A/N: This chapter contains allusions and elements of grooming and statutory rape. It's in line with some things that happened on the show, but delves into the dark nature of how PLL should have actually handled inappropriate relationships like Wilden/Ali. It was swept under the rug in the show and no one brings to light that she was a victim. My writing will very much look at things like older men being in the wrong, because even though Alison acted like an adult, children can never consent. This chapter shows the grim reality of that. It does not get super graphic, but it is uncomfortable to read. It could be potentially triggering for some (hell, I wrote it and I was uncomfortable reading it). Also heed the warning that there is some blood and gore in this one, too.
Chapter 6:
The Darkness
When Alison finished cleaning up after the autopsy they went back to the medical library so she could write her report while talking through it with Emily.
She had just finished her write up for the police when her phone starting bleating at her. She was supposed to be done for the day, but she rarely turned it off...just in case the hospital needed her.
In this case, they really needed her. She looked at the screen and felt like screaming and cursing and throwing her phone.
She had fight back her frustration and anger and work hard to pull off a sad concerned look.
"It seems as though my day is not as over with as I thought." She quickly sent a message back and then looked up at Emily. "A patient just came in that's going to require emergency surgery. Doctor Hastings is already in surgery and two of our other surgeons are tied up with a motor vehicle crash."
Damn it. DAMN IT! She had been looking forward to dinner and a night of fucking, which she assumed was the way the night would be going.
"It doesn't look like dinner is going to happen tonight." And more upsetting, neither was the sex.
Alison put her phone down and then handed Emily a copy of the autopsy report.
Emily seemed disappointed, but was completely understanding. After all, she had been one of Alison's patients, and her care had saved her life. She wouldn't take that away from anyone else, no matter how much she wanted to feel Alison's body quivering against hers.
"It's okay." Emily placed her hand on top of Alison's as she took the paperwork from her. She leaned in, close enough so that their lips would touch at the slightest movement. "I can be patient."
Well, I fucking can't. Alison was basically undressing the detective with her eyes. Her eyes flickered to Emily's mouth.
She felt the brunette's hand against her knee.
A wild animal inside of Alison almost clawed its way to the surface. She wanted to pounce on her, to rip her clothes off and have her way with her right there. She could see by the sultry look in Emily's eyes that she felt the same.
But they didn't have time.
Before Alison could protest, Emily was pulling her hand back and moving to give her a gentle peck on the cheek.
Emily's soft silky lips against her tender flesh sent a hot rush broiling over her. Her cheeks burned. She felt her heart beating faster.
What an odd feeling.
Most days her heart was basically just filling a void in her chest. From a medical standpoint, she knew it was there. Feeling it was a different story.
It made sense. She was attracted to Emily. The detective was smart. Crafty. Funny. Brave. And sexy as hell. They clicked in a way that she'd never clicked with anyone else. It was like there was a magnet pulling them together.
She bowed her head and smiled bashfully.
"Sorry, I probably should have asked…" Before Emily could finish her statement Alison grasped the side of her neck and pressed her lips against Emily's.
This time it was Emily's turn to bashfully turn her head and laugh softly.
"Consider it a preview of things to come." Alison winked. She could have done so much more, gone so much deeper. But she had a life to save. "I have to run. I would walk you out to your car if I had the time…"
"It's totally fine." Emily reached for her hand.
They'd done a lot of touching the past few hours. They'd had almost as much contact as they had the two weeks Emily had been in the hospital. But when she was hospitalized there had been lines.
Those lines were gone now. Taking it slow and letting her wants and needs build to a height was leading to something that Alison could only imagine would end in amazing sex.
"Unlike my job…" Where Emily worked with dead people, "…your job is to save lives."
Alison knew she was right.
"It's in my blood." Among other things. Killing people was part of her, too. But Emily didn't need to know that. "It's in yours, too."
"How so?" She seemed genuinely surprised. She worked with dead victims all day long.
"The bad guys you catch and put away would go on to hurt people. You save lives, too, Detective. Don't forget that." She had to force herself to pull her hand away.
"Thank you, Alison." Occasionally Emily needed a reminder of why she continued to do what she did, despite it driving her insane sometimes.
Alison's phone chirped again.
They quickly exchanged numbers and tentatively made plans for the following night.
She watched as Emily walked out the double doors leading to the waiting room.
God, she's got a great ass.
As she watched her go she wondered if the brunette was going to go back to the police station to learn more about the case.
The way Emily had watched her carving into the body had excited Alison in ways she'd never experienced before. She felt like she was sharing her work, and Emily seemed to admire it.
As she was rushing to get to her surgery Alex popped up again, jamming a microphone in her face.
"What can you tell us about the autopsy?"
I can tell you that yours will be the next autopsy if you don't get the fuck out of my face.
She contained herself, restraining herself from hitting her.
"I thought I told you to leave my hospital. There are other places you can go in this city." Alison gripped her hands into fists. She sized Alex up and added hatefully, "Try a restaurant. Maybe get out and get some food. You're looking kind of thin. Do they not have food in Philly?"
She saw the moment her hit landed.
Alex had been anorexic back in high school. She had also been an incredibly snobby bitch who tried to make everyone else's business her business. She was ruthless after she found out she was going to school with "the girl who survived" the Rosewood massacre, which is why Alison didn't feel bad about the low blow. Then again, she didn't feel bad about much of anything.
Alex furrowed her brows and pushed harder.
"Can you tell us about the extent of his injuries?"
"I have a surgery to get to, Alex." She started to move away, but Alex blocked her path. She envisioned herself slicing Alex's carotid artery and painting the hospital walls with her blood. "A patient is dying on a table right now. Get out of my way."
"Is it true that that the victim's hands were sewed between his legs?"
Alison froze.
How the hell does she know that?
That wasn't in the press release.
Her icy blue eyes narrowed, her brows pulling together in a tight line. What else did the little snoop know?
She glanced at the front desk, where Kathleen was staring at them. Maybe the bitch had talked to Alex just to spite her.
It irked Alison to hear Alex talk about her work.
"Is it true that fishing wire was used…"
"No comment." A voice from behind her interrupted the journalist.
Alison looked over Alex's shoulder to see the brunette standing there.
"Forgot to give you back your pen."
That was a lie. Emily had taken it so she could come back and see her one last time before their date.
She walked over to Alison and glared at Alex.
"If you would just give me what I want I'd leave you alone." Alex tapped her foot impatiently.
"I am going to have to ask you to please refrain from harassing an officer in an ongoing investigation." Alison sidled up next to Emily. They were a united front. A team. "As for the medical report, it will be made available whenever the detective says it will be available. Now, please leave my hospital before I have you escorted out by security. I have patients to attend to."
Her threat sent Alex walking away, tail tucked between her legs.
Alison smiled at Emily.
"Thanks for the assist." She looked around to make sure no one was around before she reached for Emily's hand. She squeezed it gently. Her touch was so delicate.
"Any time." Emily squeezed back. "I know how relentless she can be. I dealt with her when I was a rookie. Didn't really know how to handle her then. I do now."
"You've come a long way, rookie." Alison took the pen from Emily's hand. "This isn't my pen, by the way."
"I know." Emily turned to walk away. She winked over her shoulder. "Get to surgery. I'll see you later."
The blonde walked towards the surgical area as a young nervous nurse briefed her on the patient.
A ruptured appendix. Twenty-three-year-old white male.
Her first kill had been a twenty-three-year-old man. Someone ten years her senior, a senior in college.
After she scrubbed up and went into the surgery suite she took a good look at the patient. He even looked a little bit like her first kill.
Alison tried not to recoil. Instead, she focused on the blade in her hand. She looked at the blue drape surrounding the surgical field and pressed the sharp instrument into his skin. She watched as the first trickles of blood oozed out.
And she was reminded of him.
She blinked and the surgical field was gone.
o ~ O ~ o
~ Then ~
The first string of killings started when she was fourteen. A man named Darren Wilden.
She met him in Cape May during summer vacation when she was thirteen going on fourteen.
She'd told her aunt that she was going with friends from school. She didn't tell her that the school was a college university.
She'd drawn up a bunch of fake paperwork and had her aunt sign it so it seemed legit. She had Riley's older sister call and pretend she'd be the chaperone. Riley was out of the country with her parents. Naomi was in Palm Beach, Florida. And Alison was bored sitting at home with her aunt. So she'd planned a trip. Riley's sister was happy to do it for the cash.
Her aunt was none-the-wiser. Alison knew how to deceive people. Even her own family.
She dyed her hair black, paid for a fake ID, and became Vivian Darkbloom, an alias that would never be traced back to her.
She met Darren at a college party. He knew she was too young to be there. But he didn't care.
They hit it off. They met up for dinner the next night. They went to clubs over the next few nights. He showed her the city. They took their time getting to know each other.
She was careful not to tell him anything about her life in Rosewood. She was aloof, a traveler, a woman on vacation. She was playing a role that fascinated her. She liked feeling so mature.
She thought she was in control.
But she wasn't.
It started with a touch. His hand on her knee at dinner one night.
Alison froze, unsure of how to feel about it. She wanted to like it, but it was strange.
She had a flash to her mom and dad trying to get Jason to touch her knee for a picture, but he'd blown up at them.
Alison didn't know how to react to Wilden's touch. Her chest felt heavy and she saw black spots in her eyes, but when he asked, "Is it too much?" and started to pull back she shook her head, because she knew it's what he wanted. And he was cute and older and sophisticated. Or so she thought.
She slowly eased into letting him rub her thigh. She shot him a sultry smile, though her nerves were making her feel sick to her stomach. Deep down something didn't feel right.
They were kissing behind the bar the next night. She'd kissed boys and girls before, but not like him. He made her feel special, told her how mature she was. She prided herself on being mature enough to date a boy in college.
But she was only thirteen.
Two weeks later he took her back to his boathouse with the promise of a good time. It was fun at first. They drank beer and talked and laughed. There was an exhilarating feeling in the air. They were miles and miles away from civilization. It was just the two of them, free to do whatever they wanted. There was an element of danger to it, but she felt incredibly safe with him. She felt so grown up.
When they started kissing in his bed that night he swore they wouldn't do anything she didn't want to do.
He asked "is this okay?" as he slid his hand underneath her skirt.
She felt weird about it, but she said it was okay.
He asked, "are you okay with this?" as he touched her chest. There was barely anything there.
He had to know how young she was.
Soon he had her clothes off and he was naked, too. His hairy chest and pale body was ugly. And so was the thing between his legs. It looked big. Intimidating. She'd seen porn before, but it looked different in real life.
She wasn't ready, but she didn't say that she wasn't ready. She didn't know how to.
He asked if she wanted to stop. She didn't say yes. But she didn't say no either. It was all happening so fast that she didn't know how to comprehend it.
Then he was on top of her and it hurt more than she thought it would and she wanted to cry, but she didn't want him to think she was a baby, so she didn't say anything.
When the tears came against her own volition he kept telling her, "You have to relax, baby. You'll feel better if you just relax."
He tried to make her feel better, but it only made her feel worse.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just give it a few minutes. It's going to feel good. I promise."
He kept apologizing, but Alison didn't believe him when he said he was sorry.
She never realized how small her frame was compared to his, but she felt like he was smothering the life out of her. She tried to relax, but she couldn't.
She closed her eyes and imagined herself on a beach. She listened to the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore. She got lost in the scent of the saltwater.
When he was done he rolled off of her. He smiled and kissed her and told her she was beautiful and that he loved her.
But she didn't feel very beautiful, and she didn't feel loved. She didn't feel anything.
All she could think to herself was, "Did I want to do that?"
Was that his idea? Or hers? Or both of theirs? She hadn't told him not to.
Her feelings were very conflicting.
Darren was nice to her and told her she was pretty and he bought her gifts and let her drink beer with him, so she kept hanging around with him. She kept succumbing to what he wanted even though every time he asked if she was okay she wanted to scream "NO!"
By summer's end she was ready to go home. But three days before she was supposed to leave she realized she had missed her period. She had only been getting it for about a year, but she knew when she was supposed to have it. She'd never missed one.
When she told him he got very quiet. He disappeared for a few hours and when he came back he had a test he wanted her to take.
She looked at the pregnancy test, unsure of what she was supposed to do. He gave her the box and told her to the read the directions and then ordered her into the bathroom.
When the little squiggly lines showed up Alison knew she was in trouble. She walked out of the bathroom crying.
He was calm. So calm that it unnerved her. He talked to her about how they were too young to have children.
He drove her three hours away to a clinic and waited in the car while she got the first pill for the abortion. He made her go in alone.
She shakily handed her fake ID over to the receptionist, who peered at her. The older woman looked at her with an expression that told her that she didn't believe her age, but she didn't say anything. She didn't judge her. Her eyes were soft. Alison remembered that tiny little detail years later.
They were so kind to her there.
"Please. I…I'm in trouble," Alison whispered out a cry.
The nurse held her hand as she talked to her about what was going to happen. Then they gave her a pill and told her to take another one at home.
The second pill made her very sick.
Darren just watched from the hallway as she cried. She was hunched over on the toilet clutching her stomach as she bled and cramped worse than she ever had. It was a terrible feeling. She felt so alone.
After that day he was really cold to her.
It wouldn't be until months later that Alison realized Darren Wilden had groomed her.
She put on a show of nothing being wrong, smiling at dinner with her aunt, laughing with her friends at school. But inside she felt sick.
Then, six months after Cape May the universe sent her a nice little gift-wrapped package.
A chance at revenge.
She had been stalking him on social media, a little monster brewing inside of her. A lioness ready to rip into her prey. He had been boasting online about coming to Rosewood for a job interview with the police force.
He didn't know Vivian Darkbloom lived in Rosewood, and he didn't even know Alison DiLaurentis existed.
She set up her very first torture kit that day. She brushed up on some criminology and made sure she had everything that would keep her from getting caught.
After his interview she surprised him at the seedy little Airbnb he was staying at. She had been very careful not to let anyone see her go in. She checked for cameras before setting everything up.
She had experiences that no fourteen-year-old should have had. She knew things that no fourteen-year-old should have known.
When he walked into the tiny house he spotted her wearing a black leather outfit, complete with gloves and a whip.
At first he didn't recognize her with her blonde hair. But then he smiled and warmly said,
"Vivian."
She lured him into the bedroom…and of course he followed like a horny dog.
She'd come prepared. She ordered him to strip and handcuff himself to the bed. She spread his legs and bound his ankles to the bedposts.
He watched her sauntering around the room and grew hard.
She grinned and put a ball-gag in his mouth.
He was insanely into it.
But then he witnessed something strange. She put on a large plastic apron and a face shield. She pulled out the stolen medical supplies she'd poached from a delivery truck.
Then…fourteen-year-old Alison plunged a needle in between his toes. She'd chosen that particular spot because she knew it would hurt the most and it wouldn't leave marks. Besides, she was planning to cut them off anyway.
She sedated him first because she wanted her signature to be perfect. She couldn't do that if he was thrashing around.
She sliced into his cheek and a euphoric wave of bliss washed over her.
She stared at him and thought about driving a knife into his neck.
She was angry. At him. At herself for falling prey to his charm.
But it's not your fault. That's what her brother would have told her.
Jason always knew what to say.
She looked at the man in front of her. She felt so fucking stupid.
"It's not your fault." Jason's voice was firmer this time. Sometimes she was thankful for the version of him she had stored in her mind.
When Darren woke up she saw the same piercing blue eyes that had once hovered over her and told her to relax as she cried.
A flash of light exploded in her vision.
She was thirteen years old, hunched over on the toilet again. She was bleeding again.
Now, it was his turn to bleed.
She went to work on his bare feet first. She put tourniquets around his ankles. He asked a hushed "what are you doing?" but she didn't answer.
As she hacked his toes off and listened to the sounds of his muffled screams she felt a strong sense of control overpowering her.
This is for Cape May.
She used a pair of sheers to cut off his pinky toe.
He screamed into the ball-gag.
This is for taking away something that I can never get back.
Another toe plopped to the floor.
He cursed.
This is for taking advantage of me.
Another toe. More blood. More screams.
For RAPING me.
The sound of the clippers cutting through bone.
You groomed me.
His muffled screams weakening.
You raped me.
Another toe bouncing to the floor.
I couldn't consent.
She hacked angrily.
I was only thirteen.
Two toes left.
You knew what you were doing.
One toe left.
Fuck you.
Once she was done with his feet she moved to his flaccid member. She gagged when she looked at it. She saw flashes of the night he'd taken her to his boathouse. She had to choke back vomit.
She took it in her hands and moved her hand against it just enough to get a little bit of a reaction. Then she took a pair of garden sheers and snipped the tip of it off, reveling in hearing his muted screams. His back arched up off the bed as blood spurted out everywhere. He screamed into the ball-gag.
"Mazel Tov." A dark laugh rose up from her chest. It was like a piece of her darkness was being released. Liberation from her pain.
He kicked his feet so hard that the bed banged against the wall. But no one would hear. She'd made sure they were alone. They were in the middle of nowhere. Just like they'd been in the middle of nowhere on his houseboat.
Fuck you.
Darren Wilden's death was slow. Painful. It was everything he deserved and more.
When he was finally dead she went to work. She carved an upside down cross from stem to sternum, staring at where the blade had split his skin.
She stared at the gash in his cheek. Maybe in death it would be a reminder of what he'd done in life.
She pulled his dead body into a seated position, letting his head hang down. She placed his hands over his crotch.
Then she cleaned up very thoroughly, making sure not to leave a trace.
She strolled away like it was nothing.
She liked the way it made her feel. Powerful. In control. It had ignited a fire inside of her. An uncontrollable urge she couldn't fight. A rage. A need.
That year she had sought out two other victims. She'd had a taste for blood. And revenge.
She'd been fairly consistent with her kills, except for when she took some time off after her aunt fell ill. She'd halted everything to take care of her.
The years had gone by. And the calling drew her back in. She thought she'd be satisfied once Darren was out of the picture, but her appetite was not satiated. She had gotten a taste for blood and nothing could curb it.
It was only when Emily entered the picture that she upped her game. The detective was special.
Alison appreciated special.
But she hadn't anticipated just how special Emily would be. She hadn't anticipated that the brunette would become an anchor in her life, holding her steady even when she felt like she was going to capsize in the waves.
o ~ O ~ o
The appendectomy went smoothly. Alison could do routine surgeries in her sleep. After the man was wheeled to recovery she disposed of her surgical attire.
The first thing she did was check her phone. She saw a message from the brunette.
Thank you for lunch. Can't wait for tomorrow night. Have a good evening, Alison.
Alison clutched her phone to her chest like a giddy teenage girl. Spending time with Emily made her realize that she'd missed out on real opportunities to connect with people growing up.
Then she remembered…
I CAN'T connect with people.
She never had. Not like this.
She sent a reply back.
The pleasure was all mine.
She wanted to add "I can't wait to pleasure YOU…" but instead added a sweet,
Despite how we met, I am so very glad we did. Take care, Emily. I'll see you tomorrow.
She couldn't get home fast enough. She teetered between taking a cold shower to control the heat in her body or running for the toys in her dresser.
She opted for her favorite trusty vibrator. She imagined Emily was probably doing the same. The heat between them had been building for weeks. Their conversations were nice because they were getting to know each other, but talking didn't fulfill all of their urges.
She worked up a sweat as she closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like when she was on top of the brunette, riding her wildly as she gripped her supple bosom with her palms.
When she climaxed she shuddered out Emily's name.
She fell against the mattress, her nerve endings on fire.
She'd never had a fantasy that was better than actual sex.
When she was done she laid in bed, picturing what it would be like to have Emily next to her. She wondered if she was a cuddly person in bed. It was hard to tell. She was genuine and nice, but she had scars, and sometimes that could distance a person. Alison knew that from her own personal experience. She detached herself every time she had sex. It was just easier.
Fuck my parents.
Fuck the NAT Club.
Fuck Darren Wilden.
She felt emotionally and mentally stunted because of what she'd gone through. But how was that possible if she'd never had emotions in the first place?
Why can this woman make me feel things?
She wondered if she would be able to let Emily in when they became intimate. She'd opened herself up to the brunette in a lot of ways, but what would sex with her be like?
Her phone startled her out of her post-bliss. She greedily reached for it, hoping it was Emily. But it was from her fuck-buddy Taylor.
She'd known Taylor for about a year. They met at a medical conference on the west coast. They had studied more body anatomy on each other that weekend than they had studied attending actual medical panels.
When Taylor moved out to Philadelphia a few months later they met up. She was a hell of a lay. Alison would give her that. And she was young and hot and insanely smart. Fortunately for Alison, Taylor wasn't looking for anything serious. They used one another to scratch an itch. That was all.
She looked at Taylor's text.
U up?
A late night booty call.
Alison snorted out a laugh. She was certain that Taylor would not be able to satisfy her urges anymore.
Actually…I found someone. I think we might be getting serious. But it's been a fun run with you, T.
Thankfully, Taylor was no-strings-attached, so there was no drama. Just a,
Cool. Congrats. If it doesn't work out let me know.
Alison let out a content sigh and then closed her eyes, visions of Emily dancing in her head. She dreamed about her all night long. Not just sex. Their touches. Her kindness. Her smile. Her honesty. She loved that Emily was so open.
Those wet dreams turned into daydreams all day at the hospital. She had to force herself to focus on her surgery patients even though her mind was nothing but Emily, Emily, Emily.
She obsessively stared at their conversation from the morning. It wasn't anything special. Just a few words.
Good morning, Alison.
Good morning, Emily.
They texted a little bit throughout the day, but Alison's schedule was full. Time flew by. She was cleaning up after a routine surgery when her phone buzzed at her. She glanced at the message from her favorite brunette.
Working until eight. Let's grab dinner afterwards if you're done at the hospital.
Alison smiled at the screen. The bright text illuminated her face in the shadows of the surgical suite.
You better be working LIGHTLY on desk duty, Detective.
She didn't expect an immediate response, but to her delight she saw three little bubbles pop up as Emily replied,
Wouldn't dare dream of going against your orders, Doctor.
Alison shuddered. Had she not been in an area that was viewable by a gallery she would have slipped her fingers into her scrubs, closed her eyes, and called out Emily's name as she came.
She went by to check on her patients.
She had been avoiding the appendectomy that looked like Darren Wilden, but she knew she had to put her Hippocratic Oath first, so she checked on him before she left. He was doing well and was ready for discharge. She finished up his paperwork and gathered her things.
She just had one stop to make before she left for the day.
She walked towards the front desk, knowing that Kathleen was on her break. Kathleen had to have things set a certain way. She followed a rigid schedule. She had to have structure and routine. She was predictable.
Alison looked at the sad little plant on her desk. It would be dead within a matter of days. To help it along she sprinkled it with more poison.
She stared at Kathleen's name plate.
If I could salt the earth around you to make sure nothing else ever grew in your cunt garden I would.
As she was turning to leave, her hip bumped Kathleen's mouse. It brought her computer screen to life.
Kathleen had a poor habit of leaving her computer programs open. She was smart in a lot of ways, but she was terrible when it came to security in technology. She could guard the damn doors all day long, but a hacker could easily work their way into her computer.
You make it too easy for me.
Alison couldn't resist. She looked to make sure no one was around. Then she started poking around on Kathleen's computer.
What she found astonished her.
Her eyes tracked some of the hospital's funds, specifically funds for a grant for ailing children. Money that had been funneled elsewhere. Money that could have saved numerous dying kids.
Kathleen wasn't good at security. But she was good at online banking and gambling, as her history indicated.
Alison scrolled through her history. Over the years she had racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars that could have saved lives.
Stealing from sick children.
Was that breaking one of her rules?
Alison glared angrily at the screen.
She knew there was a reason she hated her. She didn't hate indiscriminately. She could read people very well, and as it turns out she had read the mean old bitch just right.
Turns out that "Little Miss Follow the Rules" had broken several rules. She had stolen. And she'd been so careless leaving it out in the open. It was something that Alison could use against her.
It was a reason.
"Oh, Kathleen…" Alison shook her head, making a 'tsk' sound with her tongue. "Kathleen, Kathleen, what am I going to do with you?"
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive she used to keep some of her medical files on and plugged it into the receptionist's computer.
She glanced at the clock, keeping an eye on the time.
She uploaded the files so she could go through them more thoroughly to determine how much the woman had embezzled and how many children's lives it overlapped with. She basically had what she needed to make a decision about Kathleen's fate, but she had to be sure before she took the chance of taking her life.
She'd have to make it look natural. Kathleen couldn't be one of the SLK's victims. It could lead back to her too easily. She had to do to her what she'd done to the rapist surgeon.
After she had the data that she needed she put the woman's computer back to sleep. Then she walked away, concocting a plan in her head that she'd take care of at a later date.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and searched until she found the number she was looking for.
Her emotions softened when she hit the little green call button.
Aria picked up on the second ring.
Alison hated that the forensic pathologist had been laid up ill the last two days. If she had any other way to go through with her plan she would have done it.
"Alison?" She sounded groggy, but she still had an upbeat nature to her tone.
"Hey." Alison's voice was smooth and kind. Almost motherly. "How are you feeling?"
"A little better." There was a shuffling noise on the phone. Aria sitting up on the couch. She'd likely been sleeping all day.
"I'm bringing you some soup." Alison threw her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the front door.
She'd already called the order in.
"You don't have to…"
"I insist. I'm not going to let you say no."
Aria sighed, silently giving in.
"It's not that frozen crap from the hospital cafeteria, is it?"
Alison chuckled.
"Of course not. Fresh Bistro Café is on the way to your place. I've already called it in. Vegetable stock with garden veggies and gluten free noodles. I'm heading out to pick it up now."
"Oh, wow." She sounded flattered. "They're so expensive though."
"I'm a trust fund baby and a highly paid surgeon. I've got this, Aria." Alison walked through the double doors as they opened up into the parking lot for her. "Do you need anything else while I'm out?"
There was a hesitant sigh on the other line.
Aria didn't like being treated like a child. Alison knew it. But she also knew that she owed the peppy little pathologist.
"I could use a couple of things from the grocery store."
"Text me a list."
She would go to the ends of the Earth to get everything Aria needed, including the organic free-range vegan dairy-free gluten-free everything-free she ate. She never would have hurt Aria if she hadn't had to.
When she showed up with both arms full of groceries along with the fresh soup Aria was so appreciative that she was nearly falling all over herself to help her unload the food.
Alison banished her to the couch and told her to rest while she unloaded the groceries.
When she walked into the living room Aria was curled up underneath a blanket, perfectly content.
She lived alone. She was too focused on work to care about dating. She didn't need a man to make her happy. Alison admired that about her.
"So," Aria cupped her hands around the soup bowl and took a sip. She was already looking much better. "Tell me about the autopsy. How did it go?"
Her bright green-hazel eyes were sparkling in delight. Part of the reason Alison liked her so much was her zest for the dead. Aria truly enjoyed the morbid aspects of her job. She liked cutting in to people. The only difference between the two of them was that Alison did it to people who were living.
The blonde sat down next to her.
"Cause of death was blood loss." She had known that going in to it. She had watched him slowly bleed out. She had watched the light go out of his eyes. "Ruled a homicide."
"Nothing we didn't already know." Aria nodded, gripping the warm cup of soup close to her chest. "Tell me what else you saw. What else did you observe?"
"I did my best, but I could never pretend to be as good as you are at picking up on all the small little details."
"Bullshit." Aria gently kicked her with her bare foot. "You've studied forensics enough and sat in on autopsies with me enough times to know everything I would have observed."
"Well…" Alison knew everything there was to know about Garrett's death, so she went through it step by step, "…he was awake when the killer was torturing him. Restrained, but nothing that indicated what he was restrained with. His hands were sutured to his penis with fishing wire. Given the blood flow and the amount of time it took, that seems to be the first thing the killer did."
And I savored every fucking moment of it.
"His face was disfigured by way of his mouth. No indication that he ever fought back. No defensive wounds. But he wasn't sedated. Toxicology report is pending. After working around the sutures and taking samples from him it looks as though he'd had sex recently. He wore a condom…" Thankfully for the poor girl involved. Alison knew what it was like to be young and pregnant by an older man, "…so there probably won't be any DNA traces."
"That's interesting." Aria's face was tight in thought.
Alison could see her mentally running the autopsy in her head. Her brain was like a giant computer of anatomy. Aria could piece things together in the same way that Alison could.
"Fingernail scrapings?" Aria questioned.
"Cops did them."
They won't find anything.
"Observation of the organs?"
"All normal, except his pituitary gland and adrenal glands were both abnormal in size."
"Mmm." Aria didn't seem surprised. "Probably indicates steroid usage."
"That's what I thought." Alison agreed.
"Brain?"
I felt like smashing it against the morgue floor…
"Normal."
"Sounds like you were very thorough." There was a hint of pride in Aria's voice, but Alison couldn't enjoy it, because she didn't like what she'd done to get her hands on Garrett.
"I was channeling you." Alison smiled and pat her leg.
"Yeesh, don't do that. It's scary in my brain." Aria's lips twisted into a playful grin.
It would be a dream compared to mine…
"Are you sure you're feeling better? I can…I could do more to help if you need it." She'd seen some dishes in the sink.
"Nah." Aria waved it off. "I'll be fine. This is nothing compared to me being laid up with Malaria when I did my stint with Doctors Without Borders."
Aria was pretty much a saint compared to Alison.
The devil poisoning an angel. Seems about right.
But would the devil nurse the angel back to health? Her thoughts were so complicated sometimes that she wasn't sure who the real Alison was.
Alison had wanted to do a program like Doctors Without Borders, but she wasn't sure how she'd be able to structure her kills overseas. Besides, even if she'd wanted to leave, she couldn't turn away from her aunt after she got sick.
Mary had tried to push her to do something more than become her caretaker.
"You should be out there living your life," Mary had said at the very beginning of her diagnosis.
"You ARE my life, Aunt Mary." She was all that Alison had left.
She remembered taking her aunt's feeble hand…and being unable to filter out the memories of her childhood.
Mary holding her as she shivered and cried at night.
Mary gently bathing her after she wet the bed.
Mary cradling her as she sobbed over Jason's grave.
Mary protecting her from what was left of their despicable family.
"You'll never get near her. Ever. Do you hear me?" She'd hissed at her own father at the funeral. "You stay away from my niece."
All her aunt had ever wanted for her was a normal life.
But Alison was anything but normal.
I'm so sorry. She wanted to look towards the sky and cry. I tried. I really did.
She thought that once her parents were gone her anger would dissipate. She'd been a good girl for her aunt. She really had.
Then she met him.
After what had happened with Darren Wilden she'd snapped again. She hadn't been able to shut out the monster inside.
The same monster that had hurt Aria.
She often wondered if she'd never met Darren if she would have followed a different path. Maybe she wouldn't have started killing people.
Then again, it had started before Wilden.
I was seven years old.
"You look sad." Aria reached over and touched her hand.
Do I? Do I even know what sad feels like?
She felt sad when Jason died. She felt sad when Mary died. She felt sad when Emily was upset.
Why did she only feel sad sometimes? Why couldn't she care all the time?
She glanced at Aria, the perfect lie ready. She always had the perfect lie ready.
"The autopsy was disturbing." Only because she'd had to mar her perfect work. "It's such a shame that this world has monsters in it."
Monsters that hide in the shadows. Talia. Sydney. Ian. Garrett.
Me.
Was she a bad person? She rid the world of other bad people. Did that not make up for what she was doing?
"I know what you mean." Aria sighed. "I have to separate the person from the body. Look at it as strictly pieces to a larger part."
"You do that?" Alison did that with her patients, too.
"I wouldn't be able to do what I do otherwise." Aria blew on her soup and sipped on it. "I know I can always break down about it later…"
Something Alison had only done once.
After Emily's surgery.
"I have to put science before my feelings when I'm working." She glanced at Alison. "Or have someone to keep me company."
Aria didn't think it was weird that Alison wanted to observe her autopsies. She liked having her around.
"It gets lonely down there sometimes. And believe me, I appreciate the silence. I like the quiet life." She was so simple. So easy to please. "But it takes the weight off my shoulders when you visit."
"I know what you mean." Alison's lips flickered into a smile at the thought of Emily. "One of the detectives who is working the case observed the autopsy yesterday."
She thought of Emily standing over her beautiful work of art. Emily admiring it from all angles, trying to figure the puzzle out. Emily coming to terms with the fact that Garrett was a monster, and that perhaps he deserved his fate.
"Oh. Wow. They usually aren't interested in the medical aspect. Normally the police just wait on my findings. Most of them can't stomach seeing the bodies being cut in to."
Emily is different. She's curious.
Alison had known that about her the moment she met her. Her brazen attitude bestowed a confidence about her. She wasn't afraid of anything. It was exhilarating.
"Guess the cops are really bearing down on this. I've worked both ends of the candle for a long time. I've learned that most law enforcement officers prefer to leave the body in their mind at the scene. They don't want to see the broken bits and pieces again. And I know the hospital is finicky about people being around bio-hazards and medical waste. I'm surprised Chief Hastings okayed a cop being there."
A tiny smile formed on Alison's lips. She had a devilish look in her eyes.
"Oh, you are so bad." Aria reached across the couch and playfully pushed her. "You didn't ask?"
"It's not like it's against the rules. They're allowed to be involved. The Chief just likes to know when they're there."
"So, what made you break the rules, you little rebel?" Aria lifted her brows. "Or more specifically…who?" When Alison blushed Aria chuckled. "I knew it. Is she hot? Or he?"
"It's a she." Alison nodded. "And she's a total smoke show. You remember my gunshot patient from a few weeks ago? The detective?"
"It's her? Oh, wow! I knew you were spending a lot of time in her room." Aria practically squealed.
For a moment, Alison felt like they were in high school gossiping like normal teenagers.
But when she was a teenager her extracurriculars had not been the same as the other girls. While Naomi and Riley were busy fighting over who got to date Nick, Alison was off chopping people to pieces.
"We got to know each other a bit when she was hospitalized, but I couldn't do anything since she was my patient." Alison bit her lip.
"That's such a stupid rule." Aria balked. "Consenting adults should be able to date whoever they want. She seemed to like you. You like her…"
"Yeah, but Chief Hastings would have a coronary if she found me making out with a patient."
Alison had wanted to do much more than make out. She'd wanted to pull Emily's hospital gown off, toss her scrubs aside, and climb on top of her.
Yet...somehow just flirting had been enough. Getting to know her had been enough.
"She got her stitches out yesterday, so she's not my patient anymore." A devilish grin.
"You better jump on her while she's hot. Don't let her get scooped up by someone else."
"We're going out tonight." Alison's cheeks flooded with color.
She couldn't help herself when she was talking about Emily.
"Are you serious? Girl, what are you doing here? Go hussy yourself up!" Aria put the soup down against the end table next to the couch.
Alison shrank against the cushions. She was there because it was her fault that Aria had been puking her guts out yesterday.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay." Alison replied softly.
"For the price of you dating that smoke show detective I'm the picture-perfect definition of healthy. Seriously. Go." Aria furrowed her brows, giving her a demanding look that Alison somewhat admired.
Aria was ferocious when it came to love. She was also downright scary when she was giving orders.
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Alison questioned.
The girl was still quite pale. She'd always looked like a porcelain doll, but she'd never looked breakable until now.
"Alison DiLaurentis, if you don't get your stubborn ass out of my house and into the finest make-up and dress immediately I promise you that you'll be the next person I'll be doing an autopsy on."
Alison couldn't help but laugh at the threat. She was a foot and a half taller than Aria. She couldn't imagine Aria getting the drop on her, yet at the same time…she could.
"I'll text you some pictures of my favorite outfits and you can help me choose." It was the least she could do.
"You hate my style." Aria looked at her in confusion. "Didn't you once tell me that my earrings looked like forks?"
"Just because I wouldn't pick your closet over mine doesn't mean I don't value your opinion. I could use an unbiased viewpoint." She was throwing Aria a bone.
The outfits she'd picked out for her date were all amazing. There was no wrong answer.
"Okay." Aria said in uncertainty. "But remember that I'm delusional. So my picks may not reflect popular demand."
Alison laughed as she pushed herself to her feet.
"I put your groceries away. I don't want you over-doing it. I want you back to work ASAP." Alison glanced at her friend.
Is she a friend? Alison considered her a friend. But it wasn't normal to drug your friends.
"You just miss me being a buffer between you and Spencer…"
Guilty as charged.
"Spencer loves you, Aria. The whole hospital knows it. Everyone is team Sparia."
Even Kathleen.
Fucking Kathleen.
She would deal with her soon enough.
"I swear you guys fight like you're sisters or something…" Aria was too busy tipping her soup bowl up to notice Alison stiffen at the suggestion.
Because we are.
But we're not family.
Spencer had drawn the line between them and made that perfectly clear. And maybe that line was a good thing. It would protect Spencer. It would keep her safe.
"She only gives you a hard time because she cares about you." Aria swallowed and then reached for a glass of water. "Spencer doesn't show love in the same way that you or I show love…"
Aria thought she showed love? She was a better actress than she realized.
"She's practical. Pragmatic. She works better with facts and numbers and data. Her love language is pushing others to succeed, which sometimes can come off as pushy and arrogant."
Two things Spencer Hastings DEFINITELY excels in.
"She likes people to be the best versions of themselves." Aria put her water down.
Which is why Spencer had such a problem with her. Alison's best version of herself murdered people. Spencer didn't know that, but she could obviously tell that she wasn't normal. She'd never be normal.
"I suppose." Alison smiled.
Their sordid family history certainly didn't help matters. Spencer would never understand that Mary hadn't wanted to give her up for adoption. Spencer would go to her grave hating Mary, which her aunt once told her was better than the alternative.
"I'll let you get some rest." Alison tucked the blanket around Aria's exposed foot. "Feel better." She brushed her hand against the brunette's knee. "I am so sorry you're sick."
More sorry than you'll ever know.
"I'm feeling better already." Aria took another gulp of soup into her mouth. "It was probably food poisoning. I tried this new vegan sushi and it didn't taste quite right."
It didn't taste right because of what Alison put in it. It was supposed to be undetectable, but to enhanced palates perhaps the texture alone was enough to make it seem different.
"Thanks for nursing me back to health." Aria chirped happily.
"It's the least I could do." Alison smiled.
Sincerely.
Alison made sure Aria was cozy and comfortable before she left.
She found her mind drifting to Emily on her drive home. She wanted to know where she was, what she was doing. She wanted to touch her. To smell her.
She knew she would be getting that chance later.
Unless she fucked things up.
Oh, God. What if I fuck things up?
She hadn't been on a date in a long time. Not a real date.
She was nervous. To keep those nerves at bay she started going through her kills in her head.
She'd faced down much scarier monsters than a simple date.
Maggie Reynolds. 19.
Alison had developed a bloodlust after she killed Wilden. Three months after she maimed him she attacked a new target.
She talked herself through it to calm her nerves.
She sold her two-year-old son to a known human trafficker for drugs.
Alison hadn't had to sedate Maggie. The girl had been blitzed out of her mind when she found her. She'd simply tied her up and waited for the girl's high to wear off. She'd tied tourniquets around her limbs so tight that her hands and feet started to turn purple.
She easily could have made it look like an overdose, but she wanted the challenge. She wanted her to suffer.
When the girl woke up Alison dragged a knife across her stomach, then started cutting her, shallow cuts. Like little bee stings. She'd branded her with her signature slash to the cheek. Then she injected her with enough heroin to kill her. It was laced with terrible hallucinogenic. She'd screamed and fought invisible monsters on her way out.
A few days later she tracked down the man who took Maggie's son. He still had the boy.
She killed the trafficker.
Brutally.
Then, in the cover of darkness she'd taken the child to a fire station.
The boy was eighteen now. Well adjusted. No residual pain from his childhood. He'd been lucky enough to land with a wealthy family. He was going to Harvard.
By the time she got home her mind was at ease. The blood flowing through her veins pumped her heart at a steady pace.
She checked her phone and saw a text from Emily.
Here's to hoping this date doesn't happen over a body like our first one. The only body I want to look at tonight is yours.
Followed by,
Uh…was that weird? That probably sounded weird. Can we just pretend I never said that?
Alison smiled at the message. As tough and bad-ass as Emily could be, she was really damn adorable sometimes.
Said what?
Alison followed her response up with a winking emoji. She tried not to stare at her phone and wait on a response, but it was hard to look away. She kept herself glued to it until Emily sent a reply,
I promise my game will be better tonight. Emphasized by another wink emoji.
No game necessary. You got the girl.
Screw the bases. We're going for a home-fucking-run.
Alison was more than ready to rip Emily's clothes off and have Emily do the same to her. Their playful razzing in the hospital had somehow slowly morphed into something more than just banter. There were moments that had passed between them that centered them in a different reality. The way Emily had simply held her hand after she found out about her past. The way she had brought Emily back to reality from the depths of her mind in the morgue.
I feel something for her.
Something real.
When she looked at her phone again Emily had replied,
Aww. I can't wait for us to get our awkward rom-com ending!
Alison smiled.
She knew that Emily wouldn't be finished with work for another three hours, but she started getting ready anyway.
She stripped out of her scrubs, trying not to think about the last patient she had visited.
Wilden on the operating table.
She swallowed hard. As fucked up as Darren Wilden was, he wasn't the catalyst that had screwed her up so badly.
She shuddered as she stepped into the shower.
The hot water felt soothing against her skin. She leaned forward and let the scalding stream pelt her back. She pressed her forehead against the cool tile and sighed. She knew the water should burn, but she felt numb.
The sound of the shower spray beating against the tile at her feet was rhythmic and soothing. It was a luxury that a bath couldn't provide.
She hated baths.
She squirted a generous amount of shampoo into her hands and mixed it into her hair. She dragged her fingers through the soapy mixture on her head and a flash of her childhood clouded her field of vision.
Her dolls.
What happened to that sweet little girl who liked to play with her dolls?
Perhaps she had grown up to play with more adult dolls.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She remembered bubbles. She used to love bubbles. But she hadn't loved them for a long time. Just like she hadn't loved baths for a long time.
She had been alone in the house after it happened. Their father had been so angry at Jason for hitting him that he'd left her sitting on her bedroom floor, still covered in urine. She remembered feeling really upset with herself. Because big girls didn't wet themselves. And she was a big girl.
She remembered her legs feeling irritated and sticky and gross from where the warm urine had scalded her thin delicate skin. If she had been wearing tights that day it probably would have been worse. It probably would have chaffed her more.
She remembered the embarrassment and the shame, even though later on Jason told her it was okay. That it was just an accident. She remembered thinking she'd ruined her favorite dress.
She'd hidden it, along with her panties, in the hamper, hoping her mom would just wash it and not find the clothes and get mad at her.
Her little knees were red from the rug burn she'd gotten when she was trying to crawl away from her dad.
She remembered her panicked thoughts,
Why is daddy so mad? I thought I was his little princess.
She thought the bathwater would soothe the burns, but it stung so she cried. She felt like a baby, because only babies cried.
She'd added bubbles to distract herself, but the soapy concoction just floated in the water. It felt like the sticky pee was still on her legs. She couldn't scrub it away. She remembered feeling gross and dirty.
And then angry. She felt really angry. Angry enough to hurt someone. She'd pushed the bubbles into a pile big enough to be someone's head and then she smacked them really hard, sending them flying everywhere.
There had been nothing left to do but cry. She cried so much that she thought her tears might fill the rest of the tub up.
When she was done crying she stared at the tiles on the wall. She didn't realize how long she'd been sitting in the water. It had turned so cold that she was starting to shiver.
At least, she thought she was shivering because she was cold. She didn't know she was shivering because of what her daddy had done…how he'd hurt her.
She stood up without draining the tub, her arms tucked up against her chest as she shuddered. She was all alone. Mommy was at work. Daddy could come back at any time. And Jason…she was so scared for Jason. What if he got in trouble for protecting her?
She'd reached for her Barbie towel and wrapped it around her tiny little body. She walked over to the sink and stood on the stool so she could see herself in the mirror. She didn't feel like the same girl she'd been when she was playing with her dolls earlier.
She glanced at the bubbles in her hair and then slowly met her own gaze. The girl in her reflection looking back at her was hollow.
Empty.
She had changed because of what happened. That day was the beginning of a reign of terror that would continue to destroy her innocence, despite Jason doing his best to protect her.
Alison tried to shut that day out as she let the shower beat against her skin. She tried to think of Emily, of their date.
But the darkness consumed her. She lost her grip on reality and went careening into the past again.
"Jason, put your arm around your sister." A static noise filled the air. "Good. Now, give her a little kiss on the cheek."
"Mooom."
"Alison, smile for the camera, dear."
She saw the flash of the camera, but couldn't remember what happened next.
She wasn't in her childhood living room anymore. She was somewhere dark. She could hear yelling.
"You have to learn." Her mother. Agitated. Impatient.
"I don't want to!" Jason. Angry. Upset.
"You have to. I know you're nervous, but you don't have to be. I can show you everything."
"No! She's my SISTER. And she's a kid!"
"Where is she, Jason? Where is your sister?"
"Go away!"
Alison remembered how hard she'd cupped her hands over her ears. It felt like she was in his closet for an eternity before he opened it up.
"It's okay. She's gone." He'd crawled in next to her and curled his arm around her. "I'll never hurt you, Ali. I'll never let them hurt you either."
A promise he'd kept until his dying day.
"What was mommy saying? What did she mean? What does she want you to do?" She'd looked up at him innocently.
All he could see was the vulnerable little girl he'd seen standing in the bathroom wrapped up in her Barbie towel. She'd looked like a baby standing there, staring.
She was a baby. She was a child. She had no idea what kind of monsters their parents were.
"Don't worry about it. Just trust me. I'll protect you. Always."
Alison closed her eyes and when she opened them back up again she was sitting on the shower floor, breathing heavily, arms wrapped around her knees just like when she was a child in her brother's closet.
The heat from the shower had consumed her entire body. The entire bathroom was filled with steam.
She pushed herself to her feet and turned the shower off. Then she reached for a towel and stepped out on to the bath mat. She stood there, frozen for a moment. Then she finally moved towards the sink. She wiped some of the condensation from the mirror to get a good look at herself, but caught a glimpse of her mother through a crack in Jason's closet door. It was one of the last times she'd seen her mother alive.
"They're coming tonight…" She'd sounded cold and adamant.
Jason's look of terror had scared his little sister.
"No! You can't do that to her! To…to me."
Jason had protected her when they were kids. He had laid everything out on the line for her. As she got older she never thought she'd become the victim again. Not until Darren Wilden.
After escaping her parents...after all her years of being trained not to let strange men get close to her…her entire upbringing with her aunt teaching her about the monsters in the world.
And she'd walked right up to one and let him into her life. Because she thought she knew better. She thought she was in control.
"Relax baby…"
Alison felt dizzy. She closed her eyes and opened them back up again, but all she could see was Wilden staring back at her from the mirror. It had fogged up again. She slammed her palm against the glass and wiped the condensation away again, leaving a smudged handprint.
She was finally looking at herself. The familiarity of her reflection.
Control.
She dried her hair, taking special care to curl it. It fell over her shoulders, riding down her back in long blonde waves.
She pulled out the three outfits she had picked out and texted them to Aria. The first choice was a bright yellow dress that cut off at the top of her thighs. The second was a lacy black backless number. The third was a black and royal blue dress that really complimented her eyes.
Okay, fashionista, which will it be?
Aria chose number three. Alison was pleased. It was the dress she was going to choose for herself. Then again, she could take the credit if she wanted to. She knew the yellow dress would be too bright for Aria. The black wasn't expressive enough. But the blue and black weaved a perfect tapestry together. The black clung to her skin, sleek and chic. The blue made her eyes pop.
Alison knew exactly which one Aria would choose. She knew how to get exactly what she wanted.
Five minutes later she was putting the dress on. It rode up really high on her thighs, leaving almost no room for imagination. It hugged her body tightly.
She spent nearly an hour putting on her make up. Every time she looked in the mirror she saw a shy girl who looked like she was in high school staring back at her.
It was better than seeing the monster inside.
Once she was ready she walked into the living room and patiently waited for Emily's call.
It came at 8:03.
"Hello you." Alison answered with a smile so apparent that Emily could practically hear it.
"Hey, just finished up some files. I need about half an hour to get ready. Do you have a place in mind? It's dealer's choice. Whatever you'd like." Emily suggested. "And it's my treat. No arguments."
God, she's so fucking noble.
"I have the perfect place in mind." Alison purred into the phone.
"Would you like to meet there or do you want me to come pick you up?"
Soooo fucking noble.
"I'm driving." Alison curled her fingers into her very very short dress. "No arguments." She threw Emily's words back at her.
The brunette laughed.
"Just text me your address and I'll be your chauffeur." Alison said in a proper British accent.
What the fuck? Where did that accent come from?
"Hmm, my address?" Emily had a teasing vibrato in her tone. "I don't know. How do I know you're not a stalker?"
Alison had to stifle a laugh.
She knew exactly where Emily lived. She'd watched her the night Ian's body was found. She'd seen her shadow moving around the house.
Emily was smart. She didn't leave windows and doors unlocked. She kept the shades drawn. And she always had a light on.
"Oh, I am totally going to stalk you." Alison leaned into it with a heavy dark humor of her own.
"I'll text it to you. I'm going to go get ready." Emily chuckled.
After they got off the phone Emily sent Alison her address.
Alison waited impatiently for enough time to pass. She didn't want to show up too early. She didn't want to seem desperate.
I am SO desperate.
She didn't want to show up too late. It would make her seem too blasé.
Right on time wasn't really an option either.
She decided on ten minutes late.
She had to play everything just right.
Alison DiLaurentis had never needed anyone before.
But that was before the detective had showed up at Talia's crime scene. That was before Alison had looked into her eyes in the hospital. It was before they'd touched. Before they'd kissed. Before she'd given her heart permission to flutter around inside of her. If there was one thing that Alison had determined from trying to work through her feelings it was that she needed Emily Fields in her life.
A/N: Weaving Alison's past into the story is difficult for me because of the content. I know it was a hard chapter to get through, but I can assure you that's the worst of it. It was important to me to show grooming in the light it should be shown given that there are so many impressionable young minds out there. An older man and a child is never okay. For more information about the subject and who to contact to report grooming, statutory rape, and sexual assault Google RAINN. Know the signs. Protect yourself. Protect your loved ones.
Serious topic aside, I'm hoping that you are all still with me as this story unravels. It was so much fun to write Aria/Alison. It's been a unique challenge to write the push and pull of Alison's personality. She goes from wanting to kill Alex and Kathleen to giggling like a school-girl over Emily.