One
Six hours after Charlotte DiLaurentis was released from the hospital, she was murdered.
Aria knows that she should rush to Alison's side like the others. She knows that Ali needs the support, that Charlotte was the only family she had left. She knows that any sort of friendship that she'd had with Ali is probably going to be demolished if she doesn't reach out.
Aria knows all of this, and yet instead of ordering a bouquet of sympathy flowers, she reserves a plane ticket back to Boston. She makes sure Liam knows what time to pick her up from the airport. She writes and erases a goodbye text to Ezra four times.
Because the truth is, Aria isn't really sure if a real friendship even exists between her and Alison anymore. Ignoring the clenching in her stomach, she thinks back to her panic in the hearing room. In the middle of a flashback to the Halloween train, she turned her head to see Ali, her eyes downcast, her bottom lip jutting out in an unmistakable pout.
After Mona had made a sudden dash from the room and the judge released the rest of them, Emily, Hanna, and Spencer had gathered around Aria like mother hens. The concern radiated off of them. Alison had lowered her head, taken Dr. Rollins' arm, and strode out of the room, her gaze turned purposefully in the other direction.
And that wasn't even to mention the text. Great news! Aria deleted it almost the instant it appeared on her screen – in fact, she deleted their five-way conversation altogether. But Ali's enthusiastic words are still burned into her memory.
She knew it wasn't good news to them. She knew how they really felt about Charlotte, about her release back into society. And she'd seen with her own eyes how Aria's emotions had bubbled over, how her fear and anger had overtaken her desire to do as Ali asked and lie.
Ali knew all of this, and yet she'd still sent them all the digital equivalent of a bottle of celebratory champagne.
Aria zips up the back of her black dress. Then she zips closed her suitcase. She's going to the funeral, only because she knows that Emily, Hanna, and Spencer will all be there. She doesn't want her absence to raise any eyebrows. She set aside an hour for a final round of drinks at The Radley afterward, and then she's out of here.
Aria doesn't hear a knock at the door as she grabs her purse. And the doorbell definitely doesn't ring as she scoops up the keys to her rental car. Aria would have appreciated either warning before she opens the door to find Alison standing on the front porch.
"Oh my god." The keys slip from Aria's fingers. She stoops to catch them just before they hit the ground.
"Hi." Alison's dressed in her funeral attire, too, a lacy black dress that's as uncharacteristically conservative as the flowered skirt she had on when the five of them met in her classroom the other day. She's standing closer to the porch steps than to the door, as if ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
Aria blinks hard, but when her eyes open again, Alison's still standing there, still real. "Um…"
"Can I come in?" Ali blurts out.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course." Aria holds the door open and tries to smile. Just before crossing over the threshold, Alison glances back to the street, where a shiny black car idles at the curb. Aria can just barely make out a figure sitting behind the driver's seat.
Alison seems to notice Aria looking as she eases the door shut behind them. "Dr. Rollins is giving me a ride to the church," she explains. "I asked him to make a stop here first."
There are dark shadows under Ali's eyes. Her eyeliner is the slightest bit smeared, as if she hastily attempted to fix it after crying. It's obvious just how much Charlotte's death has affected her, and Aria can only imagine what Ali must be here to say. Aria's words from the hearing must be hitting her even harder now.
But when she gives Alison a closer look, there's no fire in her eyes, no anger. Instead, there's something that Aria has very rarely seen from Alison, something that she's not sure she has seen since that night in New York, so many years ago: The undeniable glimmer of shame.
"I needed to see you before the funeral to say that I'm sorry." The statement comes out in a rush. Alison isn't used to apologizing, and the words sound strange coming from her mouth.
Aria could end it here. But as much as, despite everything, she feels for Ali's grief, she wants to hear her say it. "Sorry for what?"
Alison's eyes drop to the hand-woven rug Aria's family bought at a market in Reykjavik. Its once brilliant reds and oranges have faded over the years. "I had no right to try and pressure you guys to lie for Charlotte. For me."
The words hang in the air between them. Aria can feel her chest tightening, her face heating up. It's as if hearing it out loud, right from the horse's mouth, has finally broken the dam that she's put up since she exited the courthouse.
"It wasn't what you asked us to do," she says, and she has to make a special effort to keep her voice low and steady. It's the only way to keep from screaming. "It was how you asked us to do it. Telling us you didn't care if we actually forgave her? That we should understand how you felt because we'd gone through everything together?"
At that last question, Ali's head tilts. "We did."
Aria's anger swells like someone has just laid a heavy box on her chest. "No. We didn't. You weren't there when we were being harassed by Mona every day of junior year. You weren't here for the masquerade ball, or the ghost train, or Ravenswood." She pauses, takes in a shaky breath. "You weren't in the dollhouse."
This last one seems to hit Alison particularly hard. "No, but I was the one who got you guys out of there, remember?
Aria wants to remind her that it wasn't so much Alison saving them as her happening to be there when they saved themselves, but she doesn't have it in her. The sooner she gets Alison out of her house, the sooner she can get this funeral over with and head to the airport.
"Ali, we don't have to do this," she says with a sigh. "I'm going back to Boston after the funeral. We never have to talk again after today if you don't want to."
Alison's eyes seem to narrow a bit at the mention of Boston, but the motion is over so quickly that Aria thinks she must have imagined it. "No. That's not what I want." She takes a step closer, and Aria resists the urge to back away. "We got off track. I'm here because, after what happened to Charlotte – " Her voice breaks as her face momentarily twists with pain. "I kept thinking about what happened at her hearing. At first I was angry. The others were all able to put aside the past and help me, why couldn't you? But then I realized…you did. You had every intention of going in there and advocating for Charlotte's release."
At this, Aria can't help but cut in. "But even if I hadn't, there wouldn't be anything wrong with that. It was my decision, Ali."
There's a long pause before Alison sighs. "Yeah. That's the part I'm still trying to come to terms with. But I've had to remind myself that just because I could find a way to forgive Charlotte doesn't mean I should have expected anyone else to do the same."
It's possibly the most genuine apology that Aria has ever heard come out of Ali's mouth. Certainly better than the so-called amends she'd tried to make when she first returned to town. And as much as it doesn't make up for the events of the past few days, there's a tiny part of Aria, buried deep inside, that feels a little wiggle of satisfaction that she is the one to receive it.
But externally, she just folds her arms over the velvet bodice of her dress. "Well, I appreciate that. And I'm sorry, too. I know how much Charlotte meant to you."
"I know it might not make sense to you, or the others." Alison reaches up, swipes a tear from the corner of her eye with one finger. "But she really did become the sister I never had."
There's something powerful in that statement, in Ali bestowing the title of "sister" on Charlotte. In the moment of silence that follows, Aria's mind flashes back to the last day of senior year, when the graduating class exchanged yearbooks and leaned against walls and desks to sign them. Not just friends, but sisters forever, Aria had written on the last blank page of her friends' books.
Did she write the same in Ali's? She's fairly sure she did.
Aria hopes the revelation doesn't show on her face as she shifts subtly toward the front door. "So I guess I'll see you at the church."
Alison's arm twitches, as if she's preparing to reach out and touch Aria's hand. But she seems to think better of it and offers her a shaky smile instead. "Yeah. I'm glad you'll be there."
She lets herself out, and as Aria watches her hurry down the path to the waiting car, she's surprised at the feeling of peace that's overcome her. It stings, the confirmation that Alison really doesn't see herself as part of the almost sacred bond that's developed between the group of girls – well, young women, at this point. But Aria thinks back, realizing that she's pretty sure she can count on one hand the number of times she spoke to Alison after leaving for college, and her surprise dims.
Even so, Aria lurks in the doorway long enough to see Alison reach the car and turn back. She raises her hand in a wave, and her lips twitch up into what Aria assumes is the most genuine smile she's capable of right now.
Aria waves back, slowly closes the door, and checks her phone to make sure her plane won't be delayed.
This is the first in a series of oneshots that I first wrote about six months ago. There are so many moments and interactions between characters that I would have loved to see in PLL, and this collection is an opportunity for me to write scenes that were either alluded to happening off-screen, or that I just feel should have taken place. At the very top of that list is this - some sort of confrontation between Aria and Alison after the events of 6x11. I always felt it was such a missed opportunity that we never got to see them hash out what took place at Charlotte's hearing.
I currently have one other oneshot complete, and another one about halfway done. Please drop me a review and let me know what you think of both this chapter and this concept in general. I'm always happy to consider any requests if any of you have any ideas that you'd like to share - I can't promise I'll end up writing it, but I'll definitely keep it in mind!