Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.

AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, it really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to the amazingly talented purpleplasticpurse for beta reading!

Warning: dark&twisty/ some parts might be trigger-ish


.

XL

.


.

Everything Is Crumbling In My Hand

(The Color In Anything/Staying The Night IV)

.

.

"What are you doing here?"

"Does this mean you missed me?" Julian prompts, already brushing past her.

"You can't be here, Julian. My mother has security-"

"Your security guard is pretty busy right now," Julian cuts her off, pushing the door closed behind him.

"What did you do?" Emily asks, slightly alarmed. "Where is Aaron?"

"Aaron, huh? He's the guy you screwed in your mother's kitchen, isn't he?"

Emily feels her cheeks flush. "No," she lies. "That was someone else."

"Sure," Julian drawls, before he hands her the pills. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. I got held up at a friends house."

"For four days?"

Julian shrugs.

"If you got here sooner, I wouldn't be in this fucking mess," Emily mutters, staring down at the small plastic bag.

"I know. I'm sorry, princess."

When Emily lifts her head, Julian is standing right in front of her, the vodka bottle still in his hand.

"He'll be back soon, Julian. If my mother hears of this-"

"She won't," Julian promises, a smug grin on his face. "And your security guy will be gone for at least another twenty minutes."

Emily frowns, but before she has the time to ask again, Julian's closed the gap between them. With his lips pressed against hers, he walks her backwards towards her bed, pushing her down on the mattress in a haste.

"No, Julian. We can't. If Aaron comes back-"

"I told you, princess. He's busy right now."

"We shouldn't-" Emily starts again, but Julian cuts her off with yet another sloppy kiss. It doesn't feel right.

His body is hovering above hers; he's already fumbling with his belt.

"Julian," Emily starts once more, thinking that she's way too sober for this. He gives her a smug grin, and slips his hand between her legs to pull her panties aside.

She doesn't want to. Yet she lets him.

A heartbeat later, Julian's pulled backwards with force. With his hand on the collar of his shirt, Aaron drags him away from her and towards the door. His expression is unreadable.

Julian keeps stuttering, holding his pants up with one hand while he stumbles over his own feet. Aaron isn't saying anything, he only pulls Julian with him and out of the apartment. The door slams shut behind them.

Sitting up slowly, Emily notices two things at once. First, she's still holding Julian's pills and second, the vodka bottle is still standing next to her bed. It's a split second decision. With a quick look at the closed apartment door, Emily grabs the pills and the vodka, along with a few scattered pieces of her clothing before she stuffs it under her bed. The moment she gets up from the floor, Aaron comes back in.

"Are you alright?" he asks. His face is worn with worry, his voice strained. "Did he hurt you?"

Emily frowns. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Why would I think that?" Aaron echoes, his eyebrows knit together. There's something in his eyes she doesn't understand. "Tell me his name, Emily. I won't let him get away with this."

"He didn't do anything wrong."

"Whatever this was, Emily, it definitely wasn't right. Did you even want him here? Because the look on your face told me otherwise!"

"Does it matter what I want?" She snaps and Aaron frowns.

"Of course it matters! You really don't understand what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Where were you anyway? I thought you were supposed to watch me!"

"Ask your friend. I'm sure he's responsible for that too," Aaron shoots back, before he takes a glance at his watch. "Just promise me, next time he shows up, you won't let him in," he begs, looking somewhat torn.

"You have to leave," Emily states the obvious. Aaron nods. As if on cue, there's a knock on her apartment door.

"I'll be back tonight," Aaron promises, his hand carefully brushing against her cheek.

You shouldn't, Emily thinks as she watches him walk out.

.

Aaron's replacement is the new security guy from yesterday. He seems even more irritated than he did the day before, and Emily keeps pretending he isn't there at all.

He does the same, and Emily wonders what he's done to deserve this. Probably nothing. She didn't deserve this either, did she?

A few hours later there's a persistent knocking on her apartment door, followed by Sarah's voice.

Emily can't really make out what they're saying, but it's clear that Sarah's about to argue her way in. It's only a little while later when she storms into the room, slumping down on the mattress next to Emily.

"How did you get in?"

"It definitely wasn't easy," Sarah mutters, clearly annoyed. "Your friend Liam out there-"

"He told you his name?" Emily asks, turning around to meet her friend's gaze. To her confusion, she can't see the security guy anywhere. "Where did he go?" she blurts.

Sarah chuckles. "He's probably checking in with his supervisor, to find out if what I said is true, which of course, isn't, so he might be back very soon to kick me out."

"Why are you here anyway?"

"Julian told me you got locked up in your apartment. I thought he was just high, actually, but now… Care to tell me what happened?"

Emily shrugs. "Nothing happened."

Sarah raises her brows. "Are you sure about that?"

"My mother just wants to make a fucking point."

"Does this have something to do with Julian? He said he got dragged out of your apartment. For no reason at all, according to him."

"Aaron just lost his temper."

"Aaron?" Sarah sits up straight. "I thought he got promoted after that stunt you pulled with Peter?"

"He did," Emily muses, turning around to lie on her back. "He says he's still doing some security stuff. But he never told me until yesterday."

"Maybe he needs the extra money. Didn't you tell me he and his wife bought a house?"

"Yeah, but why keep it a secret," Emily mutters, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"You keep things from him too."

Emily rolls her eyes. "That's different, don't you think?"

Sarah shrugs. "How long has this been going on between you two now? Two years?"

"One and a half," Emily mumbles, not sure why she feels the need to clarify that.

"That's a first, isn't it?"

Emily blinks. "What do you mean?"

"You've never bothered hanging around a guy for that long, Em. You wanted to see if you could seduce him, and you did. Why do you keep him around?"

"I tried to get rid of him, Sarah. More than just once. I don't know why he keeps coming back."

"I doubt you really tried anything. We both know that if you did, he'd be gone."

Emily shakes her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, he's married, remember? I don't mean anything to him."

"I thought so too," Sarah starts, looking all curious. "But I'm not sure anymore. If I called him now and said you needed help, how long do you think it would take for him to show up?"

Emily frowns. "Leave him alone, Sarah."

"At least let me prove my point."

Emily shakes her head. "You already did. I got it. And still this means nothing. It can't."

"Did you ever tell him what happened in Israel?"

The question comes unexpectedly and Emily stills. "Why are you bringing this up now? We agreed not to talk about it. You promised me."

"I know," Sarah admits regretfully, her eyes on her hands. "But lately I keep wondering if that was a mistake. It's not too late to tell your mother."

"Yeah, of course," Emily scoffs. "She wouldn't have believed me back then, and she definitely won't believe me now."

"You fucked that up yourself. But that was the whole point, right?"

"I'm that cunning?"

"Yes, Em, I think you are. I know I promised not to tell anyone, ever, but I was too young to understand what that actually means."

"What are you saying?" Emily snaps. "You're too old to keep a fucking promise?"

"No, but I'm old enough to know that what he did to you was wrong. And what you did was self-defense."

"Stop it, Sarah. Just fucking stop."

"You should have talked to someone, Emily. Or at least I should have."

"And that would have changed what exactly?"

"I don't know, maybe nothing. But maybe I wouldn't feel so damn guilty then."

Emily laughs. "So it's just about you again? About how you feel?"

"That's not what I said, Emily and you know it. You're just lashing out at me, hoping that I'll just go. You do that all the fucking time!"

"I think you should leave."

"Don't worry, Emily, I will. But only because I have classes to attend. You do too, just in case you forgot."

"I don't give a fuck."

"Yeah," Sarah mutters, already getting out of Emily's bed. "You made that pretty damn clear."

"Why are we always meeting here or at my mother's house?" Emily asks before she can stop herself.

Sarah blinks, startled. "What?"

"You haven't invited me over in years. Why?"

"You know why, Em. We can do whatever we want at your place, well at least we could," Sarah adds with a look back at the security guy.

"That's all there is?" Emily wonders, even though she can tell it's not. "It has nothing to do with your parents and the fact that they don't want you to spend your time with me?"

Emily watches Sarah close her eyes. "Who told you?" she asks quietly. "Julian?"

"You should have told me yourself."

"If my parents knew the truth, they wouldn't be so judgemental. No one would actually. Don't you think it's time to leave that behind? Start with Aaron. Tell him what happened in Israel. And tell him about Italy, too. I don't think he would look at you any differently."

Emily laughs. "Of course he would. You do too."

Sarah looks thrown. "I don't, Em. I never have."

"Yeah, right," Emily mutters, slowly closing her eyes.

.

She stays in bed for the rest of the day, staring out the window, watching the falling snow. She drifts in and out of sleep, getting stuck in one nightmare after another. She wakes up screaming twice, and not in the mood for a third time she finally forces herself to get up, moving from her bed over to the couch.

Liam is standing at the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest, staring straight ahead, unblinking. With a sigh Emily slumps down in front of the couch before she starts the TV. She keeps switching channels, over and over again, until Liam finally snaps. Making his way over to where she's sitting, he snatches the TV remote out of her hands.

"Stop doing that."

"I'm bored," Emily pouts, her eyes meeting his when she leans back against the couch.

"I'd rather be doing something else myself," Liam mutters before turning the TV off, returning to his initial position at the door.

"How long are you supposed to play my fucking babysitter?"

"As long as you keep acting like a spoiled brat."

"That means you're going to be here forever," Emily declares with a chuckle, sounding amused even when she isn't. Liam doesn't answer.

"What did you do to piss off my mother?" she asks, getting back up. "She surely had her reasons to send you here."

It's a lie. But Liam doesn't know that, and his face tells her as much. Emily gets up, crossing the room towards him.

"Look at you," she taunts, all smug and bitchy, already wondering how far she can push it. "Guarding the door of a troubled nineteen year old girl. What are you going to do if I run? Shoot me?"

"Why don't you try and find out?" he prompts darkly and Emily chuckles, definitely tempted to do just that. She takes one step forward, and then another one.

"What are my mother's orders?" she asks. "This isn't exactly part of your job description, is it?"

Liam isn't as impulsive as Peter has been, yet she can see the anger flare in his eyes. She wishes he'd just smack her backwards against the wall. Just a little bit to make it hurt.

"Shift change is in one hour. Why don't you behave a little longer?"

"Maybe I don't want to," Emily mutters, taking another step towards him. This time he actually moves out of her way, and she can't help but laugh. "Scared of a teenage girl?"

"Your reputation gives me no choice but to be careful."

"Reputation, huh?"

"Don't sound so smug, honey. We both know you're not." Liam gives her a long look. "You're just a lonely little girl, literally screaming to get some attention. Maybe you have your reasons, maybe you don't. " He bends a little closer. "Frankly, I don't give a fuck. But you could do us both a favor and clear things with your damn mother so I can go back to doing what I get paid for instead of this."

"You know nothing about me," Emily snaps, anger rising in her chest.

Liam just laughs. It sounds cold and bitter and she feels the sudden urge to take a step back.

"You think you're something special, but you're just like everyone else. Beautiful, yes I have to give you that, but that's the only difference between you and them. Just go and get yourself some antidepressants if you think you need them, but then get a fucking grip like we all do."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't you get it, honey? I don't give a fuck. No one does. That's just how life works."

There's a knock on her apartment door and the relief on Liam's face is evident. He's out in seconds, walking past Aaron, all the while cursing how much he hates his fucking job.

"What just happened?" Aaron asks on his way in, his face instantly worn with worry, his eyes searching hers. "Did he do something? Are you alright?"

Emily shuts her eyes, nods. "I'm fine," she says. "I'm fine."

.

Half an hour later they're sitting across from each other at her kitchen table. Aaron bought something to eat, but Emily hasn't even taken a bite.

"I can order something else if you don't like it," Aaron says tentatively. Maybe he's annoyed.

"I'm not hungry," she states, her eyes fixed on her plate.

"You need to eat something, Emily. When was the last time you did?"

"I'm not hungry," she says again, a little more forceful this time.

Why is he even here?

Aaron goes back to eating in silence, while Emily keeps staring at her untouched food.

"Do you want to have kids?"

The question comes out of nowhere and catches him completely off guard. For one second he just stares, then he starts to cough almost violently, reaching for his water with trembling hands. Emily frowns, even more when she notices that the color seems to have drained from his face.

"Are you pregnant?" Aaron croaks, and Emily blinks.

Oh. Right. Of course.

"That's not an answer."

"Are you pregnant, Emily," he asks her again, and there's a slight quiver in his voice she can't ignore.

"What if I am?" She prompts, her eyes locked with his. It grows quiet, and it's anything but pleasant. Aaron looks frightened, and for one brief moment she's sorry. He's married. She's a fucking mess. It would be a disaster.

"Stop looking at me like that," Emily states, irritated. "I'm not pregnant. I told you I'm on the pill."

She wishes she could ignore the relief washing over his features, but she can't. She should never have brought this up.

"You want to have kids, don't you?" She asks him anyway. He meets her gaze again, and something has changed.

"I don't think we should talk about this."

"Why not?" Emily taunts, trying to sound as smug as she wants to be. "Are you already trying?"

"Emily." It sounds like a warning, and she knows she should listen, shouldn't make this any worse than it already is, but she just can't stop.

"Having kids is awfully selfish, do you realize that? Does Haley?"

He doesn't look just uncomfortable, but confused too. He can't follow her line of thoughts. Why would he?

"You are trying," she mutters, and it's not a question. She doesn't need an answer either, because the way he's looking back at her, all guilty, has already given him away.

Pushing her plate back Emily finally gets up from the table. "I'm not hungry," she adds before she leaves the kitchen.

.

She's back in her bed, staring out of the window and into the dark night sky outside. It's still snowing, and Emily feels the ridiculous need to take a walk.

It's the silence she's longing for. The silence she wishes would settle in her head.

Emily knows Aaron's watching her from where he's sitting in front of her TV, making a miserable job out of hiding it. Maybe he doesn't even try.

It takes fifteen minutes until he finally makes his way over to where she's curled up in her bed, but it takes him another fifteen until he finally lies down next to her.

Emily's tempted to push him away, but only for a second. This is the only thing she knows how to do.

When she turns around to face him he reaches for her cheek. His fingers trail down the side of her face, gentle and careful. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn't. There is nothing left to say.

It's Emily who bends first, her lips finding his in an almost desperate attempt to keep herself from thinking.

Aaron kisses her back, all tongue and teeth, a deep kiss that makes her think about the first one they shared.

This has gone too far, Emily knows. She needs to stop it. Not necessarily for her, but for him. He wants a normal life, he deserves it, but normal isn't something he'll ever find with her at his side.

He's tearing at her clothes while she's tearing at his. It's fucking desperate, they are, and this will only get worse. He's angry, she's furious and they turn her bed into a battlefield with every heated kiss they share.

There's blood on her lips, and on the tip of her tongue, but she only draws him closer, kisses him harder, her fingers tugging at his hair every so forcefully.

He's holding on too tight, yet she only pulls him closer and in between her legs. He gives in almost instantly, their bodies becoming one, and it's already too much. Stars explode behind her closed eyelids, darkness interrupting into light, once, twice and then again. It leaves her panting, silently begging for more and he complies even without her actually asking.

It's rough, and fast and fierce. It's everything and nothing. It's all they have.

.

She keeps lying next to him for the rest of the night, silently watching him in his sleep, his hand tightly curled around hers.

And not for the first time in her life, Emily wishes she could be someone else, anyone, anyone but her.

It's 6am when she gets up, pulling an oversized T-shirt over her head before making her way into the living room to call her mother.

"I'm sorry," Emily starts without hesitation. "You were right, Mother. It won't happen again."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of drawers being torn open.

"You can have your credit card back," her mother announces and just a little bit reluctantly. "But there will be a limit from now on."

Emily bites her lip, saying nothing at all. They did this before. They would do it again.

"If you can convince me that you've gotten your priorities back in line, you can have your car back. Until then I'll send someone to drive you. Speaking of which, I expect you to show up to your classes today."

"Of course."

It's her mother who ends the call first. Emily isn't surprised when she hears the sound of Aaron's cell phone only a few minutes later.

Instead of getting properly dressed, Emily heads for the kitchen to start the coffee machine first.

She's sitting on the kitchen counter, her bare legs dangling over the edge when Aaron shows up in the doorframe. Unlike her he's already fully clothed, his suit slightly wrinkled and with a button missing.

"How did you do that?" he asks, not bothering with pleasantries. "How did you persuade your mother?"

Meeting his gaze, Emily offers him a slight shrug. "I told her what she wanted to hear," she explains calmly. "Do you want some coffee?"

He shakes his head. "No." There's disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Get dressed. I have to drive you to Yale."

.

After that, they don't talk again. Not even a single word.

Aaron waits at the door while she gets dressed. She chooses a black skirt with a fitting black blouse and a dark grey cardigan. A halfway decent outfit, until she adds her studded belts and the fishnet stockings. She leaves her hair down, black waves falling over her shoulders, before she puts on some makeup. Ghostly pale skin, bloody red lips, along with black smudged eyes. It's only then she reaches for the bottle of patchouli, using just enough to make the heavy, dark scent linger.

She grabs her bag and books from her desk on her way to the door, impatiently tapping her heels on the floor until Aaron finally lifts his head.

When his eyes find hers he stills, and for about thirty seconds there's nothing but him staring back at her, unblinking. She almost expects him to say something, but then he just turns his head away, already moving to open the door for her.

The car isn't Aaron's, and it's not a rental either, and that leaves only one other option that makes Emily completely uncomfortable. She briefly ponders calling a cab, until she remembers that she doesn't even have her credit card back yet.

As soon as she's seated on the passenger side Emily pulls the window down even though it's freezing. She instantly regrets her choice of perfume, even more than her clothing and it's just then that she notices that her coat smells like weed. No doubt Haley would be able to tell she's been in the car.

Aaron must have registered the same thing because he pulls his window down too. Emily already suspects it won't help.

They stay silent for the entire car ride, neither of them saying a single word. When he pulls into the parking lot, Emily pushes the door open before he's fully stopped the car. She should say something, anything, but she stays quiet and throws the door shut without uttering a word.

She takes two steps at a time, hurrying forward through the snow, squinting her eyes against the blinding white. It's still snowing, white puffy flakes falling from a dark grey sky, adding more snow to the ever growing masses.

It's Aaron who regrets it first. He calls after her, but if anything it only makes her walk faster.

"Emily, wait!"

She doesn't, instead pressing her books against her chest, silently willing him to leave her alone. Students are already turning their heads.

"Emily, please wait." He catches up faster than she expected, and his hand on her arm makes her flinch. She takes two steps backwards and away from him, letting go of her books.

Fuck.

It's Aaron who bends to retrieve them, brushing off the snow with his gloved hands. "I'm sorry," he says when he gives them back and Emily isn't sure what exactly he's apologizing for. She doesn't ask either, instead she just spins around, continuing on her way.

"Emily, please!"

She bites her lip, forcing herself to keep going, to not look back, not even once.

But Emily stops anyway, in the middle of the path, her soaked books against her chest and her eyes turned skywards. Snowflakes get caught in her eyelashes but she doesn't move to brush them away. She keeps watching as they tumble down, falling and falling and-

Emily knows Aaron's still there, still achingly close, carefully watching and she wonders what he's waiting for.

She won't break, not now, not when he's there to watch, not again.

She almost laughs when she spots Julian, standing at a safe distance away, watching her intently, and so very differently.

She could destroy him in the blink of an eye. It would be so fucking easy. Yet he still thinks he has the upper hand.

What a fucking idiot.

"Emily."

She blinks, turning slightly, unsurprised by the fact that Aaron's still standing there. He has his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, snowflakes caught in his dark hair.

She could destroy him too. And she wouldn't even have to lie. Even a small part of the truth would be enough to ruin his life.

He's scared. She can see it in his eyes, the uncertainty of what she's going to do. She could tell him that she's not going to do anything. Not now, not ever. Not to him. But she doesn't.

She turns right, walking away from both Aaron and Julian, even when she isn't sure where she's going.

It doesn't really matter anyway.

.

.


Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.