Thanks to everybody who read, reviewed, favorited and followed this little story. Reading your reviews honestly made my day.
Thanks to my beta BrittzandTana, who was kind enough to read this in a rush because I'm moving tomorrow! All remaining mistakes are, of course, my own. Feel free to point out any/all in your reviews.
To her everlasting credit, Ali manages a whole week of studying, moping around and avoiding pretty much everybody before she cracks.
She is reading over Spencer's sister damn paper on the Russian Revolution, when she finds herself suddenly wondering how CeCe is doing. She shudders and realizes she really should get out of her house before she does something truly insane, like trying to find out.
It's not as if she can't deal with long periods of inactivity. Getting used to some boredom is a must when pretending one is dead, and she wasn't so naive as to actually expect that her life would be the same as before everything happened, but she had been naive enough to believe it wouldn't suck quite this much.
Surprisingly, Spencer is the only one of her friends Ali kind of talks to and, god bless her, the one to put Alison out of her misery.
It starts with a series of group texts that indicate, in no uncertain terms, that Spencer believes the three of them -apparently Aria is spared the indignity- to be simpletons that are stubbornly refusing to make good use of A's hiatus. Hence, they probably should (definitely must) meet soon to come up with a plan, in order to be a few steps ahead of A, for once, instead of always trailing two behind.
Ali's not sure if she finds the suggestion that she is an idiot more insulting or amusing, but she's surprised to realize that the whole thing is mostly kind of endearing. Spencer has gotten, like, really bossy in her absence.
What follows is something that could only ever make sense inside of Spencer's head.
First, they all agree via text, to meet at Spencer's on Friday afternoon.
After that, each of them receives a secret message through different means, indicating they should disregard that agreement. Since A is possibly monitoring their communications, it was only ever meant as a decoy and they should wait for further instructions.
As a result of clear paranoid tendencies, Spencer effectively forbids them to text anything at all about the meeting, forcing them to communicate through a system of secret messages hidden inside books and coffee cups that Alison finds both ridiculously convoluted and decidedly brilliant.
Overall, it's practically a miracle that it takes them only a week to settle on the real meeting place.
Alison grabs her coffee and carefully checks the inside of the paper sleeve. There, instead of her name, she reads the group's meeting place: Ambrose Pavilion, Friday, 4 PM.
She looks across the Hasting's kitchen at where Spencer is sitting, surrounded by books, and lifts her eyebrows.
"Really?" she mouths. Honestly, of all the places in the world...
Spencer response is to smile smugly at Alison and her eyes roll practically to the back of her head. Next time she fakes her death, her stupid diary is definitely coming with.
Even if the meeting place is probably Spencer's lame idea of a joke, Alison doesn't complain. As it turns out, she doesn't actually give a flying crap where they meet. She just wants them to do it. She hates all this waiting around for A to strike. She'd feel safer having a plan.
Alison takes her seat in front of Spencer, picks up her notebook and meets Spencer's expectant eyes.
"All set?" Spencer asks.
Ali nods. "All set."
Ali let's herself relax. Now that she has Spencer mostly on her side, she thinks they might even actually come up with a decent plan.
There's no way in hell she's telling Spencer that, obviously. Even if she truly appreciates Commander Hastings help, she doesn't need Nancy Drew getting anymore full of herself.
Once Friday arrives, Ali follows Spencer's carefully planned route and arrives at the Norristown Zoo at five to four. That's the lame kind of person she is now. The kind that arrives five minutes early to everything and actually looks forward to meeting in a reptilian pavilion to discuss stalker assholes on a Friday afternoon.
Who would've thought?
Thankfully, she's not the absolute lamest, since Spencer is there already; waiting primly by the Ambrose pavilion entrance, with Toby is standing next to her.
"Hi," Alison says.
"Hi, Ali," Spencer answers while Toby stands awkwardly, glaring at Ali.
Alison then directs her attention to him, and tries again.
"Hi Toby," she says, hoping her voice doesn't betray her annoyance. She's trying here, and she's getting tired of everyone looking at her as if she's the antichrist.
Toby response is to deepen his scowl.
She presumes that he probably thinks it looks menacing, or something, but she barely stifles the urge to snort. She has never found Toby even remotely threatening, not even when he had the misguided notion that he could protect Spencer by allying himself with Mona. She finds him even less menacing now, when he's wearing a polo and holding Spencer's hand.
After a few tense seconds and a rather unsubtle elbow to his ribs, courtesy of Spencer, Toby relents.
"Alison," he says, giving her a curt nod.
Alison takes a deep breath and counts to ten. Sure, Toby is being kind of a dick but, as is the case with every single person in damned Rosewood, Toby actually has a valid reason to be angry with her.
She decides she might as well just get it over with and says, "I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you," as sincerely as she can manage.
Toby seems taken aback by her directness but, really, if Ali plans to make a big deal out of each and every apology, she has to make apologizing her full time job.
He narrows his eyes, seemingly mulling over her apology. After a few seconds, his brow relaxes and his shoulders lose the tension.
"Ok," he says with a small shrugs.
Now it's Ali's turn to look perplexed. "That's it?"
He shrugs, giving her a lopsided half-smile, "Guess so."
While Ali is trying to process the fact that someone like Toby Cavanaugh actually exists, his focus shifts back to Spencer.
"Will you be alright?" he asks.
Spencer nods. "Yeah, go. I think we'll be safe here."
Spencer leans up, and gives him a chaste kiss. When they break apart, he nods curtly at Alison and leaves.
"You're cute together," Ali says, partly because it's true, and partly because, for reasons she can't fathom, Spencer looks like she needs to hear it.
Spencer lips quirk up. "I know."
Hanna, Emily and Aria start arriving a few minutes later, each in a different car and following a different path. Alison finds the whole thing a bit overkill, but Spencer looks so delighted with her organizational and leading skills Ali can't bring herself to burst her bubble.
Surprisingly, Aria is the next one to arrive. It's the first time Ali's seen her in weeks, and she looks wretched. Big baggy hoodie, bags under her eyes, and an expression so defeated it makes Alison want to dismember A, limb by limb.
Judging by the way that Spencer's jaw tightens, she's not the only one that feels this way.
Aria gives them a tired smile. "Hi guys."
Alison feels like she should probably say something, but she's horrible at comforting people. Truth be told, now that she thinks about it, she can't remember comforting anyone. Ever.
Wow. She really was kind of a sucky friend.
While Ali stays glued to the ground, trying to figure what the hell she's supposed to do, Spencer envelops Aria into a tight hug and Aria's whole body sags into Spencer.
When Spencer releases her, somewhat reluctantly, Aria turns to Alison. "Hey."
"Hi," Ali says, "How's he holding up?"
Aria shrugs, as if to say, how should I know? "Better, I think? It's not like anybody tells me anything."
"You know you didn't have to come," Spencer says.
"No, I know," Aria replies, playing with the strings of her hoodie, "I guess I wanted - I needed to think about something else, you know?"
Ali bites the inside of her lip, but before she can say anything else, Hanna arrives.
She walks into the pavilion as if someone is holding a gun to the back of her head.
"Spencer, I'm so pissed at you and your stupid plans. I hate this place."
Spencer shakes her head. "Hi, sunshine."
Hanna sticks her tongue out at Spencer and Aria chuckles. Hanna turns her attention to her, placing her hand on Aria's tiny arm. "You ok?"
Aria nods. "I'm ok."
Ali stands there, awkwardly, feeling on the outside looking in. She really has some work to do on this whole friendship thing.
Emily is the last to arrive, looking beautiful in an effortless way that makes Ali's stomach tie up in knots. Ali watches her approach the entrance and as soon as their eyes meet, Emily averts her gaze.
Alison ignores the way her heart clenches painfully inside her chest, waits for Emily to greet everyone, and impatiently says, "So, are we ready to begin with this, or what?"
"Yes, lets," Hanna answers for everybody, "I'm already itching to get out of here."
"So," Spencer begins, "the idea is to get Ali up to speed with what we know, and maybe she can shed some light on what we still don't know. After that, maybe we can formulate some sort of plan before A bounces back."
Alison nods, takes out her trusty notebook from her bag and opens it somewhere at the beginning. "Should I go first?"
She sees everyone staring at her wide-eyed and frowns. "What?"
Hanna takes her notebook from her hands, slowly, as if it's a rat she's holding up from the tail. "What's this?"
So maybe her trusty notebook looks a bit like the work of someone completely deranged. It's gotten kind of...big, over time, and she might have gone a little overboard with the adding of new pages and sticky notes and every single scrap of information she had ever found but, really, it's not nearly as bad as Hanna is making it seem.
"It's a journal," Ali explains, "I started it about a month after I disappeared."
She surveys her audience, and is pleased to find all four of her friends are looking at her intently.
"I realized," she continues, "I might not get to go home for a while, if ever, as long as A was after me."
Ali extends her hand and Hanna gives Ali her journal back. She traces the spiral binding with her finger. "I figured that maybe, if I thought about it long and hard enough, remembered everything, I might figure out who the bastard was.
"So I remembered everything. Everyone that had or might've had something against me, every interaction I had with them, anything I could think of, and wrote everything down."
She absentmindedly flips through the pages as she continues, "I tried to find clues or patterns or something, but I never could make any sense of it. Maybe one of you'll have better luck."
Ali hands the journal to Spencer, whose hand is practically trembling in anticipation. "Most of what's in there you probably already know, but some things I tried to keep hidden, even from my diary."
Spencer suddenly stops before opening the notebook. "Are you sure you want us to read this?"
Ali shrugs. "All those secrets I kept didn't keep me safe at the end. Maybe - I don't know. Maybe the stupid secrets will help this way."
While Spencer reads her journal like a woman possessed and the others try, unsuccessfully, to force her to share, Ali alternates between watching Emily and the snakes with equal amounts of fascination.
She traces the contours of Emily's face with her eyes, trying to remember a time when Emily's beauty astounded her like it does now. She can't remember one quite like this.
She wonders if it's her, the one that's changed, or Emily. Whatever rational part of her brain still remains suggests it's probably a bit of both. Still, lately Ali feels as if she's another person completely, one whose feelings she doesn't understand and can't seem to control.
"And you had the gall," Spencer says, breaking Ali's reverie, "the absolute gall to call my plan anal!"
Alison tears her eyes away from Emily and blinks. "What?"
Spencer point to Ali's notebook accusingly. "You made a chart of everyone you interacted with that summer, and half of this journal is color coded. Color coded! This is at least as bad as my plan!"
Ali rolls her eyes, taking her journal from Spencer's hands. "This doesn't even rank in comparison. It took me two hours to get to this meeting, thanks to your stupid scenic route!"
Spencer lifts her eyebrows. "My very safe stupid scenic route, you mean."
"For all I know," Ali counters, "A has still managed to crack your lame coffee cup code and is listening in right now. Hi A!"
Spencer looks so affronted by the mere suggestion her plan might not be infallible it's almost funny.
"Ok," Emily interrupts. "We're not doing this again. Behave."
Alison mock glares at Spencer and she mock glares back.
"Fine," Ali says, "I thought the notes in the coffee cups were brilliant."
Spencer lifts her chin. "Thank you," she says, as if she can't believe it took so long for Ali to admit her absolute genius, "Can I please have your crazy person journal back, now?"
"Oh, shut up," Ali says, giving her the notebook, "You love it."
Emily leaves shortly after that, after receiving yet another phone call, Ali guesses from Paige. At least this time, she deigns to say goodbye before disappearing. After a while, Spencer and Aria follow, but not before Spencer has corralled Alison into a one on one study and strategy session for Sunday.
She should've never showed her that notebook.
"Call me later!" Hanna shouts to Emily's back.
Emily nods, and she's gone. Hanna then turns her attention to Alison.
"So, Spencer looked like she was about to make out with your notebook." Hannah says, walking towards Ali.
Alison looks at Hanna, wrinkles of surprise appearing on her forehead. Are they giving out forgiving pills at Rosewood hospital? Can Ali get some? Do these people not know how to hold a proper grudge?
Whatever. If Hanna is not pissed at her, Ali is not exactly in a hurry to remind her she should be.
"I knew she'd love it," Ali says, "I actually spent yesterday afternoon color coding the thing especially for her."
Hanna looks doubtful. "Really?"
Alison edges nearer to Hanna, "Don't tell her," she stage whispers, "but the color coding is completely nonsensical and it's just there to mess with her head."
Hanna laughs. "Really?"
Ali smiles, feeling somewhat smug.
"I thought you were trying to avoid dying at Spencer's hand, Ali."
"Oh, come on," Ali rolls her eyes. "It's a teeny tiny joke!"
Hanna tilts her head, looking at her incredulously. "Have you met Spencer?"
Ali shrugs. "She'll love the challenge, anyway."
They stay silent, for a while, just standing side by side.
"So, wanna ditch this place and grab a coffee?" Hanna asks.
Thanks to Spencer, Ali has had enough coffee to last her a lifetime but says "Yeah, that'd be great," all the same.
Ali watches Hanna as she carries two cups of steaming hot coffee to their table.
"You'd think," Hanna begins, settling Ali's cup in front of her, "that practically living here would grant us a discount. But no, even Emily charges full price, every time."
Ali grabs her cup, holding it close to her nose, inhaling the smell of coffee. "Those bastards."
Hanna makes a sound of agreement and takes her seat. She seems content to stay silent for a while, drinking her coffee and absentmindedly checking her phone. Meanwhile, Alison takes small sips from her cup and tries to find the best way to apologize for being a giant bitch without sounding like an insincere, broken record.
"So, about the other day, -" she begins, only to be interrupted by Hanna.
"Don't worry about it," Hanna says, "It's no big deal."
"But it is," Ali insists, "I was a bitch to you."
Hanna waves her hand dismissively. "C'mon Ali, we all have bad days."
"Yeah, but," Ali tries again. Why won't Hanna let her apologize? "Some of us even have fifteen years of bad days. I'm trying to... to not be that person anymore, but I keep falling back, and I was a bitch to you, again, and you didn't deserve it and maybe I can never be anything other than a bitch, and - "
Hanna puts a hand on her arm, stopping her diatribe.
"Ali, breathe," she says, "I know, ok? I know."
Alison takes another deep breath and looks at Hanna pleadingly. She's so tired of feeling sorry all the time.
"I know you are trying," Hanna continues, "I've lost - we've all lost - enough people already. We don't need to alienate each other for stupid shit. You'll get there."
Ali tilts her head and looks at Hanna, amazed. "Just when did you get so wise?"
"I've always been," Hanna says, "you were all just too unwise to notice."
"So," Hanna says after a while, drawing out the syllable dramatically, "now that's cleared up…Maybe it's time we talk about the Emily thing."
Ali would rather talk about any other topic in the world, including the Russian Revolution. "Ok."
She waits for Hanna to start the conversation, but Hanna seems perfectly happy to just lean back in the couch and look at her encouragingly.
Ali sighs. "I don't know what you expect me to tell you that you don't already know."
Hanna takes a sip from her coffee. "I know Emily was in love with you."
Ali nods. Emily had never said as much, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that one.
"And I know," Hanna continues, turning serious, "that you broke her heart into a million pieces."
"I know," Ali says, "I didn't mean to, but I couldn't exactly let her know I was alive, either."
Hanna looks at her quizzically. "I meant before that."
Oh, right. Ali fixes her eyes on her hands.
"You toyed with her heart long before you went missing," Hanna suddenly looks about as comfortable with the conversation as Ali feels. "Did you mean that?"
Did she mean that? She always kind of knew, or suspected at any rate, what Emily felt for her. She remembers loving the fact that Emily felt that way about her, loving how Emily looked at her, as if she was the single most amazing thing ever.
She knew, even when she tried to pretend she didn't, what every kiss they shared meant to Emily. She knew Emily loved her and she wanted Emily to love her. What she didn't want was to love Emily back. She wanted to find the real thing, whatever the hell that was.
"I really thought," she starts, "I actually did believe we were just wasting time until the real thing came along."
"Did you ever find that real thing?"
"No," Ali frowns, remembering dozens of college parties. "Maybe, I don't know. I found guys, some I liked. Some I might have even cared about…"
Hanna lifts her eyebrows expectantly. "But?"
"But it never felt like more, I guess," Ali says, "I kept waiting for it to feel like more, but it was just different. Just college boys instead of Emily."
Hanna leans back in the couch, seemingly considering Ali's words.
"And now?" she asks, after a few moments, "What's going on now?"
Ali snorts. "Wouldn't I like to know."
Hanna fixes her with a look. "Ali."
"I have no idea, Han, really. I'm confused and scared and it feels like I'm stuck at two years ago and that everybody else has been moving forward without me. Even her. Especially her."
"Have you tried talking to her about it?"
"And what am I supposed to say?" Ali asks, "Hey Em, remember when I broke your heart? Say, I might wanna do it again."
Hanna huffs in impatience. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"But that's what'll happen." Ali insists, "even if I knew what I felt, I wouldn't - Emily is better off without me."
Hanna doesn't respond, and Ali thinks that finally, this conversation is over, and fixes her eyes back on her probably freezing coffee.
"That's bullshit."
Ali looks up from her cup, startled.
"Look Ali," Hanna says, "I'm not saying you should declare your undying love for her or whatever, but she's your friend. Moreover, she's missed you and she's going through a rough patch right now. You could try being her friend."
Ali bites her lip. "It's actually kind of annoying how right you are all of the time lately."
"See, I told you? You'll get there."
Ali sticks her tongue out at Hanna. "Fine," she says, "let's stop with the depressing drama. Tell me about that hot piece of hunkiness that's always following you around."
"Travis?" Hanna beams. "We'll need another coffee for that conversation."
Contrary to popular belief, Alison can listen, on occasion, to somebody other than herself. She carefully considers Hanna's advice and realizes that she's right. She needs to get over herself and be a friend to Emily.
This is why Sunday morning finds Alison standing on Emily's front door for five straight minutes, trying to work up the courage to ring the doorbell.
Sadly, before Ali can turn around and bolt like every fiber of her being is asking her to, the door opens.
Pam eyes widen when she notices Alison, and then her face breaks out in a warm smile. "Alison! Did you ring the doorbell?"
Ali smiles back, feeling her nerves subside. "Mrs. Fields, Hi. I was just about to. Is Emily home?"
"She's upstairs," Emily's mom answers, moving to the side of the door, "Come on in."
Ali steps into Emily's house. "Should I?" she asks, nodding towards the stairs.
"Sure." Pam's hand is already back at the doorknob, "I was just heading out, and don't be a stranger!"
Ali nods, and as soon as Pam is out the door, she hears Emily's footsteps coming down.
Emily sees her Ali waiting at the base of the stairs and stops. "Ali? Everything alright?"
"Yeah, I just-" Ali stammers, "I was wondering if you, maybe, like if you have the time, if you're not busy or anything, you know, maybe we could do something. Or whatever."
Oh god. Who is this person that's taken control of her vocal chords and how can she shut her up?
"Or whatever," Emily repeats, slowly. "Actually, I was going for a run."
Alison lets herself take a good look at Emily and oh Jesus, Emily's shorts are fucking short.
"Oh, ok," Ali says, "Maybe some other -"
"You can come with, " Emily interrupts her, "I mean, if you want to."
"Sure!" Ali says, perhaps with a little more zeal than strictly necessary. "Let's run."
Ali has only ever run away from certain death, but whatever. How bad can it be?
It turns out that running is not as terrible as Ali thought it would be. It's much worse.
She's going to die.
God, she's definitely going to die in this stupid park, she's going to have a heart attack while trying to catch up to Emily, who apparently doesn't know the difference between a nice, quiet jog and running like the devil is chasing her.
What is worse it that Emily looks as if she's run maybe all of five seconds, while they been at it for -Ali checks her watch - five minutes?
Five minutes? They'll have to bond over some other shared activity, Ali decides. She can't do this shit for another hour.
Ali stops, bends over with her hands on her knees and grasps for air. "Em."
Emily, already far away, doesn't hear.
"Emily!"
Emily stops, looks at what Ali is sure constitutes a rather pitiful sight and jogs back towards Alison.
"Sorry," she says, "maybe we should take it easier?"
You think?
"Yea-" Ali takes a couple of shallow breaths. "Please."
After that, they take up and easy jog, with Emily literally running circles around Alison every couple of minutes.
Slowly, but surely, they start talking. They purposely stay away from any touchy subjects, but Emily tells her about wanting to swim again, and how she misses her dad and how sometimes she dreams of getting on a bus to anywhere and never look back. In turn, Ali tells her about learning to fly and missing them, and how she never, not once in almost two years, managed to make a decent coffee on that fucking machine from hell.
It's awkward, and it's strained, but it still feels like coming home.
After about half an hour, Emily suddenly slows down and looks at Ali with wide brown eyes.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry," she says, "about, you know, avoiding you lately."
That stops Alison dead in her tracks. She doesn't know if she wants to laugh, cry, or shake some sense into Emily's head. She's sorry? Emily is sorry? Jesus Christ if anyone should be sorry -
"No," Ali says, "I'm sorry."
Emily stops jogging, too, when she catches Alison's meaning. "Ali, you've already apologized."
"No, I haven't," Ali says, "not really. I want you to know, I need to know you know how sorry I am. About everything."
Emily look at her, really looks at her, and it feels as if she's staring right into Ali's heart. It's awful.
"I know." Emily says, "I forgive you."
Ali instantly feels about twenty pounds lighter. "Good. Because I want-"
She wants everything. She always wants everything. She wants Emily to forgive her, she wants Emily to be happy, and she wants Emily to love her. She wants -
"I want us to be friends, " Ali lies, "no games, no lies."
"I'd like that." Emily says, "I could use a friend."
Then, suddenly and Emily really ought to start warning people before she does this, Emily smiles.
A real smile, the kind goes from her lips all the way up to her eyes, lights up her whole face. The kind of smile that could make someone fall in love.
Ali is so catastrophically screwed it's not even funny.
A/N, the second.
I'm sorry, I just have a lot of feelings. A couple of things:
1. I'm sorry about the inordinate amount of words it took me to get Emily and Alison interacting. Geez. I promise it'll get better from now on.
2. In response to a guest who wondered: the story will probably be four/five chapters long.
3. You can probably expect an update in a week/week and a half. I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do for now.
4. These are a few of my favorite things: Shay Mitchell's face, puppies and prompts. So, take a look at the fandoms/pairings on my profile and feel free to prompt me in a PM or send me an ask on tumblr.