Infatuation

by Forever without him

Doctor Alison DiLaurentis is sharp, a charming seductress. She is also a killer. Behind her eyes there is a darkness. Beneath her smile there are untold secrets. She thought she had everything figured out. But then Detective Emily Fields came into her life. Emily is hunting Rosewood's most notorious serial killer. She never expected to fall in love with her. DARK AU. M

13. Beauty and the Beast

A/N: There will be many...feelings...about this one. It's intense.

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Chapter 13:

Beauty and the Beast

There was a charming little diner across the street from the park. Outside it looked like an old vintage shop, but the inside décor was filled with a lot of hipster decorations. The walls were lined with splashy edgy paintings.

Alison and Emily didn't pay as much attention to the decorations as they did each other.

The detective smiled as she directed Alison to a booth, because in true hipster fashion the place was a seat-yourself kind of restaurant.

"You have lovely manners." The doctor's smile was playful, something that said "I love that you are so polite when we're in public, but I quite enjoy you in private wearing leather and handcuffs, too."

"All for show." Emily winked, kissing Alison's cheek. Her silent response, "These people have no idea how freaky we get…"

She sat down across from the blonde. She started to put her hands against the table, but realized they were still shaking, so she stopped. Her heart hadn't stopped racing since Alison surprised her in the park. It was unthinkable to her that Alison could be in danger now.

Losing one girlfriend was hard enough. Losing the blonde would shatter her. She hadn't been able to protect Maya, but she would do everything in her power to keep Alison safe.

"Em? You okay? You seem upset."

Emily didn't realize it, but she had been anxiously bouncing her knee. When she looked over at Alison she was met with a worried expression.

She'd never lied to Alison before and she wasn't going to start now.

"It bothers me that this man knows who you are." Emily reached across the table and took Alison's hand.

Alison was used to dealing with darkness and death, but she worked with a different kind of danger. She worked with the fate of someone's life in her hands, but her patients weren't in danger when she was around.

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'm more resilient than you think." She rubbed Emily's hand.

Maya thought that, too.

But Alison wasn't Maya. She had to stop beating herself up for the past. She had a wonderful girlfriend sitting right in front of her.

"That you are." Emily lifted her brow, her mind wandering to the whip the doctor had pulled out during a roleplay last weekend.

The detective kicked her shoe off and slipped her foot underneath the table, rubbing it against Alison's ankle, slowly moving it up her calf.

The thrill of the danger in the park had Alison throbbing in need. She had a hard time controlling her urges. She wanted to sink beneath the table and pull Emily's yoga pants down and let her tongue dance all over her.

She opted to scoot next to her when their food arrived. It started out with a friendly touch as they were sharing a basket of sweet potato fries.

Then Alison's hand was against Emily's inner thigh, gently squeezing.

Emily almost spit out the lemonade she was drinking.

When Alison's fingers moved towards her center Emily's knee hit the table hard enough that it would leave a bruise. Her lemonade nearly fell over.

"Damn my lanky legs," she said to keep up appearances. "Holy shit, Ali." She whispered as she kept her gaze fixed on a painting in front of them, trying not to let anyone see that her face was on fire.

"Know what I like best about this painting?" Alison kept her eyes on the artwork as she moved her fingers in slow long strides between her folds. She was wet underneath the thin spandex. "The way it screams the way it feels."

"I like it when you scream," is what she was saying.

She felt Emily shudder against her. She she stopped teasing her, though she made it a point to lick her fingers.

Emily slowly shook her head.

"You are so bad," Emily mouthed.

Emily Fields, just you wait for it...

They ate their lunch and then made their way to the parking lot. Toby had already taken the unmarked police car back to the station, which left the two of them to ride together in Alison's car.

A reflection appeared in the back windshield.

Her voice cut through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

"Detective Fields!" Alex was waving at them frantically, like if she didn't get their attention they would peel out of the parking lot and ignore her.

Alison wanted to do that anyway. Her eyes narrowed as Alex closed in.

"Stalking is illegal." Alison opened the driver's side door.

Alex couldn't see the look of vitriol the blonde was shooting at her from beneath her sunglasses.

I will not kill this journalist. I will not kill this journalist. I will not kill this journalist…

"It's a public park." Alex bit back, holding her camera up as a shield between them. "I just have a few questions for the detective." She faced Emily. "That man that you were talking to earlier…is that your top suspect in the SLK case?"

She'd been watching, lying in wait like a rattlesnake ready to strike.

Alison saw something flash across the brunette's face. A darkness. An anger she hadn't seen before. It must have been the same look Aria had seen in the coffee shop.

"Would you give it a rest?" The detective snapped. "Your wild conspiracy theories and personal narratives have done nothing but complicate this case. You keep crossing the line, Alex. You need to back off."

The plucky young journalist looked at her as if it was a challenge, as if she was asking "or what?"

Alex turned her attention to the blonde.

"Doctor DiLaurentis…" She gave her a cold look, "Are you working with the police on this case?"

"I'm not the medical examiner if that's what you're asking." Alison traced her fingers against the top of her open door. I wonder if I could get away with backing my car over her. "But you already knew that since you've been harassing my colleagues." The bite in her tone made Alex recoil the slightest bit. "I think you should know that I've spoken with my Chief and a restraining order is on the table…"

Lie.

"Accosting Dr. Montgomery was a bridge too far, Alexis." She saw Alex's jaw twitch. "If you harass any of the staff at my hospital again I'll have you arrested."

Emily lifted her brows in amusement. Were they at the point where they were finishing each other's sentences yet? It certainly felt like it.

Before Alex could argue, Emily backed the blonde up.

"I'd be happy to slap the handcuffs on, so I'd advise you to listen to her. Your little obsession has gone on way too long. Let it go. Let the professionals handle it." The brunette warned.

She took a step towards the reporter.

"You're a shark. You smell blood and you come in for the kill. But even sharks have enemies, Ms. Drake. And you've made a powerful one in me. If any of this airs, any of it…" Emily leaned forward, towering over the mousy reporter, "…you'll be very sorry you crossed me."

Emily's tone was downright threatening. Alison felt the urge to drag her in the backseat of the car and rip her clothes off.

Alex peered at both women. She lowered her camera. After a few beats of silence the disgraced reporter turned away.

That's right you little bitch. Tuck your tail and roll over like a good girl. Alison watched her go with a smug look on her face.

She was staring so intently at Alex that she didn't realize Emily was staring at her. There was a split second, a moment of panic,

Oh God, she saw the monster inside me…

But then Emily laughed softly and shook her head.

"We make a hell of a team, don't we?" Emily yanked on the door handle. "You really put the fear of God in her with that restraining order bluff."

"Me?" Alison gawked. "What about you? With your authority and handcuffs…"

Alison wanted to take those handcuffs and use them on Emily. She wanted to handcuff her to a bench, bend her over and fuck the shit out of her. She loved it when Emily aired her authority. Perhaps they should try it in their roleplay in the bedroom. The big bad detective catching the bad bad woman and handcuffing her to the bed…punishing her by making her lie still while she rammed into her with reckless abandon…

Alison climbed in the car, rushing to get in front of the air conditioner to cool down. She was so wet that it was seeping through her scrubs.

Emily paused before getting into the car. She watched as Alex climbed in her car and drove away in the opposite direction. She thought watching her go would make her feel better, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something else was going on.

She felt a strange feeling surging down her spine. There was a quiet stillness in the air, like the calm before a storm. The last time she'd had that feeling she'd been shot minutes later.

Something is wrong.

Maybe Alison was right. Maybe someone was watching them. It would be easy to wave the feeling off if she believed the person watching was Alex. She had been watching her and the others at the coffee house earlier. But she didn't hide. She had no problem strolling right up to her subjects, no matter the time of day. If she hadn't wanted them to know she was there she wouldn't have approached them.

Someone else was out there.

"What's wrong, Detective? Afraid of my driving?" Alison startled Emily out of her trance.

When Emily spun around she saw that Alison had rolled the windows down. She'd pulled her sunglasses down just enough for Emily to see the mischievous look in her eyes. She lifted her brows playfully.

"You haven't seen real driving until you've been in a cruiser with me." Emily winked as she scooted into the passenger's seat.

"Is that so?" Alison reached for her safety belt. "You'll have to take me for a ride-a-long sometime, Lady Fast and the Furious."

"Baby steps." Emily pat her on the knee, which made Alison's thoughts run wild with sexual desire. "Toby is already grumbling about you being too close to this case. We don't like it when civilians are put in jeopardy."

"Oh, I'm a civilian, am I?" Alison smirked at her.

"No," Emily said thoughtfully.

It only took Alison a second to analyze the look on her face.

She lost Maya. She's afraid something like that will happen to me.

Seconds later, Emily confirmed it with a simple statement,

"You're so much more than that." A gentle touch against her cheek. A soft kiss on her lips.

Emily could feel Alison's body buzzing beneath her touch. The brunette felt a static shock between them, a spark of electricity.

She caressed Alison's face as she pulled back. She saw Alison's eyes dart down towards the seat and when she followed her gaze she saw a small dark wet spot between her legs.

Emily smirked as she lowered her hand and laid her palm over the spot. She could feel the heat there. She gently circled her fingers around the area, slowly pressing against her.

"What are you doing?" Alison licked her lips as she watched her long lanky fingers walking up her scrub bottoms.

"Returning the favor that you paid in the diner." Emily shrugged, slipping her fingers into Alison's pants. Alison's hands shot up to the wheel, needing something to sturdy her. "Look at me and smile. Can't have authorities called on us for public indecency."

Emily took it a step further than Alison had taken it in the restaurant. Her warm fingers glided inside of her wet waiting warmth.

Alison grunted, doubling over. The danger of potentially being discovered mid-orgasm shot a thrill straight to her core.

Her pelvis moved along with Emily's motions. Her knuckles turned white as she took all of her energy out on the steering wheel.

"No one is going to see. Just lower your hands and laugh." Though they weren't commands, they felt like it. "Relax, Ali. We're just two women in a car having a conversation."

"God, you're going to kill me." Alison gritted her teeth and forced out a smile.

"Hey, look at me." Emily's free hand landed against her cheek.

Alison didn't have to be told twice. The second she looked into Emily's eyes she clenched around her fingers and groaned. Emily pulled her forward for a kiss. Alison cried into her mouth.

As soon as she relaxed Emily smoothly pulled out.

"I did not expect that." Alison laid her head against the headrest.

"And I didn't expect you to rub one out of me in the middle of a restaurant, but here we are." Emily kissed her temple.

Alison turned to her and gave her a lazy smile.

"Do you think we're addicted to each other?" It was an innocent question, but she could see that Emily was processing it with serious intent.

"We can slow down if you want to." Emily considered the fact that she hadn't been craving alcohol since she'd started having sex with Alison.

Had she simply traded one addiction for another?

"I'm fine with the pace." Alison gave her a pragmatic look. "Are you?"

"I think I've just forgotten what a normal sex life is like." Emily rubbed the back of her neck. "I haven't been in a long-term relationship since I was nineteen years old. I just don't want you to feel like some sex object or to feel like anything less than you are."

"Sex me up all you'd like, Detective. I have no problem with it." She reached for Emily's knuckles and took special care to kiss each one.

"You're sure?" Her doubt was melting away, but there was still a fraction of hesitation in her tone.

Alison let go of Emily's hand and reached out to touch her face. She dropped all pretenses.

"Emily, I don't think you're just some sex-crazed maniac who is after me simply for my body." She rubbed her thumb near the edge of Emily's lips. "I know you." She peered into her eyes. "The real you. This isn't just about the sex for me."

"It's not for me, either." Emily smiled at her, pecking her lips.

Her phone buzzed from her pocket.

"You got a secret vibrator in there?" Alison teased.

"More like clitorference." A woman's cockblock. "I'm sure that's Toby telling me to get back to the station." She reached for her phone. "We better follow orders, lest I get grounded and then we will be having much less sex."

"Well, we can't have that." Alison smiled at her as she started the car.

She drove carefully, observed every rule of the road. She was a stickler for rules. She needed Emily to see that she was a good citizen.

When they got to the station it was alive with activity. Alison and Emily both knew that Furey had probably ripped his cops a new asshole for not doing enough. The flirtatious cop who'd been patronizing Alison earlier, Macho, didn't even look their way.

Emily took Alison behind the security doors and guided her down several hallways until they reached a large office.

Toby was sitting at his desk.

Alison looked at the spacious area. The detectives were treated very well. They even had a sofa, probably for long nights.

If Alison didn't know that Toby thought of Emily like a little sister and that Emily was gay she'd feel a surge of jealousy.

Her eyes casually drifted to a large dry-erase board. It was double sided. She had seen the same kind at the hospital. On the other side there was a cork board, which was no doubt covered with theories about her…about the Scarlet Letter Killer.

"Hey, Cavanaugh." When Emily spoke, Toby looked up. She closed the office door. "Where are we with that security detail for Alison?"

Toby tapped his pen against a notepad on his desk.

"Bad news on that front." His jaw was rigid, like he'd been arguing with someone and was holding back. "Task force wouldn't go for it. Says they can't swing it because the budget is too low and there is not enough proof that Roland is our perp."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Emily's hands turned to fists at her side.

My sweet protector. Don't worry, I'm a lioness, too.

The blonde laid her palm against Emily's fist and the brunette immediately softened. She linked their fingers together.

"I don't need a detail." She smiled at the detective. "All I need is you."

"Ah, I see we're at the mushy part of this little rom-com you two are starring in." Toby cocked his head and gave Emily a snarky look.

Patronizing her, like a big brother.

God, I miss Jason.

"So, Doctor, what exactly are your intentions with our dear detective here?" Toby snorted, continuing to tease her.

Emily smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand.

He acts like he's joking, but he's not. Alison observed. She would have to be very careful around him.

"Why…to sweep her off her feet, capture her heart, and ride off into the sunset with her, of course."

No mention of wine and dine. He wouldn't like the mention of alcohol.

Toby laughed. He seemed to approve of her answer.

She always knew exactly what to say to people to get them to like her.

Alison briefly looked at Emily's desk, making sure not to linger too long. She didn't want to appear nosy.

"Your desk looks like mine." She made sure to focus on Emily and not on the paperwork.

She already knew that Toby didn't like the idea of her hearing anything about the cases they were working on.

She still wasn't quite sure what to make of Toby. Half the time she could see the softness in his baby blue eyes. The rest of the time he stared at her and acted like he had a stick up his ass.

"Does it?" Emily lifted her brows flirtatiously. "I haven't seen enough of it to compare…"

Translation: Why haven't we fucked on it yet?

"I barely use it since it's on the sixth floor. I like the on-call room better because I'm closer to the ER and closer to the general surgery suite."

It was partly true. She didn't tell Emily the other part. Her office felt empty. All her coworkers had decorations and pictures of their loved ones all over the place. She had a few scarcely laid about, but it still felt hollow.

"Plus, having the beds in there is nice." Her lips twisted into a smirk.

The on-call room at the hospital was like a tiny little apartment. A tiny little apartment where they'd first banged the shit out of each other and then proceeded to the love-making stage.

"That couch looks comfortable." She tried not to smile at her thoughts,

Would be more comfortable if we were writhing around on it.

"You should try and get some rest." Emily tenderly kissed her forehead.

"I'll try, but I sleep better when you're next to me," she whispered. She gave her a quick peck on the lips before pulling her earbuds out of her pocket and sitting down on the couch.

She needed the detectives to feel completely at ease to talk freely.

She had a plan for that.

She plugged her earbuds into her phone and pretended to pull up a music app. She laid on the couch, yawning.

Alison was well-aware that Toby would be watching her, so she closed her eyes and pretended to listen to the music that wasn't playing. She had, in fact, turned an app on her phone on that converted the receiver to a speaker that fed into the earbuds so she could hear them better.

She heard every word they were saying. She listened to the details of the serial rapist case. She learned the man's name.

Tim Roland.

She laid there for hours, pretending to be asleep, snoring softly.

At one point she saw a flash against the back of her eyelids.

Marco's hand against her inner thigh, holding pressure against the gash in her leg.

Pretend to be asleep, she'd told herself at seven years old.

She kept her breathing steady and even.

"I gotta take a fiver." Toby's voice cut through the air. "Gotta piss, and I need some air."

Alison listened to his footsteps receding. She heard Emily's chair squeak, but she didn't budge from her spot on the couch.

She felt soft fingers against her cheek.

God, she wanted to open her eyes. She wanted to look at the brunette so badly. Feathery lips were against her forehead and she almost broke. Almost.

Emily whispered in her ear,

"I'll be right back, angel. I just have to check on my moody partner. I promise you he's really not so bad. He's just a little emotional when it's his time of the month."

Alison found it hard not to crack a smile.

"Just sleep." Emily kissed her again. "You're safe here."

Alison felt something jolt her heart. Her brother's voice,

"You'll be safe in here."

She listened until Emily's footsteps were out of the room. Her eyes popped open. She knew she only had a very small window of time to learn what she needed to learn.

She carefully went through the files on the serial rapist. There were three persons of interest, but Roland seemed the most likely. Divorced father of two whose wife took his children and left.

That must have pissed you off. Being castrated like that. Does hurting women make you feel powerful?

Alison had seen it in his eyes. She just needed proof.

She scanned the files. The man they'd been looking for had abducted and raped three women. He'd been very careful about leaving behind traces of DNA. The perpetrator had used a condom in the first two cases, but he got sloppy with the third and they had a partial sample.

She quickly moved on to his victims. The MO had been different with each girl, like he was just reaching into a pool of women and grabbing a handful for his liking. It sent a shiver down her spine. But she wasn't afraid. It was a burst of excitement. How fun it would be to lure a rapist to his death.

The girls had all been struck from behind by some kind of an object. A rock or a brick. It knocked the first two girls out. But not the third one. She remembered a bag being shoved over her head. She'd fought back, but he'd overpowered her.

The first two rapes were the same. He'd bound their hands before violently assaulting them. When he was done he'd strangled them and then left them there.

The youngest, the one who had fought back, was sixteen years old. Alison felt a sour curdling sensation in her stomach.

His daughter Chloe was the same age as the last victim. It was sickening.

A child was going to have to live with the trauma of what he did to her for the rest of her life.

She looked at the young girl's photo and felt a spark of familiarity. When she saw her name she let out an audible gasp.

Jenna Marshall.

Alison had treated her for an assault over a month ago. She remembered how scared she was…how frightened she'd been when Alison had mentioned the rape kit.

Alison remembered the bruising. The tearing. She remembered the way the girl had held her nurse's hand and cried.

A broiling pit of rage clenched inside of her stomach. Mr. Roland was a menace who should not be allowed on the streets.

She glanced at Jenna's statement, which mirrored what had happened to the first two victims. But she had been able to add that he never said anything during the entire encounter.

She peered around the office, her eyes landing on the whiteboard. She wanted to know what was on the other side of it. Curiosity beckoned.

Before she could move towards it, she heard footsteps approaching. She made sure everything was exactly the way it had been before Emily and Toby left. She rushed back over to the couch and curled herself in the same position she'd been in when Emily left.

She knew by the light footsteps that it was her lover and not Detective Testosterone.

The brunette paused, looking at the sleeping doctor. Then she sat down at her desk and went back to work. A few seconds later Toby walked in.

Alison smiled to herself. She had the perfect vantage point.

She made herself comfortable in her new surroundings, like a large jungle cat surveying the land.

She knew that Emily wouldn't be letting her out of her sight for the foreseeable future. Good for their bonding…and bondage. Bad for her afterhours habits.

But having Emily with her was definitely better than having a police detail. At least with the brunette around she'd be able to relax…perhaps even keep her mind off of killing.

She smiled.

Emily looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of her. She didn't see anything but the light in her smile.

o ~ O ~ o

Two weeks. Two glorious weeks of waking up to the blonde's beautiful warm body in her bed, snuggled close, leg wrapped around her, face nuzzled beneath her chin.

Two weeks of coffee and pancakes and banter over their meals and movie nights and sex whenever they wanted.

Emily hadn't felt so comfortable – so at home in years. She could easily see her life with Alison becoming permanent.

Forever.

They were still no closer to catching Tim Roland or the Scarlet Letter Killer. The waiting game was always hard. It was a bitter pill to swallow. But Alison made it more palatable.

The blonde had stirred something inside of her to life. She'd certainly never been a cozy little homemaker. That was usually her mom's territory. But Emily discovered that she liked making meals for the two of them, not because of the meal itself, but because of the moments they had together. Normal moments when she wasn't thinking about baby-killers and creepy molesters and murderers.

Her kitchen was getting more use now than it had in a long time. Her cooking lessons with her grandmother had paid off.

Emily laid four strips of bacon in a pan and it gave off a satisfying sizzle. She watched as it shriveled and turned brown over the course of a few minutes and then she flipped it over.

Alison yawned and sauntered into the kitchen in a nightgown that was way too short for her. She'd worn it on purpose, because it turned Emily on. She liked it when the brunette grabbed her ass. In fact, she practically shoved it in her face to get her to do it.

She'd been staying at Emily's house the past few days. It had a quaint homey feel to it.

"Morning, Sleepyhead." Emily turned from the stove, gripping the frying pan.

The smell of meat and eggs permeated the air.

"Smells good." Alison curiously walked up behind her, trying to sneak a peek.

"It's my grandmother's secret recipe." Emily effortlessly shifted between the frying pan with the bacon and the one next to it. There was an omelet fluffed up and folded in half. It had a mixture of ingredients that Alison could see and smell. Bell peppers. Cubed Ham. Cheese. Something green and leafy.

"What's the secret ingredient?" Alison trailed a single finger up Emily's arm.

"If I told you that I'd have to kill you." She winked, like a covert agent.

"Come on. Not even a little hint?" The blonde pushed her lips out in a pout.

Emily could never say no to the puppy-dog face.

"You always know how to break me. Stick me in an interrogation room with you for sixty seconds and I'd confess to a crime in ten." She chuckled. "Chili powder and a dash of garlic."

"That sounds amazing."

Emily moved her skilled hand and Alison watched as the omelet slipped against the edge of the pan. The detective wiggled the pan and lifted it up, flipping the omelet over.

"Wow." Alison smiled. "I had no idea I was dating Martha Stewart."

"Minus the jail time." Emily shrugged, but then added with a sly smile. "Though there was that one time…"

Alison couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

"Emily Fields, you better tell me!"

Emily chuckled, grinning at her girl. She knew Alison would take the bait.

"I was in high school. A bunch of my friends and I slipped into a water park after hours. I had a friend, Hanna, who worked there. Her mother made her get a summer job. She…rebelled."

Rebelled was putting it mildly. Hanna didn't do anything half-assed. She was constantly getting in to trouble with the blonde.

Alison didn't consider that this Hanna was the same blonde Emily had been having coffee with a few weeks ago. The past often felt distant to her. She wasn't connected to many people from her past, not by choice anyway. She was always curious to hear about Emily's.

"One thing led to another. We got a little tipsy, played truth or dare…" Emily lowered the heat on the stove to cut down on the flying bacon grease popping out of the pan. "We ended up going skinny dipping…"

"Bad girl." Alison poked her ribs. Very bad girl…

Emily smiled.

"One of the girls came back from the bathroom screaming about cops being at the front gate. There was a bunch of noise and we all took off running." She laughed. "I'd never been more terrified in my life. The police were chasing us, we were butt naked, we were trespassing, and all I could think about was how much shit I'd get from my mom if I got caught."

She had sowed her fair share of wild oats. She'd been a good Christian military brat throughout her childhood, but all that repression built up by the time she was a teenager. She'd been shy and stayed in her own lane for the most part…until she met Maya. But Hanna had a way of bringing her out of her shell.

"So what happened?" Alison leaned forward, her chin on Emily's shoulder.

"Hanna dragged us into the building where they stored rafts and floats. I took a flying leap into a stack of large innertubes. We were there for almost two hours. I couldn't get the smell of float rubber off me for a fuckin' week."

Alison burst into laughter. She pictured Emily diving into a pile of innertubes, bare ass in the air, squirming around and moving to poke her head out before dipping back down into her hiding place…like a carnival game of whack-a-mole.

"We were lucky the cameras weren't on."

Alison laughed harder.

"I'd pay good money to see it." Alison smiled.

"I'm sure you would…"

Emily dumped the omelet on to a plate that had a fruit spread. Then she used tongs to pick up two slices of bacon. She handed it to Alison before making her own plate.

"You really didn't have to do all this, Em." Alison sat down.

There was a hot pot of coffee sitting on a pad in the center of the table.

"I don't mind." Emily reached for the coffee and poured them each a mug. "I know you have a long day ahead of you. And I couldn't sleep last night anyway."

She rubbed her eyes. Alison finally saw it in the lighting. There were sunken circles under her eyelids.

"Nightmares?" Her brows furrowed in concern.

"No." Emily shook her head. "Just work stuff."

"Oh." Me stuff.

She was causing Emily strife. She didn't like it.

"How are the cases coming along?" Alison questioned, reaching for a slice of bacon.

"We bounce back and forth between the serial rapist and the serial killer." There was an edge of sarcasm in her tone. "Fun."

The brunette stabbed her knife into her omelet and used her fork to help cut off a sizeable chunk. She didn't offer anything more about the cases, and Alison didn't ask. She knew she could just eavesdrop when she went to the station later.

In a way, waiting to exact her vengeance on Tim Roland would serve her well. The more time that passed between her run-in with him, the better. She wisely chose to stay on the straight and narrow path while Emily continued her daily jogs in the park.

Emily and Toby were establishing a routine. That's how most serial criminals chose their victims…by learning their routines. The detectives were assuming that sooner or later Tom Roland would try to break that routine. They would be ready with cuffs when he did.

Alison had to contain her rage at the thought of Emily putting herself in that kind of danger...a danger that they would soon find out was more unpredictable than they could have ever imagined.

"What time is your last surgery?" Emily drew Alison out of her thoughts.

Alison looked across the table to witness Emily taking a bite of her omelet.

"It's supposed to be at six, but you know how it goes. If all goes according to plan I should be at the station by eight. Maybe."

"I'll be at the hospital to pick you up at seven."

Alison knew better than to argue. It wouldn't be wise to throw a fit. Instead, she played into the cheeky side of her situation.

"I should pay you for all the gas money you're saving me."

"You do." Emily shrugged. "In sex."

Alison grinned at her. She used her fork to cut through a smooth portion of her omelet and scooped a bite into her mouth. The minute the flavor hit her tongue her taste buds danced in delight.

"Oh my God." She marveled. She sank down into her chair and tilted her head as her eyes rolled back in satisfaction. "This is quite possibly the best thing I've ever tasted."

The next few minutes was just the sounds of utensils scraping against the plates, the crunch of bacon being bitten into, and the sucking down of coffee.

They ate their breakfast, trading a few quips, and then they finished up their morning routine with a quickie romp in the shower.

Emily drove Alison to work and walked her inside. Kathleen scowled like she always scowled. Emily grinned and waved at her. Annoying Kathleen was her favorite part of the day.

When the detective arrived at the station she was ready for the day's events. She had her jogging attire ready.

She did her run through at the park. Tim was there, but he wasn't overly invested. He'd figured out what Emily was doing, so he was changing his routine…adapting. She'd never see him coming.

The early morning exercise cleared Emily's mind. She was always ready to work when they got back to the station.

After she cleaned herself up and plopped down in her chair Toby peered over at her.

"I had a thought about the SLK case last night." He flipped open a folder.

"Lay it on me, big guy."

Toby looked at her incredulously.

"Can I say 'that's what she said' or would you report me for harassment?"

"Permission granted." Emily shrugged.

"That's what she said." He looked like a ten-year-old boy when he giggled.

"Awesome. Now that you got that out of the way why don't you use that one brain cell you've got left and tell me what you came up with?" She sipped on her lukewarm coffee, making a face at it like it had offended her.

"So…we've been working under the assumption that our killer is targeting people who have committed crimes, at least the ones with this new signature. Right now the only one we can't place as a criminal is Talia, but that might just be because we haven't looked hard enough. It's probably buried deep if it's there."

"My turn to say 'that's what she said'." Emily stood up and walked over to the microwave. She popped the door open and then shut it and nuked the coffee.

"Touche." Toby smiled, a look of pride on his face. "We haven't been able to find crimes associated with previous kills before this new cycle. So maybe…Occam's Razor."

The microwave dinged and Emily pulled her cup out.

"The simplest explanation is the right one." Emily was familiar with the term Occam's Razor. It meant that in a world where you were looking for the most outlandish explanations, it was usually the easiest one.

"Right." He nodded. "What if this is an entirely new cycle?"

"Hmm…" Emily stirred her drink and sat down at her desk. "New cycle, new victim selection?" She put the warm mug down and thought about it for a second. "Interesting. But do we think the others might have been criminals?"

"Possibly. If they were that still works with my theory." Toby rolled his chair towards her. "The question is how the killer knows about their crimes. Especially since these people weren't in the database."

"I think I see where you're going…"

"I'm not leaning into it being someone with law enforcement training, but I'm not ruling it out either."

It was a curious theory. They'd seen their fair share of criminals walk for the dumbest reasons. And they'd all had suspects they knew were guilty, but couldn't get evidence on them. It haunted the good cops…sometimes to extremes.

"It may look like a cop on paper, but I think it's more likely that this person is someone others trust. Someone these people would tell their secrets to." Toby drew a line connecting the victims' names.

"I highly doubt pedophiles and murderers told anyone what they were doing." Emily didn't want to be jaded, but she was.

"You'd be surprised what people might confess to. Heavy on confess…but not to law enforcement."

Emily let the words sink in.

"Are you talking about religion?" She cocked her head.

"Bingo." He snapped his fingers like she'd gotten a question right on trivia night. "Religion is the single bloodiest historical text of our times. Children dying. Brothers killing each other. The crusades."

"But…a priest?" Emily's gut told her otherwise, but she needed to hear Toby out. They were partners after all. And they needed to bounce ideas off of each other.

"Some form of vengeful clergy who fancies himself…" He paused and added, "…or herself…" for Emily's benefit, "…a God. Think about it. The kills have implied religious intent and none of the victims have been raped. The posing is for show. A confession of their sins. It's about justice. You said so yourself. And it fits the profile. A loner. Someone local. Someone who blends in. Someone people trust. Priesthood is a chosen profession for life. It could very well be how the victims are subsequently being chosen…by confessing to someone they trust. It could explain how they're being subdued so easily. Maybe our perp tells the victim that they'll absolve them of their sins…"

Emily felt a sick repulsion at the thought of heinous crimes being forgiven in any sense. That was one of the reasons why she'd turned away from religion. Not only had she experienced the pain of bigotry from people who used the Bible for hatred, but she'd seen too much horror to ever believe there was a higher power…much less a higher power who would forgive and allow murderers and rapists and pedophiles into a Heaven with their victims.

She didn't have the heart to tell him she didn't buy into it. But she knew they needed to follow up on every angle. It wasn't an angle that she could see, but oftentimes that's how they cracked cases. Being open-minded.

So they delved into their research for the day, going over statements from friends and family of the victims. It wasn't hard to connect a few of the victims to the largest church in Rosewood.

Emily kept an eye on the time as the hours passed. She was diligent about checking in on Alison. She didn't want to be overbearing or controlling, but she wanted to keep her safe. It was a fine line to walk.

At six thirty she pushed her chair away from her desk.

"Keep at the grind, Cavanaugh." She reached for her keys. "I'm off to get the lovely girl I'm guarding."

Toby smiled at her and tipped an imaginary cap.

"If you're gone for more than an hour I'll assume the worst and send the entire precinct after you. Make sure you're not in a precarious position when they find you." He winked.

She shot him a smarmy look and then flipped her middle finger up at him with a loving smile on her face.

She texted Alison that she was on her way. She wasn't surprised when she didn't get a response. She knew she was still in surgery. Or with a recovering patient.

She had predicted that Alison wouldn't be done with work, so she plopped down in the waiting room when she got there.

Kathleen frowned at her. For a moment Emily thought she might come over and tell her that the waiting room was specifically for patients and family members of patients. But she didn't.

She really is Mrs. Personality, isn't she? Her thoughts about the woman had turned cynical over the months.

Emily busied herself in some of her work notes while she waited on Alison, so she had her nose buried in her phone when the blonde finally walked out in the waiting area.

The second Alison saw her she felt lighter. When Emily looked up and smiled at her all she could think was, "this is the best part of my day." That feeling used to be something she reserved for her kills.

"Where to, mi'lady?" Emily gave her a playful bow.

"If I had my way, to the boudoir. But…to the station, I suppose." She sighed, showing her disappointment with the lack of sex.

"You would be right indeed."

It was tempting to pull the car over for a quickie on the way back, but Emily had important work to do and she was focused on it.

When they got to the station they walked straight back to Emily's office. Alison had become a regular there. She was greeted with a,

"Hey there, Blondie," by Toby.

"That's Doctor Blondie to you." Alison played into his hand with the jab, even though what she really wanted to do was grab his handgun and shoot his nuts off.

Sometimes despite Emily's presence she was cranky and over-eager for a kill. It was getting harder to keep her violent thoughts at bay.

"Oh, Barbie has a little backbone." He clamped his teeth together like he was an animal playfully biting down on something.

A big dumb mutt with a chew toy. Just like Marco, but with less grace.

It's how she had to picture people sometimes.

Because I don't kill dogs.

He was annoying, but he was harmless.

"Cavanaugh, if you keep giving my girl shit I'm going to shoot your nutsac off." Emily scowled at him.

Alison grinned. She loved that they were on the same wavelength.

Even our threats are in sync.

"Sorry. It's how I show love, because I don't know how normal people do it." He gave her a dopey smile. "I'm damaged. You'll have to forgive my simplistic male mind."

"All is forgiven." Nothing is forgiven. I'll tag you back, Detective Eyebrows.

"I've got some notes I need to listen to before I transcribe them. You mind if I just crash here on the couch?" Alison turned to face Emily.

She already knew the detective would say yes, but she asked to be polite.

"Knock yourself out."

Alison smiled as she pulled her earphones out. She turned the microphone app on and plugged her earbuds in.

All she had to do was wait for them to start talking.

It didn't take long.

They started with a debriefing on Tim Roland and then shifted gears and started looking through the Scarlet Letter Killer case.

"I know you're skeptical, but I really do think that we're looking for someone older." Toby offered. "With the time difference between Wilden's kill and these most recent murders it would have to be someone…late forties at the least. Maybe even mid-fifties."

Alison had to suppress a smile.

Oh my…how the puppies are chasing their tails.

"This person is way too confident to be young." Toby scribbled something in a file.

"Young people are cocky little shits." Emily countered.

The blonde stifled a laugh. She closed her eyes and pretended to be focused on her fake medical notes.

"True. But youngsters also slip up more. Wilden's kill scene was immaculate. Not a trace of evidence. That's no beginner."

Quite the compliment. Thank you, Deputy Doofus.

She listened to them going back and forth for nearly an hour, but didn't really learn anything substantial about her case. Nothing that she didn't already know. She felt good about being in the loop. They had no idea that they'd let the devil into their playground.

"I really think the lead we have is one worth following."

Lead? Alison perked up, eyes still closed to give the illusion that she'd fallen asleep to the sound of her own voice.

Before Toby could elaborate, Alison's phone jingled loudly. It startled her so much she almost fell off of the couch. It worked out in her favor because to Emily and Toby it looked like she'd been roused from a deep slumber.

Alison opened her eyes in a sleepy motion. She pretended to be disoriented for a few seconds, like she didn't realize where she was or that her phone was ringing.

"How long have I been out?" Alison sat up, staring at the screen on her phone.

It was Spencer.

She frowned. Spencer never called her.

"Almost two hours." Emily glanced at the clock. It was almost ten.

Alison looked at her phone again, opting to pick it up. She'd look like an asshole if she didn't.

"Doctor Hastings." She yawned for dramatic effect. "What can I help you with?"

"Oh Alison, thank God you picked up. I'm so sorry. I know you had the overnight the night before last, but I can't get in touch with anyone else and I didn't know who else to call, and I…" Spencer was talking so fast she was barely breathing.

Alison's spine straightened. She sensed panic. And Spencer didn't panic.

"Spencer, what's wrong?"

There was a heavy breath on the line.

"It's my sister." Her older sister Melissa was a lawyer at a firm just outside of Rosewood.

"Is she okay?" She was surprised to find that she didn't have to fake her concern.

"She was in a wreck. She's here. I'm supposed to operate on a patient, but I…I don't think I can." Spencer Hastings was admitting that she couldn't do something. It was huge. "Alison, she lost the baby."

"Oh, shit."

Melissa was five months pregnant. She'd been trying with her husband for a long time. She was probably inconsolable.

"Can you…"

Before Spencer could finish her statement Alison replied,

"I'll be there. Do you need me now?"

"Yeah." Her voice was strained. "Kid is already being prepped. It's a simple appendectomy."

"I can handle it." Alison assured her.

"You wouldn't need to stay the whole night. Dr. Kingston will be in at two…"

Don't hammer out the details. Just go be with your sister. Be there for her like Jason was there for me…

"I've got this. Just go take care of Melissa."

When she hung up the phone she saw Toby and Emily facing her in concern.

"Is everything okay?" Emily was on her feet and next to Alison before the blonde had a chance to blink.

"Uh…no. Spencer's sister was in a car wreck." Alison stared at her phone.

Was she feeling something? What was happening to her?

"Melissa?" Toby was on his feet now, too.

"How do you know Melissa?" Alison questioned.

"We went to high school together. She tutored me." Toby rubbed the space between his upper lip and his nose. "She was really nice to me." He cocked his head. "I didn't realize you worked with her little sister." A tiny spark of something glimmered in his eyes. "Spencer joined us sometimes. She liked to correct Melissa in her lessons."

Emily thought she recognized something on his face. A softness.

A fondness maybe?

"Spencer is a bit of a mess." Alison didn't have time to entertain Toby's dancing dick. She was trying to figure out why she was suddenly letting emotions cloud her judgment. She was trying to figure out why she cared. "Melissa, she um…" Alison bounced her knee nervously. "She was pregnant. And…the baby didn't make it."

"Jesus. That's awful." Emily put her arm around Alison.

"I'm afraid I'll have to take a raincheck on dinner tonight. I've got to cover one of her patients."

An appendectomy was a piece of cake. She could do it in her sleep. Yet, she was distracted. How was Melissa doing? Was Spencer okay? What about Veronica? Chief Hastings had lost a grandchild.

"I'll get my keys. We'll get there faster in a cruiser." Emily faced Toby. "I'm going to stay at the hospital if that's okay. Just in case…"

"Yeah. Go." Toby practically rushed them out the door. "I'll talk to Furey. We're fine here."

Minutes later Emily and Alison were on the road. Emily used the siren to get her there faster. Cars pulled over to let them pass. It was such a powerful tool to have. Alison liked it.

The blonde was silent the entire way to the hospital. Emily assumed it was because she was reeling from the news about Melissa.

In reality, Alison was thinking about the man she'd been dreaming of killing for two weeks. It's how she focused in stressful times. She started mapping out plans for him. Where she'd do it. How she'd do it. How she'd pose him.

There was also the baby killer that also needed to be dealt with, but Sara Harvey would have to wait her turn. Tim Roland was a direct threat to her woman.

The plans in her head were slowly coming to light.

Unfortunately, she didn't realize that Tim had plans of his own. All he'd been waiting on was a break in their routine.

Alison had let her guard down at the park when she showed up in scrubs. He'd taken notice of her. He'd watched as the blonde rubbed against her girlfriend in that stupid little restaurant.

He'd seen her disappear into the station with the brunette. He'd been watching them for weeks.

The cop was trying to bait him…to entrap him. To set him up. But he was too smart for that. He'd been sitting out at the park, teasing them…making them think they knew his next move.

But they had no idea.

The detective wore a tight little number at the park that made him spring to attention every time, but his anger superseded his hormones. He didn't like it that the pigs in Rosewood were trying to set him up.

The doctor clearly meant something to the detective. So he'd found an ambulance that wasn't in use and he'd stolen it. He wanted to keep his eyes on the hospital.

Who would question an ambulance parked in the hospital?

That fucking cop needed to pay. And he knew the perfect way to send her a message.

Alison and Emily were so busy racing into the hospital that they didn't see the stolen ambulance parked off to the side of the building.

As Alison scrubbed up and prepared for the procedure Emily paced in the waiting room.

The feeling of unease was back.

Something is wrong.

The detective had gotten accustomed to the hospital, but sometimes she felt the chill in the air. The omnipresence of death.

She saw a little girl sitting with a man she bore a striking resemblance to. Her dad.

It wasn't until Emily sat down that she realized she was sitting in the same exact chair she'd been in the night she found out about her father's death.

She hadn't expected to end up at the hospital that night, but minutes after they got the news they were in an ambulance speeding towards the emergency room.

o ~ O ~ o

~ Then ~

The news of Wayne's death had been cataclysmic for Pam. When the uniformed officers showed up with his death notification the scream that ripped out of the older woman's throat rattled her daughter to the core.

One minute Pam had been a lump on her front porch sobbing in Emily's arms. The next minute her breathing was ragged. When Emily pulled back she saw her face turning grey as she slumped against her, unconscious.

Emily screamed for help even though the decorated officers were already helping. One was gently laying Pam out on the ground and the other was dialing 911.

The true panic didn't set in until they got to the hospital.

Emily was certain she was going to lose her mother, too.

They'd been at odds with one another for years, but she was still her mother. And the idea of flying through life without a net was terrifying.

Her brain felt over-oxygenated, compared to her mother's low oxygen levels. The feeling made her sick to her stomach.

The officers had come with her, but she pulled away from them. She didn't need to see the uniform her father wore…

Used to wear.

It was a staggering moment to realize he'd never wear it again, at least not while he was alive.

The waiting area started closing in on her. Her brain was a shattered image reflecting fractals of pain back at her.

Numbness cloaked her, bathed her, bonded with her DNA. She was past the point of pain. All she felt was grief. The overwhelming sadness shocked her senses, sending a chill down to her bones.

But she couldn't let it out. It stayed caged inside, suppressed. She had to be strong for her mom. She knew the second she let the beast out of its cage it would be impossible to contain.

A strong disconnect settled over her. She was standing in the middle of a hurricane on a beach by herself, a seashell held up to her ear. It roared quietly, but then built into an overwhelming howl. A large wave looming above her came crashing down.

Is this shock?

It felt like days…the minutes measured in hours. When the doctor finally came out to talk to her and tell her that her mother was stable all Emily could do was manage a silent nod.

She informed the officers that everything was okay and dismissed them, as if her detective shield made her responsible for their orders.

Once they left, Emily didn't go sit with her mother like a good daughter should have. Instead, she wandered outside.

The scream that had been building inside of her since the moment she saw the men in uniform on her mother's doorstep continued to burn her lungs.

If grief could be measured in rainwater it would have filled an ocean. A well had been dug into her soul and it was flowing with dark murky water.

It sparked a thought she didn't want to have, but couldn't fight.

Her feet carried her as the scream scratched at her lungs. She wasn't sure where she was going until she got there.

She stared through the bar's window, which was partially occluded by decals of liquors and beers.

If ever there was a time to drink…

But it wouldn't numb her pain. It wouldn't bring her dad back.

Maybe I can just go to him instead.

She knew all the wrong people. All she needed was the right mixture of drugs and her poison of choice. Or she could walk into a drug bust and let the dealers do the deed.

Stop it. Stop thinking like that.

But the thoughts were swirling too fast for her to process. The dizziness was overpowering. The lights in front of the bar were too much, so she stumbled towards an alley.

That's where she collapsed…against a dumpster.

Appropriate symbolism given the giant dumpster fire that is my life.

She buried her head between her knees, her stomach curdling. The scream was in her head now. It was loud.

Just one drink.

"No." A whisper.

You need it. Dad would understand.

"No…" She muttered to herself.

Toast to him. One shot…

"No!" She clutched her temples and cried. She was aware she looked like an insane homeless person.

Fuck sobriety. Drink until you can't feel anything anymore…

The cries of her grief were ripping her to pieces inside. Her lungs had exploded. Her head was on fire.

She gagged and was certain she was going to vomit, but nothing came up. She could taste her mother's meatloaf on her breath.

She reached into her pocket, her hands trembling so much that she could barely hold her phone. She hit her speed dial.

He picked up on the third ring.

Before he could say a word Emily let out a breathy cry into the phone,

"Toby, I need help."

He was there twenty minutes later, hauling her off of the curb.

She didn't realize she'd been huddled over and sobbing. She couldn't breathe.

All he'd been able to get out of her was that her mother was at the hospital.

He shoved her in the car and took her back to the hospital.

As soon as he parked, her lungs started to build up a scream more powerful than the last.

"Are you drunk?" His face was placid, but his eyes were fierce and cold.

"No." She stared at his dashboard, fighting the building pressure inside of her body.

Toby cocked his head. There was a sense of familiarity about this, but he couldn't piece together that the last time he'd seen her fall apart this badly was the night she found Maya's body.

"Then do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"My dad is dead." She stared out the windshield. Her voice was dull and emotionless.

She'd said it. It was real.

Toby took in a heavy gasp of air and let it out in an uneven gasp.

"Jesus Christ, Emily, why didn't you call me?"

She turned to him and answered simply,

"I did." She blinked, but there was no emotion behind her eyes.

Sometimes when the pain was too great the human psyche had a way of blocking it out.

"Did you drive here?"

"No. We came in an ambulance. My mom passed out. Her…" She shut her eyes and struggled to breathe again, "Her lips were turning blue. I thought I was going to lose her, too."

She could feel the monster clawing inside of her. The pain, the grief. This time, the scream escaped and there was no way to stop it.

She scrambled out of the car so Toby wouldn't get hit with the shrapnel. Her knees hit the pavement as she caught herself with her hands, gravel digging into her palms.

The noise that came out of her was the sound an animal made in the wild when it was dying. It was loss and pain and anger. It was fury and raw animalistic rage.

"My dad is dead. He's dead! Oh, God…" She wailed, completely unaware that Toby had dropped down next to her and was pulling her into his arms.

"Emily…Em, I've got you." He rocked her back and forth. He tipped her chin up and forced her to look at him…forced that humanity in her to keep her grounded. "I'm here for you."

Emily choked on her sobs as she nodded, tears streaming down her face. In that moment, in her weakest…when she was at her lowest…when she didn't want anyone to see her break down she let Toby be there for her.

She let him carry her into the emergency room. She let him hold her in his arms as she settled. He went back with her when she went to see her mom.

He only left when mother and daughter made eye contact for the first time and the shared grief became a private moment between them.

o ~ O ~ o

Her mother had been treated for shock that night, but Emily's shock had never gone away. Not for Maya. Not for her dad. The pain of loss never truly dissipated. Sometimes it was a strange kind of clarity. It wasn't a dull ache or a quiet fuzzy noise in the background. It was loud and it was angry. It was a wound ripped open, all nerve endings and fire. A blackness that engulfed her soul. It would sweep over her at the strangest times.

The people she loved kept dying. And she couldn't do a fucking thing about it.

She would be damned if she let anything happen to that woman in the operating room.

Emily rubbed her palms against her pants until they were red and painful. She looked up and saw the mean cold eyes of Kathleen, forever judging her.

Just say you hate dykes and get it the fuck over with. Emily's glance back at the woman dared.

Sometimes Emily felt like fucking Alison on Kathleen's desk.

Kathleen subconsciously reached for her cross and grabbed her rosary, rubbing the beads between her fingers.

Piece of shit homophobe. You want to fucking fight? I'll fight you.

She exhaled a deep breath.

Picking fights with grumpy old ladies? I have got to chill.

She leaned her head back against the wall and waited for Alison.

The surgery took about forty minutes. When Alison walked out and saw Emily she couldn't help but smile. It was an involuntary reflex, but an involuntary reflex that she quite liked.

"Hey." She touched Emily's arm. "I just need to get him out of recovery, and then we can head out."

"So, he's going to pull through?" Emily asked, her voice tired. The wave of the past had taken a lot out of her.

"He'll be fine." Alison nodded. "Would you mind getting us something to eat? I felt a bit lightheaded in surgery. I don't think I've eaten enough today."

"Anything you want." Emily's large palm grazed the side of her neck.

"I could really go for something from the bistro." Alison straightened the collar of Emily's work blouse.

"The one that's six miles away?" Emily bit her lip. She'd been hoping for something from the cafeteria.

"Emily, I'll be fine. I have my patient to look after. Go get us some food."

Emily was on the phone as she was walking out the door to the cruiser, calling in the order.

A pair of eyes watched her go.

A break in the routine.

Alison went back to the recovery area to find that her patient was already starting to come out of the anesthesia. She sat with him for fifteen minutes before he was ready to be moved into a regular room.

She signed the orders on his paperwork and then walked back towards the front desk area. She knew Emily would be back any minute.

Instead of the brunette, she found Kathleen's resting bitch face. She waved Alison over and then shoved a post-it note in the air.

Rude.

"What's this?" Alison skimmed the message.

"Father of the patient. He said something about belongings in one of the parked rigs." Kathleen shrugged her shoulders, but refused to look up at her.

It drove Alison mad the way that the woman demanded things from her.

Look at me, you fucking bitch! Alison wanted to scream. I am your superior! And why aren't you dead yet? Your fucking heart should have exploded a week ago.

She took a breath.

Kathleen's time would come soon enough. The bitch's heart was tougher than Alison had given it credit for. She couldn't wait for the woman to drop dead. But she wasn't going to force it. It had to seem natural.

"Thanks." Alison crumbled the note and threw it in the trash. Thanks for nothing.

She muttered angrily to herself as she walked towards the ambulance bay. There were three parked rigs all in a row.

The first one didn't have anything in it. She rounded the corner to the second one. Just as she was reaching for the door, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her front scrub pocket. It was Emily.

Be there with dinner in a few minutes. I'll go stealth mode so Kathleen doesn't see me.

Alison was getting ready to type out her reply when she heard something creaking in the rig. She snapped her head up, but it was too late.

The back door to the ambulance was flung open, the cold hard metal striking her hard in the face. Her vision flashed white as she started to stumble back. Before she could fall, a pair of large gloved hands knotted into her scrub top, ripping one of the pockets. Alison dropped her phone and it skidded across the pavement.

The person yanked her inside the ambulance and closed the door behind her. He slammed his hand over her mouth.

She saw a flash of her father's hand coming towards her.

She saw Wilden, crushing her.

When she tried to fight back he wrapped his other hand around her throat and started choking her.

Her vision went dark, but not because she was losing consciousness.

o ~ O ~ o

~ Then ~

She was seven years old, tiptoeing down the hallway in her childhood home. She heard a creaking sound.

A hand shot out of the darkness and another hand slipped over her mouth. She wanted to scream, but she froze as she was yanked out of the hallway and into a dark room.

"Don't scream." There was a moment of tension, followed by, "It's me."

Jason.

He let her go.

"You have to be careful, Ali."

"I was just going to get some juice." Her bottom lip trembled. "You were asleep."

"Wake me next time." He took her hand. "Never ever walk around here alone at night."

"Why?"

Deep down she knew why. She didn't understand it, but she knew her parents were bad people, and they associated with bad people.

"Come on, let's get you that juice and then I'll take you back to bed and read you a story." He tugged on her hand, trying to change the subject.

"Jason…" She stopped moving, her feet frozen in place. When he looked back at her he saw the tears in her eyes. "I'm scared." She reached forward and gripped the edge of his shirt, pulling it up before he could stop her, revealing the angry brown splotches that had been purple days ago. "They hurt you."

"Yeah." He smoothed his shirt down over his stomach, letting out a sigh. "But trust me, it's better than the alternative."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm getting you out of this house as soon as I can."

"What happens if you can't protect me anymore?"

Jason didn't have an answer.

o ~ O ~ o

She was back in the ambulance. And she couldn't breathe. He had his hand off of her throat and against her scrubs. She screamed into his palm as he grasped at the waistband of her scrub bottoms.

Adrenaline surged through her. She sank her teeth into the gloved hand, hard enough that he felt it. He shifted his weight, stumbling a bit.

Alison felt around until her hands landed on a metal first aid kit. She grabbed it and slammed it against the side of his head. When she did, the mask he was wearing slipped and she caught a glimpse of him.

Tim.

This wasn't his usual MO. He usually attacked women out in the woods. He was escalating. And getting careless. He had no idea who he'd just attacked.

He was still on top of her. He still had the advantage. He pinned her hands to the rig's floor and she struggled, screaming at the top of her lungs, blood draining down the back of her throat.

When he let go of one of her hands to cover her mouth she reached for a small shiny object she'd seen slide out of the first aid kit. An unused scalpel. She drew her hand back and sank it into the side of his thick burly neck. The mask caught the brunt of it, but she saw blood trickling out. He stumbled backwards, hitting the door hard. His arm caught the latch release and he tumbled out of the ambulance on to his ass.

"Hey! What's going on out there?"

Aria. My favorite little morbid mortician.

Aria saw a man booking it from the back of the ambulance. She assumed he was trying to steal supplies.

As she was pacing towards the rig Emily's car came around the corner from the opposite direction.

She saw what Aria didn't see.

Alison, bleeding in the back of the ambulance.

As the blonde stumbled towards her freedom Emily whipped her car towards the rig. She parked, slinging the door open, not even bothering to shut the car off. She reached for her weapon, almost an unconscious gesture, but the man dipped behind a wall. For half a second Emily thought of chasing him.

Aria beat her to it. She turned towards the fleeing suspect when she saw Alison's bloodied face. Her eyes were full of rage.

"Hey! Get back here!" She turned on her heels and was flying on her feet towards the attacker.

Somewhere deep in the confines of Alison's mind she was thinking of the danger,

No, Aria, it's not safe. He'll hurt you.

But Aria didn't hear her, because she didn't say it out loud.

"I said stop you son of a bitch!" Her growl was one of a dangerous pixie of a woman.

A strange giggle tumbled through Alison's cracked lips.

Aria hates confrontation. But she's chasing down a rapist.

It didn't make sense, but it also did make sense.

Heat of the moment?

Her head hurt.

Emily caught a glimpse of Aria darting after him as she bounded towards the ambulance. As she got closer she saw the blood pouring out of her girlfriend's nose and trickling down her face from a gash in her head. There were angry purple welts forming on her neck. Her scrubs were messy, ripped, and disheveled.

She raced to her side just as Aria met her from the other end.

"I tried to cut him off, but the bastard is fast." The shorter girl was out of breath.

Aria ran track in high school, didn't she? He must be faster than I originally thought. Alison thought to herself.

"What the hell happened?" Aria gasped when she saw her friend.

Karma, I suppose, Alison's thoughts were jumbled. A killer coming for a killer.

Alison tried to step down from the bumper, but stumbled.

Emily was there to catch her.

"Is she okay?" Aria's voice sounded so far away. And so scared.

"Oh, Alison…" Emily gently touched her face. "What happened?"

"The door…" was all Alison could manage to get out. It hit me in the fucking face.

"I'll go get a gurney." Aria raced back towards the ER.

The blonde's head was spinning.

HE attacked ME? That's not right. I'm the one who attacks him.

Her body felt like gelatin, jiggling, soft…like someone could just poke her and the entire structure would crumble.

She was vaguely aware of Emily's soft hands on her cheeks. She was saying something, but all Alison could hear was ringing in her ears. Like a bomb had gone off.

Emily looked furious. Terrified. Worried.

"Oh, baby…"

Alison let her knees give out. She didn't need to stand anymore. The brunette would take care of her.

Emily caught her before she collapsed. The detective put her arm against the small of her back and swung her other arm under the backs of her knees, sweeping her into her arms.

Alison's head fell against her chest and all she could think was,

This is nice. I like it here.

"Hey, you're okay now." Emily kissed the top of her head. Her voice sounded scratchy. Was she crying?

No, don't cry, my angel.

Alison didn't remember the exact moment her fingers started moving, but seconds later they were twisted tightly in the fabric of Emily's shirt.

"You're okay. I've got you."

"We've got you." She'd said that to Emily the day she came into the hospital.

Her vision felt funny. Black spots formed in her eyes.

"Ali…hey, are you with me?"

Of course.

But she didn't say it out loud. She blinked until Emily's face came into focus. And she thought of omelets and bacon and coffee and shower sex. She thought of Emily's romp in the water park after dark when she was a teenager. She thought of every good thing she had in her life, and it all led back to the woman holding her.

She looked down and saw that the ground was moving beneath them.

Emily had decided not to wait on a gurney. She held Alison close to her body as she raced to the front entrance of the ER.

Aria met her at the door, Spencer in tow.

Emily carefully placed her on the gurney.

Alison panicked the second her body lost contact with Emily's. She scratched at the air, grasping for her arm.

Was she saying her name out loud? She thought she was saying her name out loud.

Emily grabbed her hand.

"I'm right here," she said as she leaned over the gurney, racing along beside it. The brunette put her palm against Alison's cheek. "Hey, look at me, Ali." Alison felt Emily's other hand against hers, squeezing it.

Alison blinked and peered at Emily.

Is this what it feels like to be on the other side of this?

"Just focus on me."

Alison squeezed Emily's hand back, tears in her eyes.

"Stay with me," Alison croaked.

Was that her voice?

Her neck felt big. She probably had bruises on it.

Stay with me.

Her words resonated in Emily.

"If you ask me to stay, I will always stay." Emily had told her once.

"The devil himself couldn't pry me away." Emily promised.

The devil isn't a he. She's a she. She's me.

Spencer did the intake exam, despite what was happening with her family.

"We can do a rape kit…"

"I don't need one." Alison cut her fellow attending off, having finally found her voice.

"Alison…"

"I stabbed him in the throat before he had a chance." The blonde explained.

Spencer nodded.

"Then radiology is waiting for you."

She talked about taking her for X-Rays. Emily walked with them, but when they got to radiology Spencer faced the detective.

"We'll just be a minute. If you'll wait here…"

"She stays." Alison growled, tightening her grip on Emily's hand.

"Alison, it's against protocol. I can't…"

"She. Stays." Alison argued.

Spencer grumbled something under her breath, but then nodded at Emily. She made her put on a radiology vest and stand behind the glass with her as Alison had her skull and face radiographed for fractures.

By the time they were finished, Toby was in her room waiting on them. In the midst of the chaos Emily had texted him. He was on the phone with someone.

Emily yanked it away from him,

"Who am I talking to?" She took complete control. The commanding officer in a battalion full of idiots. "Right, well, I don't care how you get his damn DNA, just get it! There are traces of his blood in that rig. We have enough for a warrant at this point."

A pause.

"He attacked my girlfriend at her fucking hospital!" Emily growled.

The entire time Emily was screaming into the phone all Alison could think about what this meant for her game.

This could be good for me. She sees me as vulnerable. When his body shows up there is no way she'll suspect I could have done it. She thinks he 'overpowered' me. She wouldn't dare dream that I could take him, cut out his tongue…

"I told you to get a goddamn detail on her!" Emily yelled.

"Fields," Toby said softly.

"What?" Emily replied, but she wasn't really replying. It was an automated response. She was somewhere else completely.

"Emily, look at me." He reached up and touched her shoulder and she dragged her gaze to meet his.

Alison saw Emily go limp at his touch.

How does he do that? How does he reach her like that?

Toby knew there wasn't anything he could say to make it better, but he wanted to offer her a center, something to ground herself in.

"Breathe." He put his hand on the phone. She was gripping it like a vice. He managed to get her to loosen her hold. "I've got this end. You just take care of her."

He walked out before Emily could argue.

Her chest was heaving in anger. She screamed. Anger. Frustration. Desperation. She wanted to destroy something. Alison could tell. It painted a different picture of the mild flirty detective that she was used to. There was an edge...a bit of danger in her.

She's losing control.

It kind of turned Alison on.

The brunette drew back and slammed her fist into the wall, leaving a large cracked dent. She shook her hand muttering an "ow" and sighed before turning around.

"Sorry. I'll pay for that." Emily faced Alison.

No. Do that again. It was sexy.

"It's okay." Alison's voice came out quiet, and a bit raspy.

Emily walked to her bedside.

"How are you feeling?"

Alison reached for Emily's hand, grabbing it and pulling her closer in one swift motion.

"It could have been much worse." Alison's voice was still hoarse. She could still feel his hands around her throat.

"No broken bones." Alison managed a weak smile. "My nose looked fine on the XRay. No skull fractures. I saw the films before we left. It just hurt like hell and startled me more than anything." She thought of how she'd seen stars in her eyes when that door hit her in the face. "He…didn't get anywhere with me…in the ambulance. He tried, but…"

She saw Emily turn her head and sigh.

"It was too damn close." Emily bit her lip, tears in her eyes.

Oh, no, honey, don't blame yourself…

"I never should have left." Emily tightened her grip on Alison's hand.

"You couldn't have known."

"I felt it. In my gut. I knew something was wrong. It's been nagging me for weeks. I should have known he would do this…"

"Emily, you're under a lot of pressure at work. Don't do this to yourself." She reached up and cupped her cheek.

She knew exactly what was on Emily's mind, I left Maya. I left Alison. I shouldn't have left. I leave, and the people I love get hurt.

"I'm going to be okay. I've been through worse." Her tone came out flat, alluding to her family, though a lot of it was directed at Wilden.

"God, Alison, I'm so sorry." She looked for a place on her face to touch her without hurting her. Everything was swollen, and it looked painful. She opted to gently stroke the top of her head. "We're going to get this fucker. I promise. And he's not going to get off easy. I'm going to make him pay for what he did to you."

It was an intriguing scenario for Alison. What exactly was a dark Emily Fields like? Could this be something that she could use in the future for justification of her kills?

Emily certainly looked like she would shoot the pig-fuck point blank. Could this be a happy medium they could land on?

Murderers and rapists deserve to die…

Soft footfalls interrupted her thoughts.

"Alison?" Toby's demeanor was gentle, a kindness she'd not seen from him before.

Emily took one look at him and she knew exactly what he was about to say.

"Not now, Toby." Emily whipped her head towards him, glaring a warning at him.

"Oh." Alison understood. "You need to talk to me about…it."

"Let her get two minutes of fucking rest, Cavanaugh."

Her words bit into him. Alison saw him take a tentative step back, but before he could go anywhere Alison put her hand up.

"No. It's…it's okay. I learned when I was younger that it's better to talk to a victim…" She cringed at thinking of herself as weak, vulnerable, "…when something is still fresh in their mind. I want to give my statement."

Unlike the last time she'd given a statement, this time she didn't have to lie.

"I got a message from Kathleen that a patient's father called about something left behind in one of the rigs."

Emily glanced at Toby. It was amazing how quickly she'd shifted from girlfriend-mode to detective.

"Phone logs," Emily said.

"Got it." Toby jotted it down. "We'll trace the call."

"When I got out there I…" She didn't want to tell Emily she'd been distracted by her text. The brunette was already blaming herself. "He caught me off-guard. The ambulance door hit me in the face and then everything was a blur until I was in the back of the rig." She was startled to find her voice shaking. "He uh…he tried." She rubbed her arm. "I fought. He didn't…" She took a breath. "I was so scared." Still no lies. Interesting. "I was…desperate. I felt around for anything I could use to protect myself. I…I didn't want to die…"

She looked at Emily, helplessly, hoping it would appeal to her sympathies.

It worked.

Emily grabbed Alison's hand and squeezed it.

"Hey, you fought like hell, Ali. And because of you we're going to be able to bring him in."

Not if I get to him first.

"Just tell us what happened next." Toby gently prodded her, earning a scowl from his partner.

So protective. Alison couldn't help but smile.

"I grabbed one of the EMT's go-kits and smashed it against the side of his face and that blindsided him long enough for me to get the scalpel…"

Which was already being bagged up as evidence and would be tested against the partial sample they already had.

"I stabbed him. Once. In the neck and he fell backwards. I think he must have accidentally hit the latch to open the door because that's when he fell out."

"I want eyes on Cyrus Petrillo, Billy Ford, and Tim Roland. If any of them have injuries matching her description I want their asses at the station." Emily glanced at Toby again.

"It was him, Em." Alison looked down at their joined hands. Emily sandwiched the blonde's small hand between hers. "It was that guy from the park."

God, he would have fucking raped me…

Was that rush of terror what the other girls felt? What about the teenager? The child? She couldn't let it happen again.

He's a fucking dead man.

"You saw him?" Emily's eyes widened.

Alison wanted to tell her the truth. That she'd caught a glimpse of him. But she wanted him all to herself.

"No." She forced the lie, forced herself to look deflated. "But I just…I felt that energy. It felt like him. It felt like it was…"

"Personal?" Emily finished her thought for her.

Good girl. Take the bait.

She'd planted the seed...convinced Emily that even if it wasn't Tim, that someone else had been watching them in the park that day.

"I'm sorry." Cry. She told herself. Make yourself seem more vulnerable. "I'm sorry I didn't see anything. I can't…I can't remember. I wish I had. I wish…"

"Shhh." Emily shook her head, touching her face. "It's okay. We're going to have enough evidence to get this fucker. He'll never hurt anyone again."

Toby cleared his throat.

"I um…I think we've got enough to go on. Doctor Montgomery gave her statement, too." He flipped through his notes. "He was apparently around 6'3. She estimated it by her own height, noting that 'I knew exactly which angle I would have needed to jam my knee into his balls and then rip his eyes out with my thumbs'."

Both Alison and Emily let out a surprised laughed.

"Em, you stay here. Furey is stepping in to help on this one." Toby gave Emily a sympathetic look.

Alison wasn't the least bit surprised.

Of course Marco wants in. I'm the one who's hurt.

The little seven-year-old child he'd saved over twenty years ago.

Furey stepping in made sense. Toby knew Emily would want to stay with Alison. She was too close to the case now. It was personal.

"Check the other two's alibis. If they're clean we have a really good chance at nabbing this asshole," Emily said.

"I got this." Toby nodded. He was all business, a furious look on his face.

Emily shot him a look that Alison definitely recognized,

You fucking better.

The detective stayed with her, never straying from her side. Alison was in and out of it because of the pain medications, but she knew Emily was there. She heard her quiet whispers of love and encouragement. She heard the hushed conversations she had on the phone.

But when Alison finally woke up it wasn't Emily that was by her bedside. It was Spencer. The blonde looked over, vision blurred from her swollen facial injuries, and saw Emily by the window. She was having an intense conversation with someone on the phone in the corner of the room.

"I want him found. And when he is I want a shot at him." Her voice was cool and calm, but dangerous. The kind an assassin might have.

In Alison's fucked up mind all she could think was,

Aww, she'd murder someone for me.

"She's been working non-stop." Spencer laid her stethoscope against Alison's chest.

The motion felt wrong somehow. Alison was usually the one wielding the stethoscope. She didn't like being at Dr. Hastings' mercy.

"Shouldn't you be with your sister?" It was the first thing Alison could think of to try and chase her away.

I'm your sister, too. She hated it. She hated that they were related, but they'd never be family.

"Melissa is stable. My mother is with her. I thought it only right to attend to you." She made it sound like a chore, and Alison resented it.

Sorry someone attempting to rape me made you think about someone outside the Hastings family dichotomy.

What came out was an edited version of her feelings.

"I'm sorry to pull focus from the St. Hastings family drama." Alison tried to push her away.

Usually her hostility worked, but Spencer wasn't playing into it for some reason.

Don't. Alison growled in thought. Don't you dare feel sorry for me. Don't you pity me…

"I'm so sorry I asked you to come in tonight." Spencer laid her hand against Alison's arm.

The blonde was so stunned she wasn't sure what to say.

First Emily was blaming herself. Now Spencer was blaming herself, too?

"This isn't anyone's fault except for the psychopath who attacked me." Alison reached up and touched her nose. She felt light bandaging in the form of butterfly bandages against the bridge of her nose. She had a bandage on her head where the cut was. "Did Emily catch the asshole yet?"

"She's been working on it. For hours." Spencer eyed the brunette from across the room. "She cares a great deal for you, doesn't she?" She looked at Emily, who was laser focused as she doled out orders on the phone.

"She does."

"She hasn't so much as stopped to take a breath."

"That's my girl." Alison smiled softly.

Spencer watched the woman intently.

"She's good for you, Ali. I like her."

"I like her, too." Alison nodded.

There was a point of hesitation before Spencer looked at her again.

"You should really talk to someone about what happened. I can get you a referral…"

"I'm fine." Alison cut Spencer off.

It's not like I haven't been here before.

"Alison…"

"He didn't actually rape me…" Her tone was flat. No emotion.

"Right." Spencer's words came out angry, sardonic. "He only assaulted you."

She's frustrated. Does she care?

Alison cocked her head.

Would she care if she knew what I was?

"Compared to those other girls I got lucky." Alison rubbed a bruise on her arm.

"That doesn't mean you didn't suffer something traumatic." Spencer looked like she wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but she pulled back.

"I'm no stranger to it." Alison's voice was dead. I was practically born into it. "I'll be fine."

Spencer didn't push her. She had learned Alison's limits over the years.

"Just please promise me you'll take care of your mental health."

What mental health?

"I promise." You're always better off with a really good lie.

"Just let me know when you know something." Emily turned around, hanging up the phone.

"Everything looks good. No concussion." Spencer smiled at Alison and then at Emily. "I'll be back in to check on you later."

Spencer waved to Emily and then walked out into the hallway.

The brunette walked to Alison's bedside, sitting against the edge of it. She silently took her hand.

"Any news?" Alison asked.

"The call Kathleen got came from a burner phone, so that's a dead end. We went by his place, but he wasn't there. Talked to a neighbor. He's supposedly on a business trip." She spit angrily. "Left this evening."

He went into hiding. Alison felt a thrill of excitement. Makes the hunt more fun for me.

Emily mistook the thoughtful look on Alison's face for concern.

"Hey, I promise I will never let him hurt you again." She curled her fingers into Alison's. "I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

Alison nodded. She wanted to respond, but her thoughts were racing, so she pretended to be tired.

"I'm a little sleepy," she said quietly as she closed her eyes.

"You just rest. I'll be here when you wake up." Emily kissed her cheek.

Alison smiled.

At first, the sleepiness was just an act, but soon she felt her body slowly shutting down. The pain medications were kicking in.

Even with her eyes closed she could still feel Emily there.

She was sure she'd dream about Tim hurting her.

Instead, she dreamed about how wonderful it was going to feel when she got him off the streets. She imagined the rush she'd get from carving her scarlet letter into his fat fucking face.

Justice would be swift.

But it would not be kind.

---

A/N: *inserts 'how am I doing?' survey*

Curious to hear theories, thoughts, and general comments. Seriously. Help me, I'm poor. Your reviews are the only thing that keep me sane.

Tobily got your heart? Spalison being frenemies? Aria being a lil badass? Emily's dark side? What intrigues you most?

I shall now excuse myself to cry in a tub of ice cream because writing the Fields family flashback took a lot out of me.