It was already dark outside when Spencer decidedly knocked on the Marins' kitchen door twice, then a third time in case the first two knocks hadn't been heard. A serious expression on her face, she considered what kind of eye-job she could've had done in order to look at Hanna in a truly-sorry, truly-innocent manner. But there was no surgery to fix guilt and anyway she'd never been the kind to look truly innocent, not even when she was innocent, which wasn't the case anymore. She was a little nervous about the whole apology-talk. Determined but nervous. A part of her was certain Hanna was still going to blow her off no matter how sorry she was. Another part of her missed Aria's reassuring presence. Yet a third part of her (given her multiple-personality Hastings disorder) knew that the fastest way to forgiveness for Aria and Emily consisted in whatever shewould say to Hanna and in whatever Hanna decided to say back to her tonight. Not because Aria and Emily wouldn't be forgiven soon without this intervention; forgiveness for them probably wouldn't take long. However, Spencer had come to realize that their mere existence as a group, hence all their possibilities to beat A and win the war, depended on this conversation between them, on Spencer's capacity to show Hanna she did care about the way she'd hurt her and about how she could make it up to her.
No one was coming to open, so she thought about going to the front door and ringing the bell.
She didn't consider walking away.
If she left the Marins' like an ashamed, terrified dog, tail between legs, it would be after having the conversation with Hanna, not before.
Her hand hesitated to knock again before her body started moving towards the front door right at the moment when she saw the all-too-familiar dark, tall figure crossing the kitchen. Spencer saw her through the transparent spaces the blinds left open to her sight. Emily. For some reason, she felt even more nervous. She was prepared to confront the blond rays and the greenish lightning for the fourth time ever since Hanna exploded in anti-Spencer rage, but not the sight of a estranged girlfriend, even if she knew they both lived in the same house. Emily was right about her: she only saw a part of reality, the part she was really focused on (and everybody had to admit it was considerably extensive, as well as deep and structured), but sometimes she also missed the whole picture. Emily lived, breathed in the whole picture; flooded over the whole picture in tsunami waves even when Spencer somehow managed to push her out of it so she could solve another matter of the highest importance. That was Emily. That was Spencer.
Emily opened the door in recognition and surprise.
"Spencer", she greeted, and she did light up in that special sunny-but-magnetic way of hers, even though she was looking exhausted, her carbon eyes ghostly and plain, "come in."
Spencer came in the kitchen, a small smile on her lips. She was certain the same effect she'd seen in Emily was happening to her: regardless of how irritated she seemed lately, her face was suddenly lighting up like a Christmas tree or fall in New England.
"Hey there."
That was indeed the most articulate form of greeting she could think of.
Emily grabbed her hand, a natural gesture that wasn't followed by the natural kiss.
"Why didn't you text me to say you were coming?"
Right.
In yet another proof of her inability to look at the whole disposition of things, she had forgotten to tell Emily she was coming tonight.
"I'm actually… I'm here to talk to Hanna."
Emily closed the door behind her without letting go of Spencer's hand.
Still no kiss, though.
Spencer wondered if she should lean in and just do it herself, but she didn't. Her mind was focused on Hanna; or was trying to keep focused on Hanna anyway.
"You're gonna try again?", Emily asked, frowning with her characteristic mixture of empathy and concern. "If I'd known you were coming I would've asked Ms. Marin to let me have dinner with you."
"Yeah, sorry", Spencer apologized, crappy-girlfriendship written all over her face, "is she here?"
"Ms. Marin?"
"No, Hanna."
"Yeah", Emily confirmed, rolling her eyes like Hanna's presence was an insufferable annoyance. Normally she stayed in the library if Hanna was going to be home, so she could study at ease. Then she examined Spencer's face in detail. "You look tired."
"You too."
Emily squeezed Spencer's hand upon hearing her response, because they both were indeed feeling tired, and Spencer saw faint sparks rising and starting to fly around them like a sudden, ever-growing explosion of light. She wondered if she'd had too much coffee again, or if her findings about Jenna at the School for the Blind were subverting her judgment. Perhaps it'd been her conversation with Aria about Emily. But the sparks were still flying and the tsunami waves were flooding the room and she could feel all of it. For once, she wasn't going to deny it in the name of bitterness and sarcasm and pride.
Sparks.
Waves.
No kiss though.
She should keep focused on Hanna's (absent) light.
Sure.
Spencer decided to lean in and catch a spark on Emily's lips. The spark felt abrupt, probably too cold and awkward, but it still made her legs weaken and her stomach tighten in response. Damn Aria. Damn Emily. When she pulled away from the sparkling kiss, which had been as chaste as ever, Emily's features looked more vivid, not as tired and defeated as they looked before. Maybe it was the spark. Maybe Spencer retained some sort of amazing power in her sexy dictator-detective pocket. Maybe it wasn't only Spencer that was flooded over and drowned by Emily's mere presence in front of her eyes. Maybe it was just love.
"Did you guys find anything?", Emily asked, her voice livelier too. "About that receipt."
"Yeah, I did", Spencer proudly replied, "I mean, we did. Or I did, cause it was after Aria left."
Emily smiled and suddenly her expression turned sly, like it used to be before everything turned bad.
"Yeah, about that: maybe you can explain why Aria sent this text to me a couple hours ago."
She pulled out her cell phone, looked through it and showed the screen to her.
It was a picture of the window where Aria had drawn the heart with the question about Team Sparia or Team Arily. There was a text that only said "I'm letting you choose before A gets the chance to ruin it." Apparently she had decided to photograph her mouthful-of-breath masterpiece and send it to Emily, perhaps as a way to try to provide sex for Spencer.
Oh, Aria.
Spencer smiled crookedly.
"What about it?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm asking. What about it?"
"Well, did you answer?"
"Sure I did", Emily replied, trying to hold her cards, "Team Arily. But everybody knows it'd be Team Sparia if it had to be real."
"Really?"
Emily didn't look away. She was examining her in curiosity.
"So you were having a conversation about different teams or what?", Emily asked, and it was the first time in two weeks they were mentioning the evil-word team without getting weird. "Are we gonna split now? I hope you remember she doesn't play the same team you do."
Were they flirting?
Yes, that was definitely a flirty line.
It was also the first time in two weeks they were fooling around. Ever since that day they made out.
"I do remember that, actually", Spencer answered, "cause it's difficult to forget when all she ever talks about isEzzzzrrrraaaaaaahhhhhh." She repeated the joke in the exact husky tone she'd done it with Aria, hoping to gain the most brilliant smile. The smile appeared on Emily's lips and Spencer was again hit by that melting, burning, drowning feeling. "But you chose her, so does that mean you wanna keep her? For your own team, you know."
Emily leaned against the wall, curious but trying to keep her own mystery. Not that she actually had to try. She was her own kind of mystery, an easy-yet-complex mystery to solve still, sparks and waves and look-aways and kindness and warmth. Spencer felt like she was always slipping from her hands, even though she actually had her, knew her, guessed almost everything that ever crossed her mind, was enveloped in her body and wired to her mind. Still… Emily.
"Is this like choosing basketball teams?"
Emily asked the question in suspicious, playful mode, another spark crossing her eyes.
"I suck at basketball."
"Me too", Emily agreed, letting out a giggle, "and she sucks too, so what's it all about?"
"Why did you choose Team Arily? That's what I wanna know."
"Just so you and Hanna can work things out", Emily found her way out of the trap, "so?"
Hanna.
She should keep focused on Hanna.
But Emily was still curious. And there was the slightly playful, flirty, hopeful tone.
Emily.
"Aria's just trying to make one of us jealous." Spencer opted for the truthful route without giving any explicit information. "It's a joke."
"No kidding."
"I kinda see it's working with you, though."
Emily raised her curvy eyebrows and batted her long lashes in a move both beautiful and enigmatic.
Emily.
Emily was curious, Emily was gorgeous, Emily was mysterious, Emily was flirtatious.
Emily was Spencer's whole picture.
Emily was (still) Spencer's.
Forget Hanna. No, but she couldn't forget Hanna. Hanna was part of the whole picture too.
Yet Emily was right there in all of her insane beauty, suddenly so reachable and warm and playful as she always was or used to be, even if exhausted and kind of cloudy in a way it wasn't so usual, at least not before everything turned bad, and they were flirting like they hadn't flirted in a while. It was a little awkward, but it was coming so naturally. At the same time, Spencer also knew the illusion could be broken any moment, a foot misplaced, a word misunderstood or poorly chosen and it'd be over. It'd probably be over soon, given their recent inability to really engage in themselves and their picture.
"No, it doesn't work that way", Emily said, smiling slyly again, "and anyway that's sort of what I figured she was trying to do, I just wonder why."
"You'll have to ask her if you wanna know", Spencer replied, feigning innocence in an obviously wicked way. "So how does it work?"
Emily looked away, searching for an answer. She always did that when she was trying to find the most amusing response. She looked away for a brief instant, almost unconsciously because her intention was to maintain eye contact, then blinked rapidly as if to disclose her ideas to herself before staring back into Spencer's eyes. It wasn't the same way of looking away when she was feeling troubled or shy. It was different.
Spencer knew the expression, had it memorized in every little detail by now.
The whole picture of things.
The little, microscopical details of things.
"It's Aria", Emily said as the only explanation, locking eyes with Spencer again, "it just doesn't work."
"She's gonna be terribly hurt when she hears you say that."
It was amazing and a little unexpected, but Emily smiled and this time it wasn't sly, it was… wide and dazzling like sunburn, like she could be happy, like she was actually happy now.
"No, I love her", Emily argued, "and she knows that. But, I mean, it's Aria. She's a friend. Plus she's, like, obsessed with Mr. Fitz. And there's nothing gay about her."
Spencer leaned against the same wall, gaining the chance to get a little closer.
"Yeah, that's more or less what I said."
With other words and in another order, that was exactly what she'd said.
Emily nodded, trying to seem thoughtful and serious.
"So am I supposed to get jealous? Cause I don't have that much of a gaydar with Aria."
Again, a slightly playful tone came out in Emily's question, along with a clear tinge of curiosity about their conversation. She did want to know. Aria's text had surprised her.
"Which means you have a gaydar with other people?"
"Only with you."
That was a direct one.
"You don't get gay vibes out of anybody else?"
"Not really", Emily shrugged, "Mona's weird sometimes, but I don't think weird equals gay."
Spencer laughed, and it felt like she too could be happy.
"I'm not sure I want my weirdness compared to Mona's, no, in fact, I'm totally sure my weirdness doesn't compare to Mona's, but thanks for recognizing this strong, powerful gay vibe I'm putting all my effort in sending out", Spencer answered, speeding up on the flirting limits, although the thought of Mona brought Hanna back to her mind. But she was flirting with Emily and she didn't want to stop it right now. "So I guess I am supposed to get jealous because you actually picked Aria for your basketball team."
"Only so you wouldn't pick her. I didn't have much of a choice."
Oh, so now it wasn't about working things out with Hanna.
Gotcha.
Spencer's iron heart grew wings and started to fly around the room in such wild joy she forgot she was here to apologize to Hanna's light for all the damage her iron determination had inflicted on their friendship.
"I'll always pick you first, you know that", Spencer assured, trying to get a speed-flirt ticket, "you're taller."
"Yeah, I know. I'm definitely taller."
Now it was Emily who tugged at her jacket to steal a chaste kiss to her lips.
Well, maybe Aria hadn't managed to get her sex life back, but she had certainly improved the ratio of flirting and chaste kissing. Good for Aria.
"So how was your day?", Spencer asked. "Did you get a lot done?"
She saw the tiredness and the sombre cloud return to Emily's body.
The illusion was shattered, the spell was broken and the light trembled, circuits failing - the room darkened.
The fatal combination of words.
A simple question about the day.
That was how things were lately: they couldn't even share small, ordinary talk about ordinary things without getting awkward and weird and uneasy.
"Yeah, kind of." Emily looked away. This time it was the troubled way. "Some."
Like a curtain sliding shut or a blind rolling down, Emily closed off and shut down, although her fingers were still playing distractedly with a button on Spencer's jacket.
"I can help you", Spencer offered, and it wasn't the first time, "on the weekend."
"No", Emily refused to accept, and it wasn't the first time, "you really need to sleep and get your own homework done, Spencer."
"It's still…"
"So what did you find in Philly?", Emily interrupted. "Anything really important?"
A.
Always something to do and someone to discuss. Spencer wanted to help Emily. Homework was her territory. Emily had a point, because it was true she needed to sleep and to get her own homework done, but Spencer could still help. She could do everything. She would do anything. But there was always something else to do, someone else to discuss, and all the roads were blocked except the A-road.
"It depends on your definition of importance", Spencer answered crisply. "I didn't bring A's head in a bag, but we're getting pretty close."
The problem was they had been getting pretty close for almost a month now and the phrase was starting to feel overused.
Emily smiled a little faintly.
"I was gonna look inside your bag."
"Actually I brought something inside my bag, it's just not A's head… yet."
"What is it? Jenna's?"
That was impressive: Spencer showed it by raising both of her brows in admiration. Emily's sixth sense wasn't only for gay people. She was convinced Jenna was the origin of all of A's doings, much like Spencer was also convinced of it, with a touch of Jason, even though Emily knew Jenna wasn't the person she'd chased in the woods and was sure Jason hadn't been that person either.
Spencer started unzipping her satchel to show Emily the guestbook she'd stolen at the School for the Blind. But then she remembered there was a reason why she'd come to the Marins' and she just couldn't forget about it.
Hanna.
Iron heart, iron cage, knock-down eyes, know-it-all Spencer.
Smart-ass Spencer.
Emily.
Emily.
Emily.
Her iron-caged-heart wings withdrew into themselves again, the flight stopping dead.
"I really wanna try with Hanna first", Spencer said flatly, "do you mind if I tell you later?"
Emily nodded, looking a little taken aback, and retrieved her fingers from Spencer's jacket.
"Sure", she said, "I have to finish a chapter anyway. I totally hate this Ibsen play, by the way, it's so annoying."
Spencer considered offering help again, but decided against it.
"I hope she doesn't kick me out of the house."
Emily smiled as if to provide encouragement.
"She's cranky today."
"Yeah, like every day."
"She hasn't kicked me out, so she won't kick you out either."
But that was different.
Emily was Emily and Spencer was Spencer.
And Hanna was Hanna.
And everything in life was just so freaking complicated.
"I won't kick any of you out, I'm not like you."
The voice flowed away as abruptly as it had first appeared, passing by the hallway that gave entrance to the kitchen.
Spencer almost gaped at the rapidly vanishing blond figure and melodious sound.
"That's the longest sentence she's said to me in a week", Spencer managed to utter once she stopped gaping, loud enough to be heard by Hanna, "and I hope it's not the last one."
Emily shot her another sympathetic look and squeezed her hand in reassurement.
"She'll come around."
"Or not."
"You want me there?"
"No, I wanna do it alone."
Emily seemed to understand, because she didn't ask why.
"Anyway it's not like she's talking to me either", Emily complained too. "Will you come upstairs later and tell me about Philadelphia?"
Spencer nodded. "If she doesn't kill me first."
"Ask for help if you need it."
"I'll scream if she slaps me Hanna-style."
Emily smiled in complicity, squeezed her hand once more and turned around to leave the kitchen on her way to the stairs, while Spencer watched her fit, slim figure disappear behind the door, unable to stop herself from ogling greedily and sighing nostalgically at the disappearing sight of the troubled tsunami sun.
Emily.
Emily.
Hanna.
Iron.
Courage.
Spencer inhaled deeply, allowing the lungs to swell and grow in (self-imposed) confidence and (nearly honest) humbleness. She walked out of the kitchen towards the living room, where she supposed Hanna had gone after realizing Spencer and Emily were talking. After taking a few steps, her ankle boots tiptoeing almost as if she was walking barefoot, she saw her friend sitting on the couch, knees bent against chest in a defensive, yet comfortable position. She was contemplating a mute MTV music-video program about Katy Perry. Spencer wondered why the sound was not on if Hanna was so interested in listening to Katy Perry's hit list. Maybe she was watching only to check her outfits and draw out some ideas for her own future fashion design line, although Spencer hoped it wasn't the case, because Katy Perry's clothes were always kind of awful, in her (not so modest) opinion. Or maybe she was just trying to listen up to Spencer's moves in the house.
"Hey."
Speech, thy name is Hastings.
Hanna turned around and her eyes immediately narrowed.
"I don't see Emily here."
"That's probably because you're not blind."
What was with blindness today?
Spencer walked some more steps into the room, hoping the lack of yelling was already a promising sign.
Hanna turned to continue looking at the silent TV.
"If you're coming to say sorry, you can leave, Spencer. I'm not taking it this time either."
The logical thing would have been to stop in the middle of the room and stand her ground from there. But Spencer had a more aggressive approach to logics, so she continued walking and sat on an armchair in front of the couch, a cautious but direct move that allowed her enough distance to face Hanna and enough closeness to avoid Katy Perry's mute-singing on the screen.
"I need to talk to you."
"You already talked to me many times."
"Then I'm gonna try again."
Hanna directed her eyes from the TV to Spencer's sitting form, her arm defensively grabbing a pink cushion that matched her linen pink trousers and placing it between her chest and thighs to act as yet another barrier between them.
"Well, save it", Hanna shot. "You're not forgiven. Bye."
"Fine", Spencer sighed, keeping her quiet composure, "I'm not forgiven. Hi."
"I'm sure you can live with it."
There was a caustic, disbelieving air to the words because Hanna knew how hard it was for Spencer to take constant rejection. And, still, there was something honest too; something she believed about the words, about the fact that Spencer would find a way to live without Hanna's forgiveness, the same way Spencer found a way to live with every bad thing that ever happened to her.
Spencer nodded in resignation.
"Okay."
"Stop playing nice and quiet. It doesn't go well with you."
Spencer bent down a little, resting her elbow on her thigh and her chin on her hand while she continued staring at Hanna, who continued pretending to look at Katy Perry.
"Hanna", Spencer finally called in a soft, weak voice, "Han, okay. You don't wanna forgive me, that's fine. But will you please just listen?"
"No", Hanna replied, eying her again, "now get out of my living room."
"You said you wouldn't kick me out."
"I'm just kicking you out of this room", Hanna claimed, "that's more than you did for me."
Spencer considered begging even if begging was not exactly what a Hastings would do. Anyway, she wasn't the typical Hastings anymore. She wasn't so sure about what that meant anymore either. She was still finding out.
Beg.
Crawl.
Hanna was so hurt and it was their fault - mainly it was her fault.
"Please."
"Begging doesn't look good on you either."
See? Hanna realized it too. However, even if it didn't look good on her, Spencer knew when she'd done wrong, and doing wrong to someone she loved didn't look good on her for sure. She wore it badly. She'd worn it badly when she'd done Toby wrong… for a while, at least. For a while. But Hanna was different. This was different.
"I don't care if I'm not looking good right now."
Hanna glared, annoyed and hurt - showing it.
"Don't try playing nice-and-sorry with me, don't come here all crybaby cause it's just not your style, okay?" Hanna raised her voice, and Spencer wondered if Ms. Marin was somewhere nearer in the house. "You made your decision, now you just live with it."
"Okay", Spencer repeated, a little out of breath because her eyes were starting to sting in actual crybaby fashion, "okay, I try to live with it, but you still have to listen to me."
"No, Spencer, I don't have to, cause I don't take your orders or your apologies anymore."
Spencer felt the accusation sticking really close to her heart.
"Fine, that's fine too." She raised her own voice a little, losing part of her composure. "You don't have to do anything, Hanna, but I…" She struggled with everything she'd been thinking this afternoon. With everything she'd talked about with Aria. "I amsorry. I'm sorry I did it to you, okay? I did it for us, I did it for you too, I did it cause we were desperate."
"That's not an excuse", Hanna replied ruthlessly, her eyes reddish too. It was always so easy to see through crybaby-eyes in people with clear eyes. It was so easy to see them break down. Easier than it was with dark-eyed people, with knock-down-eyed people. "Cause we've all been there, Spencer, we've all been desperate, me too."
"I know."
"Anyway you didn't do it alone. So don't worry, you can share the blame with them."
"I don't wanna share the blame, I wanna talk to you."
"Well, I don't wanna talk to you, so bad luck, huh?", Hanna shot again, "you kicked me out, now just leave me out of it. It should be easy."
She shrugged her shoulders, pretending to make it look easy, but her clear eyes were too red and her face was too congested and her sweet, singsong voice was too nasal.
"It's not easy", Spencer answered, "I didn't wanna do it, Hanna, I wasn't trying to…"
"You did it. That's what matters. You did it."
Spencer swallowed the growing lump in her throat.
"I did."
"You did."
Repetition.
They were stuck.
Aria, where are you in my head now?
"I'm sorry I hurt you of all people", she managed to say, "with everything we've been together and all the ways you've helped me, Han."
Now the glare was truly blood-injected red, all clear blues gone.
"You could've lashed out at me for destroying the flash drive, Spencer", Hanna accused, "but what did you do instead? You just… you pushed me out like it was nothing. You left me out."
"But it was something!" Spencer almost yelled, but then kept her voice down in fear of Hanna's mom. "Look, I know it wasn't… maybe I should've screamed, okay? But leaving you out seemed like the fastest road to catch A and Caleb agreed with it and I took it, and I took it for you too."
"Well, good luck to you and them, Spencer, and have a safe fast trip to A-land."
"I want you back on board."
Hanna burst out in a dry, brief laugh.
"You're funny."
"I'll stop the whole thing if that's what you want me to do."
"What?"
Hanna leaned forward now, embracing her defence-cushion, and Spencer almost couldn't believe the words that had come out of her own mouth.
"I'll stop everything. I need you back."
"You're lying again, you know that's something you're never gonna do."
Maybe she was actually lying. She wasn't totally sure. Hanna was probably right and all she'd be able to do was find another way to set things in motion while sort of luring Hanna back in the game. But she needed Hanna. She couldn't do this without Hanna.
"We can't… I won't do this without you."
Touché.
Hanna's rage seemed to waver in confusion for a moment.
"So first you push me out and then you want me back? You're really getting weirder without me, Spencer."
"You can hate me as much as you want, but please come back."
"I won't come back", Hanna quietly said, looking away to Katy Perry again, "I'd rather hang out with Mona, at least she's not playing around with me and my life."
"You think Mona's gonna get you out of this?"
"We're never gonna get out of this."
Impressed by the drop-dead serious fatality of Hanna's words, Spencer swallowed and, for the first time in the conversation, felt the need to look away too. She did, letting her eyes rest on one of the chairs next to the dining table that the Marins never used anymore ever since Hanna's dad left (they usually had dinner in the kitchen), then in Hanna's defensive pink cushion, trying to encourage herself to find the words she wanted to say. They would get out of this. They couldn't lose all hope. They would get out of this. They were getting so close. Hanna was right: Spencer wasn't going to stop this. But Hanna had to come back.
"I'll protect Caleb with my own life", Spencer stated, her voice firm again, "he's one of us now. I'm not just using him, Hanna, I promise."
Hanna shot her a cutting, daring look.
"You can't protect him enough, Spencer. You can't even protect yourself, you can't even protect her."
And by her she meant Emily. They both understood.
The new stab reached the center of Spencer's heart, and she flinched in pain because Hanna also knew where to hit when she wanted to.
"Maybe I can't totally promise that, you're right", Spencer admitted, her voice weaker now, "but I'm gonna try and it's gonna work."
Her Hastings pride reacted like a retorting body in the agony of the fight. You don't go down without saying all you have to say, you just don't. You say all there's to say, you do all there's to do, and you do it truthfully and valiantly, heart and mind. Then you can go down.
Only then can you go down.
Hanna watched her closely, this time less cuttingly because she knew where she'd hit.
"It's not only him I was protecting, Spencer."
Spencer frowned in confusion, opening her mouth without uttering a sound. This she wasn't really expecting.
"Is there… Are there more things A has against you?"
Hanna looked elsewhere, like she didn't know where to send her eyes anymore, before confronting her again.
"Don't we all have more things, Spencer? Isn't that the reason why Emily actually quit?"
"I… But I know about Emily's… What is it?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"Because I can't tell you."
Spencer closed her mouth, then opened it again, then closed it. Thoughts were rushing through her mind. It had to be something… something Hanna had done or something someone else had done. Not Caleb, but someone even more important, someone…
"Your mom."
Hanna seemed honestly scared and offended by the words.
"No."
It was her mom: there was something Hanna was trying to keep from A or that A was using against her and her mom.
Spencer tried to think fast.
"But that's one more reason to come back on board, Han, I'll…"
"You don't get it", Hanna cut her off, "you don't know… it's…"
"Does Emily know?"
"Nobody knows. You don't know either."
"Caleb?"
"I had to tell him a small part of it… just to make him understand."
"Can you at least tell me the part you told him?"
"No."
Fuck!
Why not?
Okay, it made sense. If it were her, she wouldn't tell a family secret that could hurt her mother or father so easily either, even to one of them, just in case it might get things more complicated.
It made sense.
It made sense.
Now think.
Fast.
"Han, I'm serious, we're breaking down without you and you're breaking down without us too."
Hanna looked at her as though that approach could never really be successful.
"You already broke me", she deadpanned, "when you decided to get me out of this while you lied to me in my face."
Spencer nodded emphatically. "I know."
"Then why did you do it?"
"So it was better to just ignore you?", Spencer protested, representing her case, "was it better to just leave you out of it for real? I didn't want you out for real, Hanna, I was trying to keep you close."
"You were all icing me out and I knew something was wrong!"
"I was the one who tried to keep you close!"
That was why she'd picked up the calls, why'd she'd met her for a movie, why she'd lied to her in the face. She didn't really want her out of it. She was trying to control the consequences of their temporary secret mission while she found a way to get Hanna back inside again.
"You're a crappy liar, by the way."
"I…"
"But it's true, at least you answered your phone. That's typical you." Hanna made a pause, thinking about it. "Just put me down like I'm some kind of dying animal while you're holding my hand to my sweet death, like… the Black Widow or the Angel of Death or whatever those people are called. Just be the good, compassionate Spencer Hastings after stabbing me in the back so you can make peace with yourself later."
A dictator. A black widow. An angel of death. A veterinary?
Come on.
She was trying to keep Hanna close, not to get rid of her!
"The black widow?", Spencer complained. "And anyway… do you see a lot of peace here?"
Hanna leaned back, the cushion-barrier suddenly left aside.
"I'm not coming back."
"Well, that's bad, cause I need you back and I'm not giving up."
They stared at each other, tears still stinging their differently shaded eyes.
"I'm not gonna hug you to make you feel better."
"Does that mean you're gonna come back?"
"No."
Spencer sighed. "They need you too, Hanna."
"You mean Emily."
Spencer's heart twisted in agony again.
"Yes", she accepted, "she listens to you, and Aria too."
"Sure."
"I mean it", Spencer said, "Em's already having a rough time and you're not really talking to her… so it's just getting worse."
"I've already tried talking to Em, okay? And it doesn't work."
"After getting angry, you mean?"
"Before and after", Hanna explained. "Maybe I didn't use the best way to approach her after, but you can't blame me cause she's a traitor too. And they all follow you around like you're …" She dedicated a couple of seconds to think of something awful to add to the murderous veterinary, the black widow and the angel of death. "You know, that weird flute guy from that children's story… Hamelin or whatever."
What the hell?
Now she was the Pied Piper of Hamelin-Rosewood? She was never good with the flute! She wasn't even good with children… and certainly not with rats.
"Okay, Han, fine, I get it", Spencer retorted, "I'm a murderous, lying… magical-music bitch."
"And they're your slaves and your minions and your little monkeys."
"And I'm sending them to their death, right?"
They exchanged a meaningful, somehow timid look.
"Whatever."
Spencer crossed her arms, leaning back on her armchair and loudly groaning before re-focusing on the conversation.
"What did you say to her?"
They didn't need to name the person they were talking about.
"I told her to stop pretending she was a nerd and to move her ass back into the pool. She didn't tell you?"
Spencer shook her head no. "She's not being very talkative about that kind of thing lately."
"Yeah, I know."
They looked at each other again in sudden understanding and, in that brief instant, the pure matter of a millisecond, an infinitesimal particle of time and space, everything changed between them. Spencer didn't know what or why or how. Maybe it happened because they were talking about Emily, or maybe it was because Spencer had taken all the bad names Hanna had dedicated to her without really losing her nerve, or maybe it was because they were really the best allies the world could ever imagine without actually finding a way to figure them out together, they were apparently so different and radically opposite as day and night, yet they managed to understand each other pretty well. Even after Alison disappeared, when everybody ran free to their own little corner of the world and Hanna became the It Girl and Spencer became the Stiff Nerd she was somehow destined to be, while Aria just left and Emily retracted into herself, they were the ones who kept talking in some sort of distant, amicable complicity they couldn't easily let go of.
Maybe it was because Hanna missed Spencer too.
"I need you back", Spencer repeated, pushing after perceiving the obvious change of mood, "I really do."
Hanna leaned forward again.
"What are you gonna do about her?"
Hanna sounded really concerned, and Spencer knew all the barriers had fallen down. No pink cushion. No backstabbing. No black widow or Hamelin flute. There was nothing between them but their red-injected eyes and their common strength.
Their surprising, conspirational alliance.
"I don't know."
"I don't think she's really studying that much", Hanna explained, returning to her informant-role, "I mean, she puts up a good show for my mom so my mom will tell her mom, but I look at her and I just know she's not really thinking about it. There's no way she's gonna get a scholarship like this, Spencer."
Their secret alliance.
Hanna.
Emily.
Emily.
Emily was so troubled, didn't talk, didn't formally accept help. She looked the same, was still warm and kind, only a little more tired and a little less eloquent, but was struggling so hard and Spencer didn't really know how… Spencer's eyes filled with so many more tears than she could manage to choke down in a single moment that she was forced to deploy all her capacity for raw, bloody cruelty to fight them back.
"Yeah", she croaked, hardly controlling her voice, "yeah."
"You need to get her back on the team", Hanna insisted. She seemed to have been thinking a lot about it too. "She's totally gonna flunk and her parents are totally gonna freak out."
Swallowing, choking the tears down, the raspy voice re-emerged.
"I'm trying here."
"Well, can't you just order her to do it?"
"Sure, cause Em works like that, right?", Spencer sarcastically replied, managing a little control. "If I order her to go to the pool she'll probably never even drink water again."
Hanna actually smiled at that.
"You could at least tutor her like you tutored Toby. You're good at tutoring all your boyfriends-girlfriends."
It was Spencer's turn to shoot a watery-eyed resentful look.
"She doesn't let me. I already offered, like, a million times."
"Well, get someone else to do it."
"Who?"
"Just think of someone smart like you. Your sister. She's smarter than you."
"Oh, come on!"
"She's a bitch too."
"Stop trying to piss me off like that. I'm not gonna change my mind about getting you back."
"What about Lucas?"
"I don't think learning a few Star Wars dialogues is gonna make such a great difference in her academic life, Hanna."
"Well, sorry, Ms. Hastings, but it's you who should be tutoring her and pushing her ass down in the water."
Spencer looked down ashamed, knowing Hanna was right and it should be her.
It really should be her.
"I'll offer again", she said, knowing it wouldn't work anyway, "she's not gonna flunk… she's just probably thinking about A and the swim team too much."
"She's a pain in the ass like you."
"Thanks."
Hanna stared thoughtfully, letting her back rest on the couch again, her posture so much more relaxed now.
"She's trying to save you", she finally said, "both of you, your relationship."
Spencer nodded, admitting to it but unable to even croak a yes this time. The sight of her helplessness might have been pathetic enough to actually make Hanna move, because she stood up and crossed the distance to Spencer's armchair. There she crouched down and put her transparent-pale hand with her polished pink nails (pink everywhere) on Spencer's knee, which caused Spencer's not-so-transparent-pale hand, with her polished dark-cherry nails, to hesitantly advance and cover Hanna's hand.
"Are you coming back? Cause I really, really miss you."
"You can't live without my detective heels, huh?"
"I can't live without your noisy detective heels."
"I always knew you loved them", Hanna joked, lifting her head to try to get a direct look of Spencer's face, because Spencer was looking down at their nail colors. Then Hanna frowned in fake mockery as she touched Spencer's blue-and-white plaid shirt under her gray sweater. "Why are you even wearing this? I thought you'd given all of your plaid shirts to Emily?"
"That's not gonna work to piss me off either, Hanna."
They both smiled at the same time.
"I actually like this one", Hanna admitted, "it's sort of nice and classy."
"I know you love my style. I'm always nice and classy."
"I love it when you actually follow my advice. I know how to pick your clothes."
"I'll let you take me shopping if you come back."
"We'll see."
"You're just playing hard to get, but you don't fool me. You want me and my money to go shopping."
"There's not enough money on earth to buy the stuff I'd make you buy."
"Whoa, you do really want this so badly. I'm a better shopping-friend than Mona, aren't I?"
"Mona's not a backstabbing friend."
"But she's annoying."
"You're annoying too. And a nerd."
"But I'm all sorts of nice and classy. I win."
"Shut up, Nerd."
They laughed now, knowing they had signed the peace treaty. Well, they had actually signed it a while ago and they both knew. However, Spencer was actually quite a soft, warm person despite all her sulky, irritating leader ways, and she was in desperate need of a formal, soft-and-warm signature of peace, so she leaned down and hugged Hanna tightly. She felt relief washing over her body, like she'd accomplished something great even though there were so many other great hardships that still needed to be overcome.
Emily.
When they separated, Hanna's eyes were even redder, but she was a strong girl. She wasn't easy to break. None of them were.
"I'm sorry too", Hanna murmured, her voice cracking as well, "about the flash drive."
Spencer nodded. "I'm sorry about the backstabbing and the lying in the face."
"You win."
They laughed again, and Spencer rubbed some tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I should leave now."
"What did you and Aria find in Philly?"
"How do you know we went there?"
Hanna's eyes glinted in mischief. "I heard you talking to Em. What did you find?"
"An interesting piece of shit about Jenna's old School-for-the-Blind days."
"Are you gonna tell me about it?"
"It depends. Are you back on board now?"
"You always need to hear it, right?"
"You do know me so well."
"I am back on board."
Spencer smirked in satisfaction.
"Thank god."
"Thank me."
"Thank you."
"So? Jenna."
Spencer was opening her mouth to tell Hanna all about her discoveries when she remembered she'd promised to tell Emily about them too. Emily, who was upstairs pretending to finish a chapter of that Ibsen play and hating every second of it. Emily, upstairs, hiding herself. Emily, the whole picture; Emily, the little, microscopical details.
Emily.
Emily.
Emily.
The tsunami wave, the sparkling, dazzling, insane black-hole sun.
"Why don't we go upstairs and I tell you two about it?"
"No", Hanna denied, shaking her head like it was obvious the story had to be told in different departments, "you probably wanna spend some time together… and, you know, kiss-kiss while you share the Jenna details."
Together.
Kiss-kiss.
No.
It was better if the three of them faced the ordeal right now. It'd be easier too. Spencer was really tired, Emily was too, and it was better to tell the story once (or twice, because she would call Aria later to inform her of the actual importance of The Receipt; also to tell her about the Team Sparia versus Team Arily results regarding Emily). Besides, it would do Emily good: getting Hanna back was something Emily also needed, probably much more than a kiss-kiss session that wasn't going to happen anyway.
"No, c'mon up", Spencer insisted, standing up and grabbing Hanna's arm, "she's gonna be happy to see you there."
Hanna lighted up like another kind of sun.
And so the two of them started the path upstairs to Emily's troubled study cave.
A/N 1: There's some rewriting of 2x18.
A/N 2: theninemuses7: :) I figured that, since they included the "Sparia" comment as canon-friendship-teasing, I should definitely include it too... Besides, I like to play around with that dynamic Spencer and Aria have. And yay for Sherlock and Watson! Plus, I LOVE playing with the real plot in the show and making it as Spemily as I can manage.
sieamberc: don't worry about not reviewing! Everyone has a life. Mmmmm, dirty doesn't necessarily mean really "dirty"; it's just that connection, that chemistry.
LaughLoveLiveXx: I totally agree Spencer listens to Aria in ways she wouldn't listen to other people. Also, I think she really does have a different chemistry with every one of the girls; which is also what I'm trying to show in this chapter. You're always one to catch up to the key meanings in the chapter... and, yes, they are struggling, and Spencer definitely blames herself or feels the burden of responsibility, which is also the burden of leadership, which is going to be important regarding the next chapters. But I'm not sure Emily actually resents the girls... You'll see how Emily feels about it next chapter. But there's definitely a part of Emily that is searching for the approval of the Hastings. That's totally right. The party's not happening yet... There are two previous chapters to the party.
spicy Emily: Wow! You read "Speeding Up" again? Thanks! There's some Spemily here... not enough, I guess.
anon: yes, I'm sticking to season 2... although I couldn't avoid including a season 3 tip (the Ibsen play), but the main storyline will continue to be TOTALLY about season 2. We'll get Emily's insights about her situation and the team next chapter. Thanks!
dmpanda5: :))) Thanks again. I hope the Spencer-Hanna interaction was also satisfactory. I actually really enjoyed the fact that they didn't mention sex once in their whole conversation... showing there's actually a lot more to their friendship besides their teasing each other.
Mona: again, merci! So you prefer Emily's "perspective"? Maybe I still have to work harder on the Spencer chapters... I did try to work harder on her "voice" for this one after reading your review! I try to write Spencer as more analytical, but also more obsessive, whereas Emily's tone tends to be more intuitive? Yes, the idea is that A's causing a total breakdown between the girls, but it's not so easy to break them. Spencer's a good leader. But we'll see... A's not done with them yet.
IxHeartxGlee: :)) Glad that line made you laugh! What did you think about Hanna? And, always, THANK YOU. Yes, I'm busy as hell... shouldn't really be writing this right now, but that's what I'm doing! xD Let's just say Spencer's reflections on living on coffee are in this case very autobiographical LOL
x-sugarfree-x: Hannily... I always try to include lots of Hannily-friendship moments... but, yes, we WILL see an important Hanna-Emily interaction towards the end.
Thank you guys so much.