A/N: Hold tight, as we delve deeper you're going to discover that both of these girls are 50 shades of fucked up (then again, aren't we all...to an extent?).
To the reviewer wondering about Alison's sexuality…you get a solid answer to that in Chapter 6 when her background is explored a little more.
Thanks for all of the feedback and encouragement. This has been a tough one to navigate. This material is so difficult to waver with care. There's a balance of trying to be realistic while also remaining respectful. But I know it's triggering and touches a nerve for many, so I appreciate everyone who trusts in my writing enough to go on this journey with me even though it's rooted heavily in dark content. Given that October 10 was National Mental Health Awareness Day I just wanted to say to anyone who struggles that you're not alone. People care. I care.
Chapter 4:
Hidden Scars
Alison waited for Emily to come in for her next session. But she never did. It made her feel a sense of failure she'd never felt before. She had royally fucked things up, and she knew it.
As she'd watched Emily walk away from her she'd had a feeling she wouldn't be seeing her again. But what was she supposed to do? Chase her down and tackle her and force her to stay? No. That would be crazy.
Instead she'd resorted to research, a less visual form of stalking. She'd managed to sneak a peek at Emily's medical records to see if she could find any information on where she might have gone. But the address and phone number were blank. Most of her personal information just had a question mark next to it.
However, she did find out that Emily was sicker than she was letting on. She saw the bloodwork with Emily's elevated kidney and liver enzymes. That just made her more determined to find her and help her.
Emily's disappearance worried Alison. She knew the likelihood of her attempting suicide again was high. And the last thing she wanted to do was read something about a soldier OD'ing on the front page of some generic news site.
Alison felt like shit for sleeping with her when she should have been helping her. She didn't know that by having a moment of passion with her, she was helping her. She'd said it herself. Emily was different. Reaching her that day had required skills that education couldn't teach. Emily was layered. Her pain was layered. And her beauty was unprecedented, and in a way, untapped.
She couldn't get the woman out of her head. She dreamed about her. She saw her when she wasn't there. She was obsessed. She'd promised Emily she'd see it through to the end with her.
She knew that some of her obsession was just her way of avoiding her own demons. Repression was the only coping mechanism that helped her deal with her personal problems. One of the first things she'd learned as a Psych major was that a lot of people went into the field to work on their own shit vicariously through others.
Ever since Emily had come into her life she felt like something inside of her had changed. All she wanted to do was see her and talk to her. All she wanted to do was make sure that she was okay. She wanted to hold her hand and curl up next to her on the couch.
She wanted to cook for her and watch the delight on her face when she bit into something delicious. She wanted to make dessert with her…that would turn into more than just baking with hot chocolate and whipped cream. She wanted to lick ice cream toppings off of her body.
She wanted Emily to have her way with her in every room in her house. She wanted so many impossible things. She was mapping out a future with someone she didn't even know. Yet, she felt like life hadn't existed before she met her. It was an impossibly selfish dream, but it was what her heart desired.
Alison searched for Emily for two weeks and found no trace. She was slowly coming to the realization that she would probably never see her again. It hit her harder than she expected. She went into a funk. Even when she was out on the town with her friends she wasn't mentally present.
They dragged her out to dinner one night. She sat in the restaurant sulking, silently lamenting about what a failure she was. Her mother was right. She'd never amount to anything. She was screwing up her life.
She listened as her friends Aria and Spencer talked about all the wonderful things they had going on in their lives. Aria's two-year-old daughter Ellie was learning her ABCs. They watched several videos of the toddler trying to say words that started with certain letters. They all laughed when she mispronounced "cook" as "cock".
"Dad was mortified. But mom thought it was hilarious." Aria rewound the video so they could see it again.
Alison couldn't help but smile when she looked at the toddler's little toothy grin. She'd been there when Ellie was born. She'd been through a lot with Aria. And Aria had been there for her. Aria had really gone above and beyond lately, because she knew that Alison was having a hard time letting Emily go.
Spencer was doing well, too. She'd just gotten engaged and was thriving as a law professor. She'd grown up in a family full of attorneys, so it was no surprise to Alison that she was completing the cycle by teaching law.
When she'd first met Spencer their freshman year in college one of the first things the lanky fireball had told her was that her plan was to run a major law school. She was on her way.
"You're being insanely quiet tonight." Spencer pushed Alison playfully. "What's up with that?"
Alison was usually the life of the party. She loved pushing her friends to the limit. But lately all that had been on her brain was a brunette in army fatigues. Though, admittedly she had a lot of other stuff going on. There was never a shortage of drama in her life.
"I talked to Jason last night." Alison glanced at the half-empty glass of vodka in front of her.
If her friends only knew the truth about her brother…
"How is he doing?" Spencer questioned.
"He says he's keeping his head down. He's surviving." That's what her brother did. He survived. He survived their shitty childhood. He survived his stint overseas. And he survived his PTSD. Or, at least he'd learned to live with it. "He got a new cellmate. Says he seems okay. Apparently he was also in the army. Was dishonorably discharged."
"Has he heard anything more about his appeal?" Aria asked.
"It was denied."
Aria's nostrils flared angrily. She'd grown up with Alison and Jason, and she knew Jason very well. It pissed her off that he was behind bars, especially given that he was a veteran.
"Everyone knows the charges are bullshit. Any moron could see it was self-defense…"
Only it wasn't. Alison knew the real story. Because she was there, too.
Spencer and Aria saw Alison's shoulders scrunch up. Aria put a sympathetic hand against her back and gently rubbed it. Alison smiled appreciatively at her.
"I can put a call into my mom." Spencer offered. "Maybe she can put the fear of God into the state court."
"She's already done everything she can. But I appreciate it." Alison smiled weakly.
She ached for her brother sometimes. Mainly because what happened to him was her fault.
"So, you still burying yourself in work?" Spencer questioned.
"Yes." Aria answered for her.
Alison glared at her. Aria just shrugged and took a sip of her cocktail.
"What? Am I lying?" Aria questioned.
"No, but you're annoying me."
"I feel like I'm missing something here." Spencer noticed the strange tension between them.
Alison sighed. She hadn't told Spencer about Emily specifically because she knew what she would say. But she could tell Spencer wasn't going to let it go.
"There was this call a few weeks ago…"
"Yeah, that's kind of the whole point of what you do."
"This one was different." Alison could still feel the prickling sensation she'd felt the first time she'd heard Emily's voice, and the absolutely stomach-churning nausea she'd felt when she'd seen her body. "She almost died…"
"Yeah, but you helped her. That's what you do."
"…in my arms." Alison looked up at Spencer, finishing her thought.
"Oh." Spencer's tone was suddenly soft.
"Yeah." Alison stirred her vodka before taking a sip. "I found her out under the railway pass. She was barely breathing. I called for the paramedics."
"She's being modest." Aria jumped in. "She saved her life. No one knew where she was calling from, but Ali here got the ingenious idea to follow the sound of the train horn she heard on the phone. She found her."
I did find her. Alison agreed in thought. She'd found her. And now she'd lost her again.
"That's great, Ali. I'm really proud of you." Spencer smiled.
"The paramedics did all the hard work." Alison shrugged it off.
"They never would have been able to save her had you not found her first." Aria pointed out.
"So, is she okay?" Spencer asked.
"I don't know." Alison sighed. She put her elbow on the table and leaned forward. "I wish I knew. I know it's crazy, but I can't get her out of my mind."
"We've talked about this. You can't bring your work home with you. You have to find a way to keep your work world separate…to protect your own mental health." Spencer gently touched her arm.
"It's complicated." Alison frowned. Alison thought about how pale Emily had been when she found her, how close to death she was. "We had this moment out there. It's hard to explain. She woke up for a few seconds, and there was this…" She shook her head. "I don't know. But I stayed with her. I went to the hospital with her."
"That's not so complicated." Spencer wasn't surprised.
Alison looked up at her.
"I talked my way into her room after they got her stable. And then I talked to her doctor about my therapy program. Because I knew they'd want her to come see me. I wanted to keep tabs on her."
"Oh my God. You stalked her?" Spencer gawked.
"No!" Alison grumbled defensively. "I didn't…" She got flustered. "It wasn't like that. I made a promise to her that I wouldn't leave her. And I don't know, it just…felt right at the time. But then she came for her individual session and things…" She bit her lip. "Things took a turn. We…um…it was just this heat of the moment thing. We got carried away. I lost focus…"
Spencer's jaw dropped. Aria glanced at her with wide eyes. Alison had told her about Emily coming to her sessions, but not about anything else. Alison hadn't told anyone what she'd done that day. Because deep down she knew it was wrong. She shouldn't have let it happen when Emily was that vulnerable.
"You slept with her?" Spencer exclaimed.
"Say it a little louder. I don't think the people down the block heard you." Alison bit back harshly. "It happened. I'm not proud of how it happened, but I don't regret it. And I think it helped…in a roundabout way."
"You slept with someone who tried to kill herself?" Spencer was having trouble wrapping her mind around it. She was trying to understand it from Alison's perspective, but all that was coming to her mind was "what the fuck is the matter with you?"
"You couldn't possibly understand. You didn't see what I saw in her. The feelings…they just happened. She changed when we were alone. She was responding to me…to my touch…"
"I'll bet." Spencer uttered.
"Spencer." Aria growled at her to shut up.
"It was different. She was different. I felt it." She'd seen it in Emily's eyes.
"You should have kept those feelings to yourself." Spencer scoffed. Alison glared at her. Spencer had always been a judgy little snot. "You could lose your whole program over this."
"I wasn't thinking, okay?" Alison snapped. "God. And now she's out there. All alone. And it scares me. She has so much pain she's holding inside. She saw so much action overseas. And you know what that does to someone. You saw how Jason was when he got back."
"Yeah…" Aria said, her eyes glazing over, "I remember how much he panicked when your asshole neighbors set off fireworks in the middle of the night."
"I could have killed those idiots." Spencer nodded in agreement. "People don't have any common decency anymore."
"You're implying that people ever had common decency." Alison rolled her eyes.
"How bad was it for her over there?" Aria asked.
"I'm pretty sure she was tortured. Her scars…a lot of them…they tell a story. And I read this article about how her entire squad was killed in a firefight. She was the only person who survived. She had some major injuries. She's definitely sitting on an arsenal of survivor's guilt and PTSD. And I feel like she was dealing with something heavy before she was deployed. It pushed her into this really dark depression. She didn't tell me anything, but I can tell she's using drugs and alcohol to cope…"
"She sounds really fucked up," Spencer said.
"Shut the hell up." Alison prickled up defensively. What the fuck was her problem?
"You know I'm right."
You're about to be wearing this fucking vodka…
Alison felt like throwing her drink in Spencer's face. She loved the bitch, but she hated her sometimes, too. Spencer had always been annoyingly blunt. Aria was a little more sensitive because she understood the heavy emotional toll that came with their job. Aria knew that she could have just as easily been invested in Emily's situation.
Aria was aware that she could have been the one to take Emily's call, and in fact it had been her phone line. Alison just happened to be in that exact spot at the right time. Emily would have died had Alison not been the one to answer. Aria certainly wouldn't have thought to go and look for her. It was that one instance, a happenstance of fate that had saved her.
"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Spencer grimaced. "It just sounds like she has a lot going on. And we know you like to try and fix things…"
"She's not broken. She's just…" Alison said, treading carefully, "…healing."
"Do you really think it's a good idea to get involved with someone you're clearly attracted to? Someone with that much damage?" Spencer sighed. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just worried about you. You've been through a lot, too. And I don't want to see you get your heart broken."
"I'm a big girl, Spencer. I can handle myself."
Spencer finally relented. There was a beat of silence and then Spencer popped an olive in her mouth.
"The sex was that good, huh?"
"Shut up." Alison shoved her.
"I'm not hearing a no."
Alison rolled her eyes. Of course she didn't understand. Alison barely understood it herself.
"There is more to it than that."
There was more to it because she couldn't stop obsessing about whether or not Emily was okay. She couldn't stop worrying that something horrible had happened to her. She had carved a little piece of her heart out for someone she didn't even know. She cared more about seeing her healthy, alive, and well more than anything else.
She wanted Emily to know that she had someone who cared about her. She cared more about making sure she was in a safe place with a warm bed than she cared about anything sexual. But she'd lost hope that she'd ever see her again, unless it was in a body bag.
But two days later she got a second chance…a clean slate, and a way to prove her intentions. Because nearly forty-eight hours after she'd had dinner with her friends she found Emily by chance. Much like the night she'd called.
Ever since Emily had wandered out of the hospital Alison had been frequenting the local bars, hoping to run into her. She knew it was a long shot, but she couldn't let Emily go.
When she walked past a grimy pub and glanced in the window and saw a woman with long dark hair with her back turned sitting at the bar she felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. She didn't get her hopes up at first. She knew that there were a lot of brunettes out there. But her physique was unmistakable. When the woman turned to the side Alison saw her. Relief flooded her body. She was still alive.
Emily was staring into a glass of bourbon, completely unaware of the blonde making an entrance into the bar. Emily was already on her third drink of the night. She didn't care if she puked later. She had meds for nausea. She tipped her glass up and finished off the drink just as someone took a seat next to her.
When she turned and looked at her she dropped the glass on the bar.
What the fuck is she doing in this dive bar?
She'd found her. Alison fucking DiLaurentis had fucking found her. Again. She cursed herself for not leaving town. Then again, she had nowhere to go. And a little part of her wanted to stay…for Alison.
"So, you're a hit it and quit it kind of girl?" Alison asked curiously.
"Oh. Hey." Somehow she managed not to sound drunk. It was something she'd perfected over the years. She'd been drinking since she was thirteen. It helped numb her pain. "You following me?"
"You didn't come back."
"So you brought the therapy to me?"
"Something like that."
"Why do you care?" Please don't get involved. Please. You'll only get hurt.
"Because you didn't come back."
Shit.
"Didn't see the need to share my feelings. I left my soul back overseas. I don't feel much these days." She stared into the empty glass of alcohol.
She waved the bartender over and held her glass out to let him know she wanted a refill.
"You shouldn't be drinking, Emily."
"What are you, my sponsor now?" Emily didn't like being told what to do, even though she knew Alison was right. She couldn't let go of that control. "You do know that your responsibility to me was over the second I passed out on that phone. You didn't have to pull a bunch of Supergirl shit."
"You're not glad you're still here giving me hell?"
"That's one plus, I guess." Emily nodded with a smile.
Finally. Alison thought to herself. That smile…
"You have a beautiful smile."
"What?" Emily asked, her voice cracking.
"Just an observation." Alison shrugged.
"What exactly is it that you're doing here? You wanna go in the bathroom and recreate the magic of our first time or…"
"No." Alison shook her head. Yes. God, yes. "Listen, that day in the office…"
"Was a mistake. Yeah, I've heard it all before."
What moron in their right mind would EVER consider this girl a mistake? Alison was shocked to hear that.
"No. I don't regret it. I don't regret you."
Emily peered at her curiously. She couldn't figure the blonde out. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't shake the desire in her chest.
"I just think there is more to life than physical intimacy," Alison explained.
"Physical intimacy?" Emily teased. What a 'girl' thing to say. That's adorable.
"Fucking. There is more to life than fucking." Alison cut to the chase.
Emily snorted out a laugh. Not as innocent as she looks. I should have known…
"Maybe there's more to your life." Emily disagreed. "Look, if you came here because you feel guilty or whatever, don't. I had a good time. I'm not sweating it. You shouldn't either. It was just sex. Nothing personal."
But Alison knew that wasn't the truth. Something about the way Emily had looked at her that day in the office told her a different story. Emily had felt something, and it had scared the hell out of her. Emily had connected to her in a real way, and Alison got the feeling she hadn't done that in a long time.
"That's not why I'm here." Alison glanced at the drink in front of Emily.
"Then why are you here? You sure as shit don't strike me as the type of girl to come to this kind of a dump on your own."
"I want to do this right."
"Meaning what?"
"I think you're smart enough to know what it means."
She wants to know you. She'll hate you when she finds out the truth. You don't deserve her. Emily could feel a rising panic in her mind. The part of her that hated herself was constricting her, making her feel like she couldn't breathe.
"This isn't some feel-good TV special. I'm not going to sit here in a bar and tell you my life story." Emily glared coldly at her.
"I don't expect you to. Let's just start simple. What's your favorite color?"
Emily laughed at the absurdity of it.
"You don't give up, do you?"
"I'm told it's one of my less attractive qualities."
Emily scoffed again. Like anything about Alison was unattractive?
"I don't think you'd be surprised to find out that it's black." Emily replied.
"Mmm…" Alison nodded. "Like the color of your soul?"
Fuck, why does she have to be beautiful AND funny? Emily smiled.
"What's your favorite color, blondie? I seem to recall you having an affinity for the color pink." She glanced at Alison's chest.
"Eyes up here, Sergeant." Alison smirked. When Emily looked at her she had a soft smile on her face. "I do like pink. It's not my favorite though. I prefer red. It's powerful and bold, but it tells a story of passion. Plus, it looks killer on me."
"I'll bet."
"So, what do you like to do for fun?" Alison asked.
"Closed door therapy sessions."
"You think you're funny, don't you?"
"I think I'm hilarious. I get my cheeky sense of humor from my dead brother. He thought it was a fucking riot to leave me down here stumbling around like a drunk squirrel." She raised her empty glass towards the ceiling in a toast. "Real fucking funny, dickhead."
"I…uh…I'm sorry to hear that." Suddenly the way that soldier in the photo she'd seen hovering protectively over Emily made sense.
"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill the vibe." Emily put her glass down. "My humor is…it's an acquired taste."
"Do you have any other brothers or sisters?"
"No." She flinched. She couldn't get the ghostly pale look on Ethan's face out of her head. She closed her eyes and then pressed her thumb and index finger against the bridge of her nose to keep from crying. "I did have a sister when I was younger, but she died before my brother and I joined the army." Emily lowered her hands.
"I'm sorry," Alison said quietly. "What happened?"
"Something I don't feel like revisiting, Doctor Feelgood." Emily shrugged uncomfortably. She looked at Alison and tried to change the subject. "You got any other family besides your brother?"
The mention of Jason made Alison feel tense. She didn't talk about her family. The only reason she'd opened up to Emily about it was to try and get her to see that it was okay to share her feelings. Alison squirmed. She suddenly realized what Emily felt like being in the hot-seat.
"Just him." Alison answered.
"Is he a good brother?"
"He annoys the shit out of me, but I know I can always count on him."
"Yeah." Emily laughed. "Ethan was the same way. Asshole would sit on my head in the middle of an argument, but he'd destroy anyone who even looked at me wrong."
"Brothers are funny, aren't they?"
"They are." Emily felt a pang in her chest. "I hope you know how lucky you are to still have him."
"Yeah." Alison replied softly.
She didn't elaborate on him being in jail. The whole point of helping Emily was not to put her problems on top of what she was already dealing with.
Everything was going smoothly until the bartender walked back over to Emily and put a full glass of bourbon down in front of her. It killed Alison to watch Emily hurt herself. Before Emily could pick it up Alison slid it away.
"Please don't."
"You're not my fucking mom." Emily frowned.
"Emily, I know about your kidney and your liver."
"Doesn't change anything. I don't need someone in my life to play the role of some guardian angel…" Though Alison certainly looked the part. "Sorry, Holy roller, you're out of luck. I'm a fucking washout. I'll be dead within a year. Might as well help it along." Emily reached for the alcohol again. She saw the look of disappointment on Alison's face and it made her hesitate. And she hated Alison for making her hesitate. She sighed. "Look, if you're smart you'll stay the hell away from me. I poison everyone I meet. I don't want to do that to you."
"You are so much more than what you see in yourself…"
"No amount of hippie talk can beat the facts. I've got no money, no home. No skills. I can barely function. Army doesn't want me back. I'm damaged goods. No one will hire me. I'm useless."
"Don't say that."
"Why not? It's true. And you're all about the truth, right? Looking at your 'inner self' and that shit?"
"Sometimes we're so blinded by the hardships in our own reality that we can't see what others see."
"And what is it that you see when you look at me?"
"Your scars." Alison replied.
Emily was intrigued by her response. She didn't react when Alison reached out towards her arm, towards the scars that stood out against her skin. Alison's fingertips hovered over Emily's scars. She looked up at her, silently asking permission. Emily nodded to let her know it was okay. Alison moved her fingers over the blemishes. She could practically feel the pain that they embodied.
"I see what hurt you. But I also see the resilience and the fight you have. You push back."
Not always. Emily knew she was giving up. But she was too tired to keep fighting.
"You think you're done," Alison said, her eyes locking on Emily's. "But you're not. Because your scars might have shaped you, but they don't define you."
"How can you know that?" Emily felt a softness around Alison, and she didn't understand why. Because how could someone she didn't even know see her on a level that no one else could?
"Because you're not the only one with scars, Emily." Alison gently pulled her hands away.
Emily wanted to tell her not to stop. She wanted to feel her touch. She yearned to be connected to her. She knew it was a bad idea, but she didn't care.
"Who hurt you?" Emily asked, almost in a rage. Because she would fucking destroy whoever had left Alison with scars.
"It doesn't matter. They're gone now. And I'm better for it. I've come to terms with who I am. And I am confident in my life. I like being me. That wasn't always the case."
Two thoughts came to Emily's mind. The first one was that she was going to kill the person or persons who had hurt her. But then her self-doubt came swinging in hard with the second thought,
You can't protect her. You can't protect anyone. You couldn't protect your dad. You couldn't protect Ethan. You couldn't protect Ellie…
Alison could see her struggling.
"When did it start?" Alison questioned, interrupting her train of thought. "The suicidal thoughts?" She clarified. "Was it when you got back?"
Emily got really quiet. Alison saw her shutting down, so she moved her hand closer to where Emily's palm was resting flat on the bar. Emily saw the motion. She inched her hand closer to Alison's. That was all the consent Alison needed to gently place her hand on top of Emily's.
"Holding on to it only hurts yourself. I know someone hurt you. But if you continue to bottle up that hatred it's only hurting you. It's like drinking poison and then waiting for those who hurt you to die."
Emily had heard that before.
Hate is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.
"Buddha, huh? Bringing out the big guns on me." Emily smiled.
"Actually, it's a myth that's been fabricated that it was in Buddhist teachings. A lot of people think it derived from Alcoholics Anonymous. It's where I first heard it. I was in training."
"That your subtle way of telling me that I should go to a meeting?" Emily asked.
"It's not my subtle way of telling you anything. I'm just saying that I don't want you to keep hurting yourself. And I'll do whatever it takes to help you."
Emily stared at her. She wanted so badly to open up to her. She wanted to trust her. But her mind was torn into so many scattered pieces that she didn't know where to begin. Her broken reflection was in shards that could never be glued back together. But when she looked at Alison, the broken pieces didn't seem so irreparable.
"I wasn't always like this," Emily said softly. It was so quiet that Alison could barely hear her over the ambient bar noise. "I was happy once. But…things change. Life…it's fucked sometimes, you know?"
Alison nodded, encouraging Emily to continue. She wanted Emily to keep talking. Emily took a hesitant breath and then she glanced down. It was hard for her to think about her past. But sometimes she couldn't get away from it.
"My dad died when I was six." She started grinding her teeth together as she fought back tears. "I saw it happen. We were out celebrating my brother's karate belt test. And this guy…this disgruntled ex-employee came in and started shooting people. People who were just out with their families like mine. He just…popped off. He didn't care who he hurt. My dad and I got separated from my mom and my brother."
Alison saw a tremendous amount of pain in Emily's eyes as she revisited the gory scene. Her experiences with death had started long before she went overseas.
"We were trapped. Dad had me hide behind a booth when he saw the guy coming. I was little enough to fit, but he wasn't. He told me to be quiet and not to move no matter what. When the guy cornered him I heard him trying to talk the gunman down, and for a few seconds the shooting stopped. But then a door slammed somewhere and…"
Emily shivered. Most of her memories were a foggy haze, but she remembered that day with perfect clarity. Alison could see the agony on her face. And she wanted nothing more than to take that pain away. She wanted to cup her cheeks and wipe away her tears. She wanted to lie her forehead against Emily's and give her a comforting kiss to make her forget. But she knew it wasn't her place. Not yet.
"I saw him fall next to the booth. And I wanted more than anything to help him, but then he looked at me…" She remembered the blood pooling around his mouth. "And he shook his head. And then the shooting started again. The asshole pumped him full of seven slugs and then moved on. I stayed in that booth for four hours. Even when the cops came I didn't want to come out. I was afraid I was the only one left."
Which was ironic, because now she was the only one left. Her family was gone. Everyone she ever cared about was dead and in the ground.
"I had never felt more relief than I did when I saw my mom and my brother outside. But I was really fucked up." She admitted. She slowly raised her head. "Still am."
"I'm so sorry. That must have been…" Fuck. That's really fucked. "I'm sorry." She didn't know what else to say.
"My family never really recovered. My mom remarried, but the guy was a corrupt cop. He was such an asshole. He was always drunk." Her hands started shaking as she let the painful memories in. "Didn't stop her from trying to start a family and move on with him though. She was trying to find a way to replace what we all lost when my father died. But we lost her in the process. She died shortly after my little sister was born. It was like some big fucking cosmic joke. We were stuck with the psychopath she married."
"Is he the reason you joined the army?"
There was so much more to it than that. There was a lot that she couldn't talk about…a lot that she didn't want to talk about.
"There was no fucking way I was staying with him one second longer than I had to." Emily took a shaky breath. "He…that guy…he was a fucking monster." Something in Emily's expression changed. She pulled her hand out from underneath Alison's. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"We don't have to."
Emily looked around, her mind trying to find an escape.
"You ever played pool?" Emily stood up and nodded towards an empty pool table.
"I played with my brother a few times, but I don't really remember it."
"Come on. I'll teach you." She started walking towards the table.
Alison got up and followed her. Emily set the balls up and grabbed two pool cues. She handed one to Alison and then moved her to the head of the table and stood behind her.
"I'll let you break." Emily smiled.
Alison fumbled with the stick for a few minutes.
"I um…I don't remember how."
"It's all about the stance." Emily moved closer to Alison.
Alison felt the brunette's body pressing against her back. Emily moved her palms up against Alison's arms. Alison closed her eyes and tried not to let her hormones take control.
Emily moved her arms around Alison's body and slid her fingers down against Alison's wrist, showing her how to move the pool cue. She slowly bent forward, forcing Alison to do the same. Alison pushed her ass into Emily's groin area and smiled. She liked having Emily this close to her again.
"Use your non-dominant hand to guide it and then just draw back and take a shot at it."
Alison could barely concentrate because Emily's cheek was pressed against hers. She tried to focus on the game. She took a calming breath and then did exactly what Emily said. The hit didn't separate the balls very much. Alison frowned.
"I could have done better."
"Hey, I'm not going to bust your balls, greenhorn." Emily smiled.
"Greenhorn?" Alison feigned being insulted. "I'll show you greenhorn."
She grabbed the chalk and rubbed it aggressively against the tip of the pool cue. She lined up another shot. She failed miserably at that one, too. Emily was all out laughing at her.
They went back and forth for a few rounds. Alison's game slightly improved as they played. They played for nearly an hour when Emily realized something. Her drink was still sitting on the bar untouched. And she didn't have the slightest inclination to touch it.
The tension was starting to ease up between them. They were having a good time until a few rowdy drunks decided to crash their party. At first they just told them they wanted to play a few friendly games with them.
Emily started to get uncomfortable, so she took a seat near the bar again. She watched them very carefully. She didn't trust them, especially not around Alison.
It didn't take Alison long to follow suit and move away from them. Emily curled her hands into fists when she heard some of the lewd things the men were saying. Her rage was boiling inside. She was just waiting for one of them so say something…
"Hey, pretty mama." One of the larger men loomed over Alison with a devious expression on his face.
"Not interested."
"Oh, come on. We were having fun…" The guy didn't take the hint. In fact, he took it a step further by groping her ass.
"Hey!" Alison shoved him away from her aggressively. She reached up and slapped him so hard that he stumbled back on his feet.
The rest of the guys stopped playing and moved towards them.
"What the hell is wrong with you, bitch? You've practically been shoving your ass at me all night long…"
"She said she's not interested." Emily stood up.
When she stood up to face him she took note of the difference in their height. She was about a foot shorter and a whole hell of a lot leaner, but she had stamina and a lot more muscle mass.
"What's it to you, dyke?"
An angry smile crept across Emily's face, like a daredevil who had just been given the mother of all dares.
She moved quick, throwing the first punch. The second her fist made contact she lost control. Alison barely had time to react before the two of them were throwing jabs and swinging hard at one another.
Emily was fast on her feet, and she managed to get the upper-hand, but then his buddies got involved and made it less of a fair fight. They were too drunk to give a shit that she was a woman. And she was too drunk to care they were tag-teaming her.
"Stop! Stop it!" Alison screamed, trying to push herself in the middle of the brawl.
One of the men shoved her away from the fight. She looked at the bartender, who was waving over a large burly man from the side of the bar.
Alison frantically looked for something to break up the fight. She saw a pool cue sitting on the felt table a few feet away. She grabbed it and swung it as hard as she could. The pool stick shattered when it made contact with the two men hitting Emily. One of them hit the ground, but the other spun around and aggressively lurched towards her. Emily got in between them first and threw another punch.
"You stay the fuck away from her or I'll slit your throat where you stand." Emily threatened menacingly.
The guy grabbed Emily and slammed her into the ground.
"Get away from her!" Alison scrambled over towards them. "Stop! STOP! She's a veteran!"
That did nothing to deter them. The man kicked her roughly in the ribs. Emily grabbed a glass bottle that had been shattered in the chaos. She jabbed it into his thigh and he screamed and fell backwards.
The brunette got to her feet, her balance uneasy. She charged at the other two men with the bottle. Alison saw a terrifying look in her eyes. She was on autopilot. Kill or be killed.
"Emily, don't!"
Before she reached the other two men she was sideswiped by two bouncers. They scuffled for a few seconds. Emily was wily. She managed to get away. The bigger bouncer charged her angrily. She threw the fleshy side of her palm into his nose, sending him toppling backwards. Blood was pouring out of his nostrils.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you, you cunt. And then I'm gonna fuck up your little girlfriend, too." He growled. He lunged for her again.
Emily slipped her palm against her hip and lifted her shirt. She pulled a gun out of a holster near her back.
"Fucking try it. I told you, leave her alone." Emily steadied the weapon.
"Jesus." The bouncer threw his hands up.
The second bouncer grabbed her from behind and de-armed her. He held her down while the other guy socked her in the stomach for good measure.
"Quit! You're hurting her!" Alison raced after them as they dragged her out of the bar. "Did you not hear me? She's a veteran!"
"I don't give a chicken fried fuck if she's the goddamned pope. No one brings a piece into our bar and starts trouble and gets away with it."
The bouncers opened the door and hurled Emily out on to the sidewalk. She landed against the hard pavement on her hands and knees.
"Give me back my gun, you assholes." Emily managed to cough out.
"Finders Keepers around these parts."
"I'll be back for it…"
"Try it and see what happens." The bouncer slammed the door.
Alison rushed to her side. Emily couldn't move at first, so she stayed on her hands and knees. She sat up, placing one hand against her stomach and kept her other against the cement for support so she didn't collapse completely. She groaned and spit out a chunk of blood, quietly thinking to herself that it looked suspiciously like a piece of her tongue.
Both of her nostrils were oozing blood. Her lips and chin were swollen with cuts and bruises. Her left eye was already starting to swell shut, a large round bruise forming around it.
Alison reached out to touch her cheek. Emily was only partially aware of her presence. Her adrenaline was still pumping.
"Are you okay?" Alison brushed a mess of tangled bloody hair away from her cheek.
Emily sucked in a harsh breath through her nose, tasting the blood in the back of her throat as she inhaled.
"Fucking peachy."
"You had a gun on you this whole time?"
"I told you I fuck things up…"
"No. This isn't your fault. They started it. You just reacted." Alison cringed when she saw the blood dripping on to the ground. "You really didn't need to defend my honor."
"You're welcome," she replied dryly.
"You could have gotten killed. They were drunk and raging out…"
"So am I." Emily retorted, glancing at her bruised and battered knuckles.
Alison lifted Emily's chin, trying to get a good look at her injuries. In the pale streetlight she could see a slight jaundicing of her skin. The whites of her eyes looked yellow, something that she hadn't been able to see in the bar.
"Have you been taking your meds?" Alison asked.
Emily sat back, staring at her.
"Yes. I read your file." Alison didn't deny it. "I'm worried about you."
"Do you make it your personal business to follow around everyone who calls your hotline? Or is there just something about me?"
"Well, we did fuck that one time." Alison sarcastically quipped back.
Emily huffed out a surprised laugh at her attitude. Then she clenched her eyes closed and groaned in pain. She felt nauseated. Her stomach lurched and she felt her throat constricting, trying to fight back the vomit. She leaned over, stretching her fingers out against the asphalt to hold her body steady and then she puked. Her vision went cloudy for a second, but then she focused in on the vomit. It was yellow and had chunks of blood in it.
Great. Internal bleeding. Why not?
"We should get you to a hospital."
Emily looked up at her in surprise. She'd vomited all over this girl twice now. Why was she still around?
"I'm already dying, Alison. It doesn't matter."
"You're not dying. You're just giving up." Alison snapped.
"Who the fuck are you to tell me how to live my life?"
"Someone who gives a fuck that you're not actually living it. Now get up." Alison yanked her to her feet with a surprising amount of force.
Emily felt Alison's hands, soft yet commanding, against her arms. She stared at her, and she saw that the blonde was visibly shaken, though she was trying to hide it. Emily mentally kicked herself.
You almost got her killed. You dragged her into this. This is your fault. You have to stay away. You'll hurt her.
"I'm done with hospitals. Just leave me alone." You're better off without me.
Emily tried to move away from her, but winced in pain and faltered. Alison held her weight so she wouldn't fall. Emily looked at her, trying to understand what Alison saw...trying to understand why she wouldn't give up.
"What if I just take you to my friend to patch you up instead?"
Emily glared at her. Why was she being so persistent?
"You got a real problem with caring too much."
She had never met anyone who was just as stubborn, if not more-so, than she was. This girl was a complete pain in the ass, but when she looked at her she could only see the good. And that annoyed her.
"I only care about things that are important to me." Alison carefully brushed Emily's hair behind her ear, leaving her fingers lingering against Emily's cheek.
Goddamn her. Emily let out a shuddering breath.
Alison's touch did things to her that she couldn't fight. She was like a mold of clay being shaped by the love in Alison's heart. She was completely helpless. She had faced off with killers and psychopaths, but she was no match for the blonde. And she knew it.
She hadn't had anything to live for in a long time, but she could tell that Alison was determined to be that one speck of light in the dark. Emily had a feeling she'd met her match…in more ways than one.
A/N: Oh, these two. Hospital sex and bar brawls. What's next? They've got some serious shit to work through, and their pasts...oof. Maybe Spencer is right. Maybe she's not. Either way, their pasts are bound to catch up with them in the worst way.