As she lay on the floor of her bedroom staring up at the ceiling, Ashley made a solid decision that she hated the colour white. It was boring to look at and gave her headache: the kind between her eyes that refused to leave even when she took a pill. She turned over and laid her head down in the crook of her elbow, wondering how to spend her night. It was getting late but she knew she'd never be able to sleep.

All that was on TV was lifetime movies and she was in no mood for anything stereotypical and sappy, no doubt made worse by bad acting.

She ignored another reply from an acquaintance; Megan. She'd text to ask Ashley if she wanted to hang out earlier, considering her parents had gone on vacation, and wondered if she would be free tomorrow night. Ashley said no.

She heard a knock at her door and turned over. "Yeah?"

Raife popped his head around the door and smiled. "You still up, hun?"

"Duh?"

He ignored her rude response and entered the room properly. "Feel like a bloody horror and some ice cream?"

Ashley rested her head on her arms behind her head. "No."

It had been one of their rituals since she was ten. Raife had never had an issue exposing his daughter to films she was too young to watch. He made sure she understood how they were made to look real and were all fictional, made purely for entertainment purposes, and the cussing wasn't to be repeated when her mother was around.

It had been one of his favourite ways to relax and bond with his daughter, sitting with his arm around her when she was engrossed in whatever was on the screen, or when she'd look up at him to ask a question or simply just smile because she loved him; because she enjoyed his company.

They hadn't watched anything together in months.

"Okay... is there any reason in particular why you're being an angel child?" he asked; his voice laced with sarcasm.

She shrugged as best she could. "Same reason you're going to win an award for the 'best dad ever'."

Raife frowned in confusion. "What's up with you? Another fight with Spencer?"

"You are what is up with me. Can you get out of my room?"

"We're talking," he pointed out.

"No, you're talking. I'm imagining you aren't here."

"Correction: you're being rude and I'm doing my best to ignore it."

"I really wish you wouldn't."

On her way up to bed, Christine heard part of the conversation and made her way inside her daughter's bedroom. "Ashley, that's enough," she said softly.

The brunette sighed and got up off the floor, making no attempt to look at her father. "I'm going out," she said to her mother. She couldn't breathe in there.

"It's late."

Ashley kissed her cheek on her way out of the room. "I'll be fine. I've got my keys, don't wait up."

Raife followed her and stood at the top of the stairs, watching her walk away. "Ashley, get back here."

She smiled almost vacantly as she reached the bottom of the stairs and picked up her jacket. "Yeah, okay."

"I mean it!"

"Me too," she replied falsely, leaving through the front door. She heard her name being yelled and rolled her eyes as she pulled the hood up on her jacket and made her way down the street, getting further away from the root of all her problems.

###

Swinging back and forth at a leisurely pace, Ashley looked away from the tube slide across the park and closed her eyes, tipping her head back; feeling the unbalance she was experiencing was more than apt for her current state of mind. The ice-cold metal chain was biting into her skin.

She sighed quietly when her phone began to ring and reluctantly put her foot on the floor to halt any movement. It was her father, no doubt intending to give her a piece of his mind. She didn't answer, just in case she gave him a piece of hers.

Even outside, she still couldn't breathe. Her head was so full she didn't know what she was thinking.

On his way home, Glen glanced across the park and did a double-take when he saw Ashley sitting by herself. He pulled out his earplugs and made his way over to her.

"Are you lost?"

She'd seen him walking over and put on her people face. A smirk appeared on her face. "Depends on your definition."

"Want me to walk you home?" he asked, putting his arm out. "We can even link arms."

Ashley smiled. "Tempting."

"You're gonna turn me down, even after the arm-link offer?" Glen asked rhetorically. He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "So, any reason you're out here on your own this late at night?"

"I'm not alone," she replied. "Can't you see the girl next to me?"

"Your imaginary friend on the next swing? No, I can't see her."

"She prefers the term 'ghost' and she hates your hair."

The perfectionist in him made him put a self-conscious hand to his head. "Yeah? Well, I'll do something about that, then. Right after you get therapy."

Ashley rolled her eyes at his predicted reaction. "Like I'd sit with Sam Wheat and not go running in the opposite direction."

"You said it was a girl."

She shrugged. "Whatever."

"Okay, better offer: how about you walk me home?" Glen asked.

"Don't be such a girl. Run if you're that afraid of the dark corners," she said in jest.

He sighed. "You sure you're good?"

"I'm great," she lied with a perfect smile. "Goodnight, Glen."

After he'd left, Ashley closed her eyes and saw the only person she wanted to see.

###

Arriving home, Glen shrugged off his jacket and made an attempt at a smile when he saw his sister walking downstairs dressed for bed. "You're still up?"

Spencer raised her brows. "Are you only just getting in?" It was after eleven-thirty on a school night, after all.

"Yeah, I was with the guys," he replied to her retreating figure as he began to follow her into the kitchen, meaning his basketball teammates. "Why are you up?"

She shrugged carelessly. "Just wanted some water."

In actual fact, Emily had unexpectedly turned up on her doorstep four hours prior and went over her concocted little scheme to keep herself with Spencer at all times during school hours. She'd protested, of course, but it fell on deaf ears.

When Emily left a copy of her class timetable, she'd suggested they talk about their plans for a party over the weekend. Spencer stopped her when the topic of boys came up; said she had a migraine. She was only partly lying.

With most of her night wasted, she didn't want to succumb to sleep, feeling restless. The Goonies was paused halfway. She'd never get too old to watch that.

Glen watched her fill her glass with the clear liquid and take a sip before he casually said, "Saw Ashley on the way home. She was at the park."

Trying not to look like a fish out of water, Spencer swallowed her drink carefully. "Who was she with?"

"Some ghost chick. I think she was trying to be funny."

"What?"

"She wasn't with anyone."

Putting her glass in the sink, Spencer passed Glen and made her way to the hallway.

"Where are you going?" he asked her.

"To get changed."

"Why?"

"I'm going to the park."

Glen rolled his eyes at his sister. If she thought he'd let her out at that time of the night, she could think again. Creeps were out and she had a lousy right-hook no matter how many times he tried to teach her otherwise. "Yeah, right." He grabbed her arm to make her stop. "She wanted to be alone, Spence."

"It's an act," she replied confidently, freeing herself from his grasp.

Paula Carlin frowned when she saw her two children still up and apparently arguing. "What's going on?" she asked as she made her way downstairs.

"Nothing," Spencer answered swiftly, daring her brother to open his big mouth.

"Spencer wants to take a trip down memory lane and go to the park. I said no."

She glared at him.

Paula nodded in agreement with her son. "The only place you're going is bed."

Turning her stare icy, the blond stomped her way upstairs, knowing it was immature after the second step, but stopping would have looked sillier; kind of like the way one looked when they attempt to storm out of a room and bang their arm hard against the doorframe, or slam the door shut on their own heel. Not that either of those had happened to her before.

As she got into bed, her thoughts drifted to Ashley and after quick deliberation, switched off her TV and listened for conversation downstairs.

Several minutes later Glen poked his head inside her room to check she was in bed. She was, and the lights were off.

"You're an ass," she informed him.

He smirked. "Love you, too," left his lips before he quietly closed the door.

Spencer let a couple of slow minutes drag past before she threw the covers off her fully dressed body, kicking them off when they got caught around her ankles. She pushed her balcony door open quickly, knowing if she didn't, a loud squeak of the hinges would protest. It was closed to in the same manner.

Climbing up on the railing, Spencer held on to the side of the house and breathed deeply. "Please don't break, please don't break," she repeated to her skeleton before she dropped almost twenty feet below.

Falling on unsteady feet caused her to fall to her knees and then on her side, relatively unhurt. She thanked God for her miracle and got to her feet before taking off in the direction of the park.

More than ten minutes later, breathing heavily, Spencer slowed down as she neared the park. It wasn't like she'd never been out at that time of night before, but someone had always been there with her. It wasn't exactly comforting being alone on the streets on a cold November night.

She almost wished Emily was with her.

Almost.

Getting a lungful of air, Spencer was confident she wasn't going to keel over and walked briskly until she was inside the park looking for Ashley. Not that she knew what to say when she saw her. Not that it mattered.

The park was empty.

Her shoulders slumped, deflated. Where would she be at midnight without her?

She perked up. Midnight. Ashley always craved ice cream at strange times, especially during fall and winter.

###

Ashley leaned back in her booth, the taste of Rocky Road ice cream thick in her mouth. Frankly, it was too cold to be outside for hours on end with nothing to do, so naturally ice cream was her solution. Killing two birds with one stone, and all that.

She was mentally counting the change she had in her pocket —dying for a cup of coffee— when she saw a familiar blonde sitting alone at another booth, desperately trying to cover her face with a laminated menu. She looked on in disbelief and shook her head.

The menu hadn't changed in ten years, Spencer thought idly as a shadow was cast over her.

"What are you doing here?" Ashley asked bluntly.

Spencer lowered the menu, trying to appear normal. "What are you doing here?" she echoed.

Ashley raised her eyebrows. "Seriously, why are you here?" she asked, even more serious.

"For the pie."

"You hate pie," Ashley pointed out.

She didn't look put-off. "Why are you here?"

"For the pie," the brunette answered mockingly as she slid in the booth opposite her.

Spencer looked out the window and then turned back to Ashley who was looking at her intently. "Are you suddenly adverse to sleep, or something? You're always...out."

"So?"

"Why are you here alone?"

"I'm not alone." She looked around the diner to make a point. "There are like fifteen people in this place."

"And how many of them care about you?" Spencer countered.

Ashley shrugged, unmoved. "It's not like I give a damn about them, either."

"You shouldn't be here alone at this time of the night. Go home."

"No."

"You can't keep walking around this town like you don't give a crap about anything. You need to go home and you need to get some sleep. You don't look good."

The brunette leaned back casually. "Thanks for the concern mom, but, really, I'm good here."

Spencer sighed at how much she was about to sound like her mother. "Go home or I'm calling Christine."

Ashley smiled. "Does Paula know you're here? Maybe I should call her and tell her she should stock up on some of the pie you love so much."

Spencer saw the look in her eyes and ignored her. "I'll walk home with you," she offered as nicely as she could. Things were still far from okay but she couldn't leave her there.

Ashley glanced to the right and saw a truck driver of the creepy variety staring at Spencer. She glared until he averted his attention to a waitress. "It's late, Spencer. Go home. If your mom finds out you sneaked out, she'll kill you, and then she'll kill me. And if she doesn't succeed, you know my mom will."

"I'll go home if you go home."

She frowned at Spencer. "Why?"

"Look, just…meet me halfway."

"Right by the borderline?"

Spencer cocked her head to the side, hardening her stare. "Mature."

Ashley shook her head, genuinely confused. "Why even bother?"

"To act mature? I don't know, maybe because it's expected in civilised societies?"

She repeated the action. "No, why would you meet me halfway? After Halloween and the way I've…" A sigh escaped. "Why?"

Spencer looked at her for a moment, wondering if she could be any more obvious. She opened her mouth to respond when Ashley spoke again;

"You're still in that good mood?"

"Yeah," she murmured, noting that Ashley had already averted her stare. "I guess I am."

"Okay," the brunette sighed out after a minute, like it was a difficult task.

"Okay, what?"

She stood up, her hands staying far away from the bacteria-infested surface of the table. "Okay, I'm going home."

Spencer followed and hurried through the door Ashley had held open for her —not even realising she'd done it, and was about to mumble something that could pass for gratitude when she felt the temperature outside. It was freezing. She hadn't felt it as she was running, but she'd since cooled down and had forgotten a coat.

"It was Glen, right?"

Spencer frowned softly and turned to look at her, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"The rat-out," Ashley clarified. "It was him? I don't want to kick the wrong ass in the morning..."

She tried hard not to smile. "You, kicking ass? What about scarring those hands of yours?" the blonde countered.

"Why would one use their hands to kick an ass?"

The way Ashley was looking at her, trying hard not to smile using her mouth, made her face appear lighter. "Oh, you were being literal? Who would've known you to get right down to business?"

Though slightly unnerved, her features showed no sign of it. "I was being literal," she confirmed, "which explains why you'd look for me at the park, but not at a diner."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to shiver too much. It was a miracle her teeth weren't chattering. "I was...really in the mood for some pie."

"You said that before. You hate pie."

Ashley had also said that not long ago.

"So, you've run out of things to say and now you're recycling past words? I think I should be terrified," the blonde said, only partially in jest as she thought of some of the words Ashley had said to her before. The kind that had practically made her melt into her and the kind that rendered her speechless with the effortless way in which they broke her.

"I bet ten bucks Paula is going to be waiting on the porch for you," Ashley said, changing the topic.

"Ten? Someone doesn't have much faith."

"Fifteen on the fact she's called Sheriff Pete, too," she said, his name making her want to go anywhere but home.

Still walking, Spencer turned the top half of her body towards her; arms still crossed her chest to block out some of the cold. "You think I'm stupid enough not to cover my tracks? Everyone is in bed, blissfully unaware while they drool into their pillows."

"You seem...fairly certain."

"I am," she confirmed. "Why are you out alone at this time of the night?"

Ashley looked away from her, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "Alone? That's kind of self-depreciating, isn't it?"

"You know what I mean."

She shrugged carelessly. "I wanted some air."

"You couldn't open a window?"

"No."

Spencer frowned at her cavalier behaviour, almost looking concerned. "Do you know how many freaks would attack a girl like you? She's not supposed to, but my mom tells me stories of these girls who come into the ER, or even the OR, and it's disgusting what people will do t-"

"A girl like me?" Ashley questioned. "You say that like I haven't studied martial arts."

The blonde willed herself not to smile. Ashley had watched the Three Ninja's movies over and over again every day for a month when they were nine and liked to think she could take on Stallone, Schwarzenegger and Van Damme all at the same time —and win. "I forgot," she replied softly.

Ashley gave her a look to say she knew she hadn't. "So, the fam' is all tucked up in bed? How did you get past the creaky stairs without anyone noticing, you go down the banister?"

"Yeah, right," she answered, looking away at their surroundings as they got closer to home with each step.

"Don't tell me; you flew?"

"I'm so transparent!" Spencer replied with a falsely exasperated smile.

Dangerously close to one of those herself, Ashley bit her lip. "No, seriously, how'd you get away?"

"It's not prison."

"But the place is on lockdown after a certain time. I love her, but your mom's like a prison warden."

Spencer sighed. "I jumped off my balcony."

Ashley laughed for a second, unable to help herself. It fell away when a thought occurred to her. "Wait, you don't really think you can fly, do you? I think there's a name for that condition."

"Shut up."

She bit her lip again, not knowing if Spencer's confession was serious. "You jumped off your balcony?"

"Don't make it sound like some sort of suicide attempt. I was really...in the mood for pie," she finished evasively.

"You could've broken your neck, you know."

Spencer uncrossed her arms, letting one hang down by her side while the other cupped her neck unconsciously. "Yeah, well, one can dream. I really don't want to go to school tomorrow."

"So, don't," the brunette replied simply, knowing she would.

"Yeah..." she trailed off, unable to stop her teeth from chattering.

Ashley rolled her eyes and unzipped her jacket, pulling her warm arms out of it before she practically threw it to Spencer. "I'm hot," she stated, goosebumps forming everywhere.

"No, you're not."

When she held it back out to her, Ashley shook her head. "I'm hot," she repeated. "Seriously, I just had ice cream to cool down, remember?"

Too cold to argue any further, Spencer accepted it gratefully and slid her arms inside, feeling its warmth sink into her skin.

Paula wasn't waiting for them.