Entropy /ˈentrəpē/: lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder

"Just as the constant increase of entropy is the basic law of the universe, so it is the basic law of life to struggle against entropy." –Vaclav Havel

He'd grown older much quicker than she had. His skin looked tired and worn, lacking the elasticity and youth it had boasted only 5 years ago. He'd acquired wrinkles that couldn't be brushed off as laugh lines and permanent tinted bags underneath his fading-to-gray eyes. He looked rough, grisly. It was hard to see him as a 30-year-old man when he'd suffered so much abuse at the hands of time.

Aria told herself that these new features were just a trick of the light, or rather the lack thereof. In the still of the night, she lied awake and stared at the man sleeping soundly, though doing so with an intense scowl on his face as if he were having a bad dream. These days, he always looked like he was having a bad dream. A nightmare that he couldn't wake himself up from. As she stared, she pretended that the crevices of his skin were just shadows and come morning light, they'd disappear. But they didn't. If anything the rays of sun that snuck into the apartment before Aria had a chance to close her eyes made him appear more sick and weathered than he had in the dark. There was no more denying- Ezra Fitz had been through hell and he needed help.

If Charlotte's release had gone as planned, Aria would've headed back to Boston without so much as a glance back at Ezra. She'd known that he was in a dark place, losing someone the way he lost Nicole would devastate anyone, but she hadn't been aware of how he was destroying himself as he tried to cope.

He'd chosen alcohol to aid him in silencing the guilt and anger he felt. Poison after poison, he tipped the glass back, swallowing the harsh liquid and waiting for it to take its desired effect. He'd drink until he couldn't function enough to pour himself another glass, his mind swimming in a hazy, incoherent state. He'd pass out and start over again when he woke up. Aria would never get the image of Ezra's wicked smile out of her head when he'd admitted that he didn't feel a hangover for weeks at a time. "If you don't allow yourself to come down from your high," Ezra said. "You never feel the impact of your fall."

This worked until it didn't. Soon booze wasn't enough. Getting drunk only made him angrier and, at times, violent. He'd gotten himself into bar fights and spent more than a couple of nights in the Rosewood County jail on charges of public intoxication. But despite this, he kept drinking.

By the time Aria intervened, Ezra was just sips away from putting the bottle to his head and pulling the trigger. His addiction was becoming intermingled with his depression. If it hadn't been for Charlotte's murder and the rise of this new A- or whatever the hell this psychopath was calling themselves- forcing Aria to stay in Rosewood, Ezra Fitz may have gone from being a living, breathing person with chaotic thoughts and feelings to a name scrawled across a headstone and a ghost of a memory in a matter of months.

Aria turned onto her back and let her head loll to the side to face the majority of his apartment. It was messy. Clothes strewn across the floor, empty pizza boxes and beer bottles on the kitchen counter, pages of his book scattered on the coffee table- although that particular mess was partially her fault.

She'd been helping him finish his novel when she wasn't off hunting down some faceless creep. The two would work for hours on end writing and editing and rewriting and editing and rewriting, making sure to keep enough distance between them to keep from exchanging accidental touches that neither would admit still lighted a spark within them. When they'd finished working that night it was almost 3 am. Ezra refused to let Aria drive home so late, especially when she was so tied. He offered to take the couch, but Aria denied. She told him that they'd shared a bed before, doing again wouldn't be a big deal. In theory, she had been right. It wasn't like they were going to cuddle. Hell, the moment they climbed into bed Ezra constructed a pillow wall between them to "make her comfortable." Everything should've been fine. But it wasn't. Aria found herself aching to wrap her arms around him like she had done so many times as a teen, then kicking herself because she had a boyfriend, one she'd just said "I love you" to for the first time a few weeks ago. Although, lately Aria had been wondering if she had really meant it when she said it, and though she didn't want to say it, she knew exactly what was making her second guess herself.

The further they got into the plot the more undeniable it was becoming that Ezra was writing about her…about them. A love not recognized for what it was, misconstrued into something vile and repulsive by others. A love with epic moments that seemed to only happen in movies, but had in fact been very realistic for them: a kiss in the rain after a physical and emotional drought, the way they made love for the first time after finding out that they may never see each other again, the discovery that the male protagonist wasn't who he made himself up to be and the tragic, exaggerated break up that ensued. In the early stages of the book, Aria had had the urge to ask him if what they used to have was his muse, but now she felt the question would be a waste of breath. Of course it was. Ezra had promised her years ago that they would never really be over and now he was making good on that promise by immortalizing it in a book.

Aria saw glimpses of the old Ezra whenever he would talk to her about the direction that he wanted the book to go in next or the next scene that he wanted to write. For a brief moment in time Aria would see a light in appear in his sullen eyes or a smile ghost his lips. It gave her hope that the old Ezra, the one she fell in love with as a teenager, was still in there. Aria knew when she returned to Rosewood that if she ran into Ezra Fitz she might now be running into the same person she knew from 5 years ago. She was well aware that people change over an extended period of time. She did. However, Ezra changed for the worse, but Aria was convinced that he could change again. Maybe behind the sea of alcohol and depression and anger there was still the man who was kind, compassionate, and unbroken. And by the way Ezra talked about the book- the book based on them- Aria knew that she had to be the one to find the man he once was again. She was the only one that he'd let in.

Aria knew that the reason for his drinking was his depression. And she understood that depression wasn't just something he would get over. It was likely to be something that he struggled with for the rest of his life. She knew that she couldn't just tell him to smile and that that'd fix everything. However, Aria also knew that it was possible for him to get better, though he had shown that he couldn't do it on his own. She needed to help him. She wanted to help him.

Slowly, Aria got out of bed and tiptoed over to the living room. She pulled a piece of paper from his typewriter and sat down at his desk. Taking a deep breath, she began to write down every thought she'd had over the last few week, but hadn't had the courage to say.

Ezra,

I want you to read this and please don't hate me when you do. I want you to read it on your best day and on your worst day. I want you to understand that someone cares about you. And I want you to understand that this will get easier with time. Don't give up before you see that.

Put down the alcohol. For God's sake put it down. And if not for his sake, then for mine. For yours. You're killing yourself. I know that you think it numbs the pain, that it's helping you forget about Nicole, but you need to wake up and realize that it's not. You're only putting yourself in more pain by trying to suppress what needs to come out. Bottling up your feelings by stuffing them into a bottle and swallowing the contents isn't therapeutic. It's self destructive. You're a ticking time bomb and I know that it's because you think that you can't handle the pain of losing the woman you loved. But Ezra, I promise you, you can. I know that there seems like there's no light at the end of the tunnel and that nothing in the world is right, nothing makes sense, and maybe on some twisted level you're right. The world is a dark place and sometimes it offers no light. Sometimes it fucks over the wrong people and celebrates the ones who don't deserve happiness. But that doesn't mean that you can't turn on a light. It doesn't mean that good things don't happen to good people. You used to be the light of my life, so I know damn well that you're capable of providing a light for yourself in the midst of your darkness. And you are a good person that deserves something good in their life, but you won't get it if you don't allow it in.

You're strong, Ezra. Stronger than you think you are. And I know that's cliché, but it's true. Do you remember when you told me about your parent's divorce? You said the fighting between them got so loud that you and Wes would hide in the closet, cover your ears, and sing the Pokémon theme song because it was something that made both of you happy. You told me that you used to cry when your mom would kick your dad out of the house for a few nights because you thought you'd never see him again. You said that you were 12 when you had to explain to your little brother why mommy and daddy didn't love each other anymore and how it killed you when you had to watch him cry because he didn't understand how two people could fall out of love. You said your grades tanked, you got into fights, got detention, and even came close to getting expelled. You told me that you lost yourself. But guess what, you found yourself again. It took years for the wounds your parents inflicted on you to turn to scars, but they did. You said that you once vowed to never fall in love because it would lead to heartbreak, but you did. Your parents forced you to grow up while they acted like children. Some kids don't recover from that. They let their parent's mistakes effect them for the rest of their lives, but you…you didn't. You made it through a storm that most kids would've drowned in. You are strong.

Do you remember when you found out the truth about Malcolm? You were devastated. I remember watching you cry and drying your tears. You loved that little boy. I wished that I could make what Maggie did to you go away, but I couldn't. All I could do was hear you out. Hearing you self deprecate absolutely killed me. That was the first time I ever saw where your head goes when your truly distraught. You didn't want to talk about it, but I made you. Night after night I came over and we talked. Sometimes it was about Malcolm, other times it was about the weather. You found comfort in the distractions I provided, but I didn't provide them all of the time. Being forced to step into the role of daddy, falling in love with the child, and then having them ripped away from you is any parent's nightmare. And I'm sorry you had to go through it. But you did it and you came out alive. You made it through having a child sized hole blasted into your heart. Your emotions went through the ringer and you were still standing at the end.

You are noble. You took a bullet for me. I destroyed your apartment and you took a bullet for me. You could've died. A few inches up and the bullet would've went through your lungs. A few more and it could've gone through your heart. You loved me enough to risk your life to save mine. And I know that you did the same for Nicole. I'm not illiterate. I can read the articles on the internet. I know that you were there during the attack. I know that the reason that you got sick and had to come home was because you got an infection in one of your several severe wounds those men inflicted on you. And I know that you feel guilty for not being able to help Nicole, but you tried. Unfortunately, you can't save everyone all of the time. I can't pretend to understand the pain you're going through, but I can tell you that it won't last forever. Nothing does. You and I know that all too well. I'm not a medium, but I think that if Nicole were here, she'd tell you that it's okay. You tried to save her, Ezra. Sometimes trying is all you can do and I understand that that'll never be enough for you, but it's all you've got. You've got to learn to forgive yourself for what happened. It will get better. You've just got to get out of your own head and let go.

My reason for writing this wasn't to remind you of all of the bad. It was to remind you that life sucks sometimes, but you haven't lost a battle yet. You've handled everything life's thrown your way. Don't let this be the thing that knocks you down and takes you out. You've got too much to live for. You mean too much to people…to me. The world can't lose you yet.

I can't lose you yet.

Please don't let this take you away.

I love you,

Aria

Aria left the note on his pillow, before leaving the apartment. The next day, Ezra left town, leaving a note of his own behind for her taped to his front door. With shaking hands, Aria pulled it off and unfolded the paper, revealing his familiar, messy hand writing.

Aria,

274830 Kennsington Rd.

Albany, New York

541-009-8760

I love you too,

Ezra

274830 Kennsington Rd.

Albany, New York

The address to a rehabilitation center.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this short little one shot! This idea was planted in my head after the Criminal Minds episode "Entropy" aired. The story line of that episode and this one shot are completely different, but when one of the characters recited the quote I used in the beginning I knew that I had to write about it. Please let me know what you thought by reviewing! Thanks for reading!

Also, if you liked this, I encourage you to check out my multi-chapter Rumor Has It if you haven't already. For those of you currently reading, I promise I will update tomorrow! I know it's been over a week!

-Erin xoxo