Author's Note: Hey everyone! Chances are, many of you who read this story when I posted it back in November have completely forgotten about it. It's been quite a while since I've updated it. Honestly, it's really difficult for me to stay on top of updating a story frequently now, because I am so used to writing professionally-people usually don't read my work until it's completely finished, not as I write it. Plus, my first book was published in January and it's been a whirlwind of book readings and signings and working on my next novel since then.

A lot has changed in the show since I started writing this story, so keep in mind that this is set after Emily and the other PLLs find Alison after they crashed the party in Ravenswood. I hope you all like it. :)

Chapter Five

My phone has eleven new text messages when I wake up the next morning. Three from Paige, two from Ali, five from Hanna when my phone was dead and I was out with Alison, and one from A.

"What's going on?" "Where are you?" "Why did Hanna just call me in the middle of the night?" All from Paige, one right after another.

"A knows that we've been meeting. Have to be more careful from now on." "I miss your face. Your scent. Your hand in mine. I miss you. See you soon xo," from Alison, this time from a number that isn't blocked. I smile to myself and try to forget that I have a text from A waiting for me as well.

Hanna's texts are not worth reading because she shared her true feelings last night. But A's...

Was blank. Nothing? When has A ever mistakenly sent a text, blank or not, to anyone? I don't know if I should be worried or relieved, but I don't have much time to think about it, because I quickly notice that I'm the only one in my bedroom. Aria, Hanna, and Spencer are nowhere to be found. I hurriedly throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and barrel down the stairs.

"Shit, she's coming!" I hear Hanna mutter from the kitchen. "What do we do? Send her back to bed?"

I push open the kitchen door and stare at Hanna incredulously. "Really, Han? Send me back to bed, like I'm a toddler who colored on the walls?"

"What? No, Em-," Spencer began, but Hanna cut her off.

"I-we wanted to make you breakfast in bed. As an apology for last night," Hanna said, looking genuinely apologetic. I glance around and notice muffins, eggs, and fresh fruit. "We shouldn't have cornered you, Em. We're sorry. I'm sorry."

I clear my throat and look at the ground, feeling almost embarrassed. "It's okay. I forgive you. And I'm sorry for sneaking out...I should have just told you where I was going." I pause, admiring all the good food in front of me. "So should I go get back in bed, then?"

"Nope, it's already done!" Hanna says, proudly offering me a blueberry muffin, my favorite.

For a few moments, life feels normal. I pile my plate full of eggs, fruit, a muffin, and the bacon that had been hiding in the oven and chow down, thankful for good friends who had taken over my kitchen. We all eat in silence, except for the sound coming from Hanna's phone as she types out a text.

"Who are you texting this early in the morning, Han?" Aria says with a playful smile.

"Caleb," Hanna responds, putting her phone down on the table and taking a sip of orange juice.

But immediately after, my phone vibrates in my lap. Looking down, I see that it's a text from Hanna. Sneaky. "I really am sorry. I was jealous that you got to see Ali, but green isn't a good color on me. I'm more of a turquoise kinda gal." I laugh inwardly and respond with a text of forgiveness.

"We need to hurry up and finish eating, guys. We have to meet Ali in less than an hour," Spencer says nonchalantly-well, as nonchalant as Spencer can be, anyway.

I nearly spit out my juice. My thoughts are racing faster than I can voice them. "We're meeting Ali? According to whom? Where? When? How did this come about?"

The three girls look back and forth amongst themselves, obviously confused. Aria is the one to explain. "Didn't you get a text? We all woke up with messages from Ali, asking the four of us to meet her at Mammoth Point at 9am. It's 8:15 now."

"How do you know that it's really Alison? Why would she want to meet us in broad daylight? It could just be a trap. It could be A, or-," I rant, but Spencer cuts me off.

"Relax, Em," she begins before taking a long gulp of coffee. "I called the number that she texted us from. It's really Alison. She wants to meet us to talk about how we can help her get home."

I don't say anything. Instead, I take the last few bites of my breakfast and begin loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. The faster we get the kitchen clean, the faster we can get to Alison. Nevermind the fact that I'm confused about why I wasn't told about our plans to meet Ali sooner. Nevermind the fact that I just saw her hours ago. I am so anxious to be by her side again.

I'm quiet on the way to Mammoth Point. The other girls are talking excitedly about how great it will be to see Alison, to hug her. I want to agree, but I'm afraid I'll spill the beans that I have already been seeing her privately, and Aria and Spencer still don't know about that. So instead, I sit in the backseat and send a text to Alison, asking her why she didn't text me along with the other girls.

She responds almost immediately. "Didn't want to wake you. You're coming, right?"

I smile and text back, "Guess you'll have to wait and see ;)."

I decide to let it go. There's no sense in getting upset about something so small, like not receiving a text that she sent to the others, when we have bigger problems. Much bigger problems-like how we'll get Alison home, or how I'll end things with Paige when the time comes. Problems like figuring out what Aria is lying about, or putting an end to the A-Game. It will be so nice to have Ali home and to put all of this behind us. Maybe she'll be my actual girlfriend, one day. Maybe I'll be her full-time lover, and not just a girl on the side.

We pull up to Mammoth Point and I nearly trip as I climb out of Spencer's car in a hurry. I consider taking off down a path ahead of the others, but then realize that I have no idea exactly where Ali is.

Hanna voices the same concern that I'm thinking. "Okay, where the hell are we supposed to meet Ali? There are like, a thousand paths here and I don't want to be eaten up by mosquitos before we even get to her."

"It's November in Pennsylvania, Hanna; I think it's a bit too cold for mosquitos," Spencer says, rolling her eyes as she takes the lead ahead of us. "She said she'll be down the path painted red."

"Red, with blood? Creepy," Hanna says quietly with a shiver.

"The sign is painted red, Hanna. Probably with paint," Aria retorts as we all make our way past the sign in question and down the pathway toward Alison.

It's about a half-mile hike, but we finally find Ali sitting quietly in a small clearing by an abandoned toolshed. She doesn't say anything as we approach her, and neither do we, but Alison practically looks through the other girls to lock eyes with me. We both try to hide our smiles. I impatiently wait as the others hug her, and then I finally pull her into my own arms.

"I missed you," I whisper into her hair, though that much doesn't have to be a secret from the others.

"I missed you too, Em," she says hoarsely.

We follow Alison into the toolshed, where she appears to have been camping out for at least a few days. It breaks my heart to know that she's been residing here, without any form of heat, while I have been living a comfortable lifestyle in the suburbs. I make a mental note to purchase a small space heater to help keep her warm. We all take a seat on the cold floor, except for Spencer, who stands at the window to keep an eye out for A. I hug Alison's pillow close to my chest, hoping the other girls don't notice that I'm breathing in her scent.

"Thank you so much for coming here, you guys," Ali says, hands clasped in front of her. "I know you're taking a big risk by seeing me."

"We would do anything for you, Ali," I say, and I hope that I'm not speaking for myself.

She smiles fondly at me before continuing. "I need to come home, but it's not safe. There are so many people that I've been running from-CeCe, my mom, and so many others. I wish I could go back and tell the truth about everything and go back to the way things were before, but the truth is, I'm not that person anymore. And telling the truth won't help anything, it will just dig my grave even deeper."

"Don't joke about that, Ali," I say defensively. "Don't joke about graves, or death, or murder. It's not funny."

"I never said I was joking, Em," she says softly. "There are dangerous people out there. You of all people should know that. All of you should know that. Now, the key to getting me home is to have an explanation that will keep me out of trouble but will also let CeCe off the hook."

"What?!" Aria questions. "I'm not worried about protecting CeCe Drake, Ali. I'm here as your friend, not hers."

Hanna and Spencer nodded in agreement, but I knew more of the backstory. If Alison came home, CeCe could easily frame her for whatever terrible thing CeCe did the night Ali went missing. If she has an alibi for both of them, we might all come out of this alive and well.

"Just trust me on this, Aria," Alison begs. "I promise I will make it up to you."

Aria looks knowingly at Alison-they have some sort of unspoken agreement, but I can't tell what it is. I want to ask Ali later, but I doubt that will be a good idea. Sometimes I don't want to know more than I have to.

For the next half hour, Alison shares pieces of her story that I have not yet heard. Some things I already knew. Details are missing, and we all yearn for a more complete description of that horrible Labor Day weekend, but Ali only tells us what is necessary in order for us to help her fabricate a lie. For a moment, I'm happy that Ali isn't capable of creating the lie on her own, and that she has to come to us for help. The old Ali would have created a magnificent story, starting with the Jenna Thing, or perhaps even earlier than that, and then filled us all in with the falsified details. But that is no longer the case, it seems. Instead, we're all the masters of lying. We're the masters of Ali's own game.

I feel a sickening knot in my stomach, and I zone out, missing part of the very important conversation that is swimming in the air around me.

"Em?" I hear Ali say, and I finally snap out of it. "Emily?"

"Yeah? Sorry, I was just...thinking..." I say apologetically.

Alison smiles and starts to say something, but Aria interrupts. "We're about to head out. I have plans with Ezra, and Ali needs to find a new place to camp soon, in case A followed us out here."

The others stand and head out the door, but I linger inside with Ali. I call out to them, letting them know I'll follow behind after a few words with our friend-in-hiding. When I see that they're a safe distance away, I close the door quietly and pull Ali into an embrace. My lips lock with hers and she sighs into me. Being with her is like breathing, like taking a sip of water after being dehydrated for days.

"Something's wrong," Ali says. When I furrow my brow in confusion, she clarifies. "Something is wrong with you. You've been acting funny all morning."

"I just..." I begin, but I don't know where to end. She has her arms around my waist and I wrap mine around her neck. We fit together so naturally. "I don't like sharing you with the others. It's been nice these past few nights, having you all to myself. I'll get over it eventually."

"Maybe you don't have to," she whispers. No one is around, but we've learned to act as if A is always listening.

"What?" I laugh quietly. "Of course I have to. I can't continue being jealous of my friends-our friends-spending time with you. That's ridiculous."

"No, I mean," she says, still whispering, "When I pulled you out of that barn, the day I kissed you..."

"When you said I was your favorite," I say, my whisper matching hers.

"I always say you're my favorite. Every morning when I wake up, I think to myself, 'That Emily...she's the one. She's my favorite person, my favorite thing in the whole world." Ali's grin is taking over her entire face. She means it, every word.

"I love-," I say, but she puts a finger to my lips.

"Let me finish," she says. This is one reason why I know that she has changed. The old Ali, pre-disappearance Ali, would never stop anyone from saying that they love her.

I sigh and let her continue, kissing her finger before she pulls it away.

"When I pulled you out of that barn, I asked you to run away with me." Her voice cracks. This is hard for her, and I'm not sure why. Is she scared? "I realize now that the timing was off. You had just escaped a terrifying death, your brain was probably cloudy from the carbon monoxide, and you didn't even really know I was alive."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Where is she going with this?

"I don't care about coming home, Em. I care about being loved. And no one-not my mom, not Jason, not the other girls-none of them love me like you do. All I care about is being with you. Being loved by you. Being held by you. And being there to love you right back." Ali pulls away from me now, looking at the ground. I look down, too, surprised to see our feet planted firmly on the floor of the toolshed when I feel as if I'm floating away in the clouds.

"I don't know what to say, Ali, I..." but I trail off. Where are my words?

"You don't have to say anything right now. You can think about it for a few days and then let me know your decision," she says, taking my hand in hers. "I want you to know that I am in this either way. If I come back home, I will be with you so proudly and treat you like you deserve to be treated. People used to call me Queen Alison, but the truth is, Em, I am just a peasant compared to you. You are royalty."

I lean in to kiss her. How can I respond to something so kind and genuine? I hungrily deepen the kiss, moving one hand to the back of her neck and placing my other hand to her lower back so that I can pull her closer to me. But I feel a hand on my chest-not there to explore, but rather, to stop me from going further.

"I...Em," she gasps for breath. "There's more, okay?"

I separate myself from her and nod, allowing her to continue.

"I know who A is, and there is no way I can bring that bitch down. None of us can," she chokes out. "And that's why, in my opinion, our safest option is to run away together. We can go to Paris like we once planned. Or Rome. Or, hell, we can go to Mexico for all I care. I just...I need to be with you. And if I go back home, I'm not sure if A will allow us to be together. I know I put on a brave face for the other girls, but truth be told, I don't know that I can face Rosewood High again, not with A lurking in the halls. It would be safer if..." She trails off, knowing I understand where she's coming from.

But again, I don't say anything. I search her eyes. Never before have I seen so much honest-to-God fear in those beautiful DiLaurentis eyes. I lower my head and she does the same, our foreheads touching. I try to kiss her but I know I need to speak. "What about my parents, Ali? Am I just going to fake my own death like you did? Leave them a note with their morning coffee? No offense, but my family is much closer than yours ever was. It would break them, destroy them..."

"Em, I understand. I get that you're worried about your parents, and I'm sure you're worried about the girls too. But A ran a fucking car through your house, almost killed your mother. Wouldn't it be better to let them live a somewhat peaceful life? We can work something out. Maybe you can write to them occasionally, or call them. There are ways to make it work. I just...I can't begin to imagine what A will do to them if we stick around."

I nod slowly-not agreeing to run away, but agreeing to the fact that we haven't seen the last or the worst of A yet.

"I'll let you know soon, ok?" I say, my voice small. "For now, I have to go. The girls...they're probably wondering about me."

She nods, understanding that I have to leave. We kiss goodbye. I realize as my lips touch hers that I still kiss her as if I'm afraid I'll never see her again. I make a silent vow to never stop kissing her like that, and then I leave the toolshed and walk away, not looking back at her.

When I get to the car, the girls tease me about my alone time with Ali. They can tell we're mending the broken connection, nurturing the romance that was never allowed to grow or develop years ago. But they don't know the extent of my love for her, or her apparent love for me.

I think back to that moment in the shed when I saw so much fear in Alison's eyes. I think about what it would be like to see that fear every moment of every day, when we walk the hallways at school, when we crawl into bed every night, when we read to each other in the library or sit on the kissing rock in broad daylight. I think about what it would be like to see that fear go away for good.

I think about Paris. Rome. Mexico. I think about being hers, for good. No A, no reservations. I think about loving her beyond reason.

And without thinking further, I pull my phone from my pocket and type a single text to the number that I had quickly memorized earlier in the morning.

"I'm in," I type. "When do we leave?"