had risen throughout the night.
It was then that Alison noticed the most significant difference she had seen so far. The movement of the photo had been noted but was excusable. The noticeable pine smell that Emily had once openly hated as she walked in was recognizable but could be dismissed due to the upcoming holiday season.
But on Emily's hand, casually resting on her daughter's crib, was a ring. Alison could never forget the ring she had given Emily on one knee years earlier. The way she had intentionally added small details from the moments they spent together in their nearly decade long relationship. No, this diamond was different; the band Emily now wore was golden, and the cut was wrong.
Alison's gut dropped as she reached out her right hand to grab onto Emily's wrist before speaking.
"Emily, what the fuck is that?"
A/N: Welp, that was the first chapter of what's bound to be an incredible adventure. Why was Alison in jail? Why did Emily quit visiting? How will Alison even begin growing a relationship with her daughter? And truly, what the fuck is up with that ring on Emily's finger? Please let me know what you think! This is a new writing format for me and I know that quite a few plot points were mentioned pretty up front, so take time to digest if needed.
As always, I love feedback and hearing from you all. Read. Review. Favorite. Pass Along.
Thanks again for joining and I hope you stick around! If you enjoyed this story and haven't checked out other things I've written on this site, I have 2 Emison fanfics, More Like Her and Turn Your Face both of which are completed. So please go check those out if you are new to the family!
See you all next time around!
-secretpen28