A/N: Here we go... Thanks to my really helpful and patient beta, Maxi-Luca. And thanks everyone who's still reading this. And I'm sorry.

Summary: Because of a text from A threatening to reveal some information about Peter Hastings, Emily confronted the Big Man and ended up promising him both help and silence. Then she met up with Mrs. Fields and with Spencer for dinner, found out about Spencer's mistake with Princeton and, thanks to a lie about her ulcer and Wren, managed to convince her mother to give her two more weeks to go back to the team. She came back to the Marins' only to find another message from A threatening Hanna and Hanna's mom and forcing her to choose.

"Have you guys seen Emily?"

Books hit the surface of the table, causing a dry, opaque noise against it. The Advanced Chemistry on top crumbled down, carrying along others in their common fall, a castle made out of heavy cards and engraved sand. Hanna raised both of her brows, quizzically.

"Someone's in a bad mood."

"And someone's not answering my questions."

Judging by the darkish circles around the eyes of the Nerd and by the lines marking her forehead, it seemed whatever was going on with Spencer today was more than a crank. Spencer looked like she hadn't gotten any sleep. So that meant bad news. And it was only 10.15 in the morning, and it was a Monday, and Hanna had a History test in two hours. There was no way the world could get worser on a grim rainy Monday morning. Besides, Emily had also been weird this morning. Hanna had tried to wake her up with a pillow assault and a happy birthday scream which Emily had received with a shit-face, almost as if she were turning thirty and not seventeen. Well, to be completely honest, more than weird Emily had turned out to be sick, because she'd spent part of the next twenty minutes in the bathroom, vomiting. So, at least, she had a good excuse not to be nice. Not only that, Emily managed to be nice even when she was grumpy, just by sending those perfect doe-eyed signals that usually did the job for everyone, including her.

"What's with you two today?"

Immediately catching on the you-two remark, Spencer sniffed information with her terrier snout. "Did you see her? How is she?"

"Hello, Spencer?" Hanna waved her hand to state the obvious. "I live with her."

"Can you just answer the question?", Spencer demanded with a scowl. "Or is that too much exercise for you?"

"She was feeling sick when I went down for breakfast."

Spencer's expression changed from one of tired frustration to another of outraged concern. "And you let her come to school?"

"I'm not her mother, Spencer, and I'm not mine either", Hanna defended herself, crossing her arms from her position in the table next to Aria, whose eyes were getting bigger at their exchange. Spencer was scarier when she was standing up with that crazed sleepless caffeine-induced look on her face. "I told her to stay in bed when I saw she was puking, although it's more like I heard her puking while I was getting dressed, so I had to run the hell outta there, but…"

"She was puking?"

"Yeah." Hanna's skin grew a shade of untainted pale, as if she had suddenly turned around to look back at what had happened this morning just to be transformed into a statue of salt. Maybe she should have used violence to force Emily to stay in bed. It was too late now. "In the bathroom, this morning", she squealed, "I thought something she ate yesterday made her sick and…"

"But she didn't eat that much."

"I don't know", Hanna argued in exasperation, "but I told my mom about it."

"Why didn't you tell Emily to stay home?"

"Spencer, I told her to stay, but she said she was fine."

"Because throwing up is such an obvious sign of great health, Hanna", Spencer growled angrily. "You know how she is."

"She is a normal person", Hanna fired back, "she's not like you, she doesn't love school."

"Hanna, she is not normal these days."

Hanna shut up, feeling defeated. It was always the same. Since Hanna was the one living with Emily, it was up to her to keep a watchful eye on Emily in order to inform Spencer. She was getting tired of the role, because they both made it so hard, but at the same time she couldn't just shake it out and pass it on to Aria. It was her duty as a friend to both of them.

"I saw her in class", Aria intervened, offering Hanna a hand, "and she looked kinda fine."

"Kinda?"

"Spencer", Hanna cut in, "can you just tell us what's wrong?"

"Yeah", Aria said, "and maybe you can also stop blaming us for it."

Spencer plopped down on the seat, her menacing demeanor shifting back into one of frustration. "Sorry." She looked smaller and less powerful once she was sitting, and she reached out her hand to grab Aria's cup, peeking inside to see if there was still coffee. When she saw the remains, she drank them, not caring about Aria's thick brow-raising.

"Hey." Aria knew about Princeton, so her brow-raising was sympathetic. "We're listening."

But this was not about Princeton. Spencer had a bad feeling. "I haven't seen her today, like, at all, and it's her birthday", she explained in a rough, sleepy voice, "and it's weird because… we were together yesterday night and it's…" It was weird. Today was the official birthday. She'd texted her at 12.01 last night, she'd tried calling her in the morning right after getting up and then she'd expected to catch her in school to no avail. Emily was gone.

"It's only 10, Spencer", Aria dismissed softly. "We have English together."

"I know."

Spencer bit it like she would bite a disgusting rag. She knew Emily well enough to notice when it was weird not to catch a sight of her at school, especially after a night like yesterday's. Emily had said I love you before saying goodnight and at that moment it had been sweet and Spencer had melted in drool upon hearing it (you are so mine it hurts, Spencer had thought before saying it back, I love you too, I love you too, I will always love you too), because words of love didn't hurt, they didn't hurt after being so lost and so jealous (true, and also so insecure) during the last weeks, words like that didn't hurt, she wanted them to echo in her ears and she wanted them to sweat against her skin (on top, below, in every form and position and, yes, she also meant sex), but seeing it in front of her face did hurt – in a blinding, aching kind of way – when it surged through her like a crave of the body and a delirious hunger, you are so mine, Spencer thought in wonder, you are so mine, it was still a fact of life, it was right there. Emily was looking tired and anxious while she spoke, trying to spot the car in the parking lot and calculating the seconds they still had to steal a real kiss before her mother came back, her almond eyes blazing with unspoken care and want, the same crave and the same hunger, and all Spencer could think when Emily said love was mine, mine, mine, I love you too, I love you too, I will always love you too. That was what kept her awake in bed. It had sounded way too emotional, and the emotion with which Emily had spoken had raised a rash of ache and worry during the night. Literally a rash, because Spencer had woken up with a reddish eruption on her left thigh. But, since too much emotion seemed to rule their lives lately, she tried not to make too much of it; she also tried not to think too much of anything else, like Princeton and her parents and the way her academic life would consist from this day on in an endless struggle to make it to Harvard or Yale so her parents wouldn't kick her out and disown her. However, this disappearance from earth was a clear sign that Emily was hiding somewhere else, from everyone: it had happened too many times already for Spencer to ignore this was the way Emily chose to run away from trouble. Therefore, if Emily was hiding, the conclusion was that she was freaking out big time: about dinner, Princeton, Wren, about going back to the team in two weeks, about the HGH, about leaving Rosewood for Texas and about every one of the million things Emily had reasons to freak out about after dinner yesterday. On top of it all, Hanna had just said Emily was sick, but then again Spencer didn't believe Emily would avoid her if that was the cause of the problem. Perhaps she was engaging in a conversation with Paige about how well they understood each other when it came to getting sick and swimming and coming out of the closet. After all, they were friends now. But Spencer dismissed the thought of Paige. She should probably go look for Emily instead of snapping at Hanna, who was, after all, her best ally when it came to Emily's hiding tendencies.

Spencer glanced up at the blonde. "She should go home if she's feeling sick, Han."

Hanna smiled a little at the more communicative attitude. "How was dinner?", she asked, since she couldn't get the information from Emily either yesterday or this morning. "I mean, did it go well without Mr. Fields there to save your ass from big monster momma?"

"It depends on how you look at it."

"I'm looking at it right now, and you have dark rings under your eyes."

Spencer shot a murderous glare. "I don't even know how to answer that question." Because it was too complicated to explain.

Aria leaned forward, her small, delicate hands on the table tending to recover her cup. "Mrs. Fields gave you guys a hard time?"

Spencer thought about dinner again. "It was worse for Emily, but I think we sort of managed some damage control." If damage control meant adding more difficulties to their life, yes.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning at least we have two more weeks to sort the situation out", Spencer explained, "and meaning Mrs. Fields thinks Em's having problems with her ulcer again."

"Seriously?"

"And we have to get Wren to help."

"Whoooo", Hanna said, lifting her hand, "she's gonna love that, no wonder she got sick."

Spencer wondered if Emily wouldn't be feeling better in Texas, away from all of this.

"I hope she doesn't really get the ulcer back", Aria added thoughtfully, "you know, because of that."

"How is that gonna work to give her the ulcer back?" Spencer reacted badly, because it felt like an accusation. "What do you mean?"

Aria shrugged in innocence. "Stress."

"Well, it's not gonna be the same", Spencer cleared up, more to herself than to Aria, "with Wren at least."

"You better mean that", Hanna winked in complicity. "Last time she almost dumped you."

Spencer didn't even have the energy to glare at Hanna. She wondered if Emily had gotten sick because of Wren. But it seemed unlikely. Probably it was a combination of factors, Wren being one of them. This time they'd talk to him together.

"I'll figure something out."

"So why didn't you sleep tonight?", Aria questioned too. "You look like you need a bed."

"But nor for sleeping, right?" Hanna directed her clear gaze back to Spencer. Apparently their sexual abstinence was obvious to the world. "Tell Emily to give you some." She stopped to think of her words for a moment. "Although it should be you, you know, making her happy."

That hurt.

"Happier", Aria corrected. "Spence sang brilliantly and Em loved it, and then they made out."

That hurt too, surprisingly.

Spencer could hardly believe she'd rejected Emily – it – sex. She wouldn't probably have a rash if she'd had sex on Saturday. She should be taking care of her health – and of Emily's.

"You did get some, huh?"

"No", Spencer curtly answered Hanna, "and I don't think I can get any if she's throwing up in every toilet, Hanna."

"Okay, gross." Hanna made a face of disgust. "You don't mix up sex and puke, it's like… no."

"It's your fault."

"All I'm saying is life would be easier for all of us if you were worn out because you're having birthday sex and not because of whatever Mrs. Fields is doing to you."

"Guys", Aria called for peace, "easy."

"You know", Spencer decided to answer instead, thinking of a quick solution to her needs, "I'm just gonna text her again and see if I can get a hold of her before the next class."

"Cool", Hanna approved, "send her home. Have sex. Make her happy."

"In your bed."

"No way", Hanna exclaimed in horror before recovering a wicked composure. "In your dreams."

"In my dreams I'm having sex in your bed."

"With me?"

"That's in your dreams."

"Maybe if you looked like Caleb you'd stand a chance", Hanna bantered back, "although you're kinda manly when your voice gets sleepy like that."

"Because Caleb is known to represent the absolute epitome of masculinity."

"The what?"

"The epitome of masculinity."

Hanna looked puzzled. "If you really want me to smash you like I know you do you're gonna have to speak my language."

Spencer rolled her eyes, allowing the eternal banter with Hanna to soothe her soul. "It is your language." But then she remembered Emily. Emily, who was not here to roll her eyes too, or to smile that little knowing smile when they bickered mercilessly. "Never mind."

"I hope you're not insulting Caleb with that episode thing."

"Epitome."

"Whatever", Hanna said, "but you're not insulting him, right?"

"I'm not insulting him, I'm just saying…" She wasn't sure she wanted to start a discussion about Caleb's manliness, especially if it was going to be compared to her voice and her plaid shirts which Hanna actually loved, as she had already confessed. "Never mind, Hanna."

"You better not insult him cause he's got something for us tonight."

Spencer's heart raced. This was what they needed. More leads. Two weeks. "Yeah?" She could feel her eyes burning in response, and Hanna's little twinkle replied accordingly.

"That's what he said."

"What is it?", Aria asked. "Did he tell you?"

"He wants all of us to see it."

"I'm gonna text Em."

Pulling the phone out while Aria explained the meaning of epitome with another word Hanna didn't understand (paradigm), Spencer typed a text asking Emily to meet her at the lockers because Caleb had A-news for them and because it was her birthday and it was mandatory.

"I'm leaving."

She started the camel-walk in the desert towards the lockers, but Emily never answered or even appeared close to them. Now, this was a bad sign too. This was a very bad sign.

Her thigh was itching.

She ran to Chemistry after the bell rang, but when Emily arrived late to English all the alarms set off inside her brain. This Emily was not the Emily she saw yesterday. Haggard and ill-looking for being tan-skinned, caramel-cream Emily, this Emily was not kind of fine, this Emily was not simply stressed and tense because of her mother and everything else, this Emily walked almost hunched to her seat, several rows behind Spencer, without as much as a reassuring glance or a soothing smile, without as much as an indescribable air of melancholy or natural absent-mindedness, this was another person walking slowly after mumbling an inaudible apology to Mrs. Montgomery. Her eyes were puffy. That meant tears, crying, crying. Helpless anger at Hanna and Aria took over, no justice, no pity, no nothing, everything is wrong, everything is wrong, and Spencer turned around in her seat to glare at Aria, who shot back an interrogative look and a shrug of her shoulders, it was not their fault, it was not their fault, it was not their fault, but they noticed the problem too. Spencer texted Emily again, regardless of the consequences, an act which gained her a word of reprehension from Mrs. Montgomery. She didn't care, not right now, and if she could she'd just jump over the desks and grab Emily's collar and ask her; instead, she discreetly returned the phone to her satchel, a good student, no, the most brilliant student who wouldn't make it to Princeton anymore. There were other (good) universities. Teachers loved her because she always paid attention, even when she was thinking about Emily, since she started thinking about Emily months ago. AP Emily. AP Emily. She was alone in that class. Not even Hanna and Aria were there. Only Emily and a bed and a restroom and maybe a storage room too; food and coffee; pre-application forms to Harvard and Yale so she wouldn't forget about the future; no parents, no swim team, only a pool, or the lake to calm down. AP Emily was not about loving a challenge. AP Emily couldn't always be about the perfectionist Spencer, about the Spencer who strived for greatness and grace because Emily Gracious was by her side; it had to be about Emily this time; Emily who wouldn't even so much as glance at her, or at anybody, anybody, anybody. Her panic increased so much that attempting an apology to Mrs. Montgomery for her blatant act of disrespect was not even taken into consideration; instead, she decided on extreme Emily-measures. Spencer moved fast the second Mrs. Montgomery finished telling them the fragments they had to read for tomorrow: snap the book shut, under the threshold in no time, wings growing in her back, iron, drool, crave, you are so mine, you are so mine yet everything is wrong and I am not stupid, it's not Paige's fault, it's no one's fault, but it has to be someone's fault, Spencer got a hold of Emily's pulsating wrist, dragged her to the corner next to the restrooms and trapped her there with no possibility of escape. Cave-man style. Beast-style, bitch-style, pull-off-your-hair-because-you're-mine-style, only this was serious. This was really serious, and Spencer had to bite her lip hard not to scratch her thigh, not to care about everybody's curious glances in the halls.

"Why aren't you answering my texts?"

"What texts?" Emily searched for her phone a little frantically. "I was in class."

"We're always in class."

"I'm not feeling very good."

The words softened Spencer's heart while simultaneously hardening it. Everything she was seeing made her feel like the world was spinning too fast, too fast, too fast.

"Let me give you a ride home", she begged, "cause you're obviously feeling bad and you shouldn't be here today."

"No, I wanna go to class."

Sometimes Spencer wished she could rip the stubbornness out of Emily. Only this wasn't stubbornness. This was worse. This was worse. This was suffering.

"I haven't even had a chance to tell you happy birthday yet, Em."

Emily gave her a little smile, but her eyes looked clouded, rivers getting drought, diamonds like heavy rounded stones, a cloud, a cloud, a big black cloud pregnant with unborn rain. No signs of dreams and lively sins in her flutter. Nothing resembling hope.

"Tell me now."

Her voice sounded weak too, a small little voice, girly and cute, but strained.

"Happy birthday."

Spencer felt Emily's fingers on hers, offering a gentle sign of her presence. "Thanks."

Another smile tried to reach her lips, but there was just a general air of sickness and defeat around her, and Spencer felt terror, not insecurity or powerlessness, not even fury at her lack of understanding and control, just pure, utter terror because something was wrong. The saving parachute of Spencer was pushing them both directly to the ground. High speed. High speed death. She told her, she told her it was going to kill them. A car hitting a truck, or two bodies falling fast. There was a reason not to get one's hopes up after a good day or a good night or a good instant. Spencer just didn't know the reason, and if she didn't know the reason she couldn't fix the problem and, therefore, they were going to crash and the fall was unstoppable. She scratched her thigh, breathing in to encourage a sense of possible control.

"What's wrong, Em?" Emily's health was the only question not aggressive enough. "You need to go home if you're sick."

"I just really need to get some rest this afternoon."

"Let me take you home, please."

Emily shook her head, but seemed to really look her in the eye for the first time since they started talking. Spencer saw pure exhaustion mixed up with pain.

"Have you talked to your parents about Princeton?"

"Not yet."

Emily seemed on the verge of crying for a moment. "Are you feeling okay?"

Spencer didn't know what to answer. "I have a rash", she let out, "on my thigh."

"A rash?"

"On my thigh. I had it this morning when I woke up."

Emily frowned in concern. "Can I see it?"

"Later", Spencer promised, smiling a nervous smile at the thought of showing her upper thigh in the middle of school. Like they weren't putting up a show for everybody already. "It's not that bad."

"You're nervous", Emily diagnosed. "How much coffee have you had?"

"Not too much", Spencer lied. "Anyway there's no proven correlation between caffeine and a rash." She wondered if Emily, Mrs. Fields and Princeton could actually cause a rash, though.

"You should go to the nurse's office."

"And you", Spencer took the chance to say. "Hanna said you've been throwing up."

Emily nodded, pursing her lips and looking away. "I gotta go."

"Wait."

"We have class."

"Are we gonna see each other later?" Bargaining for later seemed the only way to have a talk about this.

"Yeah, I just…" Emily looked everywhere, halls and people and walls and the floor, but not at her. This was a really, really bad sign. She squeezed her hand tighter, though, as if trying to communicate this way. "There's something else I wanna do later."

"Something else?"

It hit her like a brick in the head or Newton's apple: something, someone, Pam Fields, lies. This was a lie.

Emily disentangled herself from her own hand-squeeze.

"I'll tell you after class."

"Am I even gonna see you after class?"

Emily gave another nod as she walked away. Spencer let her go, and then proceeded to have a heart attack that didn't kill her right on the spot.

This was a lie.

This was A.

This was fucking A.

What the fuck was A doing now to lure Emily into getting the HGH?

Spencer locked herself in one stall and vomited into the toilet. Now both of them were sick and throwing up. What would Hanna say if she entered the restroom and heard her? Not that she was moaning and whimpering because of lesbian stand-up sex, that was for sure. Restrooms. Stalls. Sex. Sex. Sex. Texas. Emily should just leave for Texas, perhaps. A.

Garrett, Jenna, Ian (dead), Noel, who else, who else, who else, who else?

Caleb had a clue.

Tonight, tonight.

Maybe it was already too late.

She pulled her cell out and looked through her old messages.

Second best.

Not talking to you but talking to her.

She'd been so easy to pick on with her stupid jealousy.

Are you gonna let her drown? You know what you have to do, Spencer. Don't cling, don't cling - it's selfish. Provide a solution. It's not about being efficient, it's about doing something. Keep Toby safe. Keep Toby safe.

It's not romantic.

She bent down and vomited again.

Lady MacBeth.

Lady MacBeth.

Breaking hearts, breaking hearts.

There was no way she could make it like this to French, so she decided to hide in her SUV until Emily had to walk to her own car. If she could only get a hold of Emily's phone to see whatever A was doing to her now… but there was no way Emily would let het get close.

It was pouring down.

The steam accumulated inside the car and she drew houses, a shark and a dog with a tail on the window, when all she wanted to draw was a bullet for A's head.

How many heads?

How many heads?

She tried calling Caleb, but he wouldn't pick up. Whoever would have thought he was formal enough to ignore his phone in class. Freaking hobos. Freaking formal hobos.

You're not the kind of girl who runs out to breathe for air.

It's the same.

Friends and lovers, it's the same, it's the same - but it's not the same.

Mine, mine, mine.

The rain became a drizzle just when people started crowding the parking lot.

Emily walked to her car under her purple umbrella, the same clouded pain on her face, but her expression turned anguished at the sight of Spencer leaning against the driver's door. When she was close enough, Spencer opened her mouth and let it pour out like the rain.

"What is A doing to you?"

If Emily could get livid pale, she did after hearing the question. She fumbled for her keys, trying to find them inside her backpack.

Finally she looked up. "Nothing."

It was a lie.

"I'm not gonna keep asking forever, Emily", Spencer threatened, but the next thing she did was ask again. "What is A trying to get you to do? What does A have?"

Emily frowned intensely. "This is not about A, I'm just having a really bad day." There was an unlocking click when Emily opened the car, but she didn't dare approach the door.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth."

"I'm telling you the truth", Emily snapped, and this time she did approach the door, almost boldly, also furiously, "so it'd be nice if you asked properly."

"I already asked properly", Spencer fired back, "I've basically tried to get any kind of answer from you all day."

"I'm feeling sick."

"But you have to go somewhere and it's not home", Spencer accused. "Give me your phone."

Emily widened her eyes. "What?"

"Give me your phone."

"You're kidding."

"I am certainly not kidding."

"You are not the police."

"So just spill it", Spencer raised her voice. "I'm gonna follow you around if you don't say it."

Emily bit her lip, looking both outraged and resigned. She took her phone out of the pocket of her rain coat, unblocked it and handed it over to Spencer.

It was too easy.

It was too easy.

Spencer eagerly opened the last texts. Texts from her. Welcome to seventeen. Where are you. Meet me in the lockers. A-news. I love you. I love you. Aria. Hanna. Nothing.

"You erased them."

"Will you stop doing this?", Emily begged in a commanding voice. "Just let me be, okay?"

"Let you be what?" Neither of them was going to go down without the cruelest fight, but the words hurt anyway. "Let you be dead? Let you cheaton me?"

Emily rolled her eyes, not so very convincingly. "I told you I'd never do that." Her voice trembled slightly, though. She would never do that. Shehad already done that, but it didn't work out, and they got A's phone, and they had sex, and what else - everything else.

"Then what are you going to do?"

"You're going crazy, Spencer."

It hurt anyway.

"Believe me, I appreciate the courage you show when you do everything A wants you to do", Spencer sarcastically offered with a sting of her own, knowing the courage remark would create some turmoil. "But I'm still right about this and you know it."

Emily stared at her, blinking the raindrops away. "Let's get in the car", Emily said in a softer tone, "we're gonna get sick."

As if they weren't sick already.

They got inside the car and Emily turned to her. "It's not what you think." Her words sounded careful but the rest of her face was not lying. It was what Spencer thought. She had to get tougher and curb Emily's determination or else they were lost.

"This is the last time I'm asking you, Emily."

"The last time you're asking me what?"

"Where the fuck are you going?", Spencer barked. "What's with A this time?"

"I am going to swim some laps to Aquinas college, all right?", Emily barked in response. Her bark was broken but angry. "So will you just leave me alone for a while?"

It actually made Spencer hesitate.

"Why do you need to be alone for that?"

"I was gonna ask you to pick me up later", Emily clarified, leaning back against the seat in a perfect theatrical pose of frustration, "but you're making such a huge thing out of this when it's nothing."

Spencer couldn't believe her ears. "I am making what?"

Guilt painted Emily's face. "Just come pick me up later, Spencer, please."

"You're gonna swim on your birthday."

"Yes."

"Why can't I go with you?"

"I wanna go alone."

"Right", Spencer crossed her arms, bit her lip, mentally slapped herself trying to think fast. A doubt crossed her mind. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Emily was going with someone else and didn't want to say it. It was ugly, and it hurt. "You going with Paige?" She knew she shouldn't have said it. She knew this was not what was happening. Still, the doubt crossed her mind and made it to her lips and out in the air of the car. Paige, Paige, Wren.

"You're still jealous."

"This is not about being jealous", Spencer argued, knowing it'd been a slip that provided Emily with enough ammunition, "this is about you being like this with me and everybody else, and I am not an idiot, Emily, as much as you'd like to think I am, I am not."

"Fine, cause I am going to swim!" Emily's high-pitched scream resonated in the car. "I have to be back in the team in about two weeks, okay? You know that. You were there yesterday."

"I was there and you weren't like this yesterday."

Emily groaned. "I feel worse today."

"Is this about Wren?"

The question seemed to really catch Emily by surprise. "No." Of course it wasn't. But Hanna and Aria had planted that doubt in her mind.

"This is only about swimming, and you're doing it precisely today."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's my gift to myself."

"I'm not gonna let you go alone."

"Well, I don't want you with me doing this, so you don't have a choice." The virulence of Emily's scorn shocked Spencer. Whatever A was doing to her, it had to be bad to make her react like this. "I can do things on my own, so stop breathing on my neck cause I am not one of your pushovers that you're trying to get answers from, okay?"

"Things like lying you can do, I'll give you that."

Spencer's punch worked. Emily's eyes filled with tears and she choked them back insistently before speaking again.

"Don't act like you never lied."

"I never lied to you."

Emily killed her with a desperate glare. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?" Wren. She had to mean Wren. "You mean Wren again? That wasn't a lie, and I did it to help you."

Emily's jaw tensed even more, and she took a few seconds to respond. "You can wait for me outside." It sounded flat, like she was giving up on the on-my-own fight, but not completely.

Spencer grabbed Emily's hand strongly, but Emily brushed it off, avoiding contact.

"What's going on, Em?"

"You don't trust me, that's what's going on."

Spencer stared in disbelief, mouth open. This was A. She had to keep pushing.

"You know?" Her own scorn made it to her ears as she dripped it. "You can just call Paige and tell her to pick you up, I'm sure she'll be happy to help you out with swimming."

Emily flinched at the remark, but her words didn't show it. "Paige again."

"Things do keep coming back, huh?"

"You're an idiot."

"And you're on your own", Spencer said coldly. "Hope you enjoy it."

She opened the door and stepped out, slamming it on Emily's face. She knew it was harsh but she had to push it as much as she could. Emily started the car, though, her face blurry behind the wet windshield. The wipers started moving in a frenzy before the car sped up.

No, she wasn't going to leave Emily on her own. It was all for the sake of theatricals.

Fifty minutes later she arrived to Aquinas college. Emily's car was parked there and it took Spencer about ten minutes to find the pool. Emily was swimming laps like the house was on fire, and Spencer's heart shrunk in her chest, pondering the possibility she had made a mistake. Maybe A wanted Emily to swim here. Maybe Emily was telling the truth. No. No.

She knew Emily.

Emily was lying.

She observed her punish her body against the water for another hour. Instead of the usual grace and organic sympathy between body and water that Spencer had always found alluring and worthy of her most natural admiration, Spencer saw anger, a sustained fight, hatred even, and she wondered if the water symbolized now for Emily all the problems they had, or if it could be a representation of Spencer after their nasty encounter in the car. Perhaps it was Emily's way of getting back at everybody who was harming her. The thought that she could be one of them made Spencer's vision weak. It couldn't be healthy to train like that after more than a month without touching water. She was starting to consider getting into the pool to force her out when Emily finally climbed up and wrapped herself in an Aquinas towel. The look she gave her when she saw her standing there was hurt, but not surprised.

"I thought you said I was on my own."

Spencer didn't answer, and Emily walked past her, the scent of chlorine she'd almost forgotten breezing into her nostrils as she followed her to the showers.

"Are you gonna watch me get a shower too?", Emily asked in an annoyed tone, turning around to face her. "Do you think I'm gonna cheat on you here? You can take a look if you want, search for Paige, you know, just so you're sure."

It got to her this time, and Spencer felt the sky falling down on her, because this wasn't about Paige, or about Wren, or about any of those stupid little petty things they were saying to each other, it wasn't even about doing things on one's own, needing space, showing up for courage, feeling alone, this was about A and Spencer knew it, but there was no way to cut the path open to the truth of what was really happening between them.

She was right.

She was right.

She told her they needed to stick together through this. She told her it was going to happen again, she said it would kill them, here they were, here they were, not knowing what the correct answer was to any question. So she also turned around to offer her back, and walked out of the showers, travelling the halls of this unknown place, looking at posters and signs of this university life that was not so far from them anymore because soon they would be doing it like everybody else, people posting numbers, asking for a room, no smokers, I have a cat, a poster for a movie they had shown last Saturday in the classic film club, Blow-up, Spencer had seen it, and how strange it was to show that one in a Catholic college anyway, although it was about a photographer who discovered a murder after enlarging some pictures and focusing on the most microscopical details, it was like Rear Window, only this one was European and kind of hard to understand (very hard, she should say), and it happened in the 1960s when people were having lots of sex and probably taking lots of drugs, not the wisest idea. It should've been interesting to attend the discussion, she thought as she contemplated the solid red of the poster from where the photographer emerged in a hardly concealed sexual pose with the model he was photographing, she had long hair, her arms were extended on the floor, she was giving herself away to him, the camera representing sex, or more likely eroticism as seen through a lens, and suddenly all she could think was Emily's hair was much more beautiful than the one of that girl, everything about Emily and only about her. Spencer walked until she finally got out to the cold again. It had stopped raining. Sunset was starting to paint the afternoon, the dark falling so fast because there was no sun to set, there was no sun, and she couldn't believe it because it was Emily's date of birth.

What if she was wrong?

What if she was just a paranoid bitch?

She checked her phone. A missed call from Caleb, a text from Hanna telling her they'd be at her house at 8, and A. "Smart Spencer. – A" That was the message. You smart-ass. You fine piece of detective ass. You can't even know what's going on in your life. But you're smart.

Emily walked out twenty minutes later, looking around in obvious worry until she saw her, wrapped in her coat under a roof, waiting, waiting for her against a wall, hands shoved in her pockets. Emily's hair was still wet, long and glossy as ever, foam, foam, what a different shower this had been, no sand, no gravel this time. Emily was going to get sick – sicker.

They looked at each other, they recognized who they were.

"I'm sorry I said that", Emily spoke, voice soft, "I didn't mean it."

"Caleb's gonna be at my house tonight", Spencer replied, already on the move. "He's got something else for us."

Emily nodded, following her. "Do we know what it is?"

"I've got no idea."

They walked to Emily's car, and the same unlocking click happened, only this time they were side by side instead of face to face.

"Are your parents home?"

"Not tonight", Spencer answered, bitterly thinking of everything she thought was going to happen tonight in her deserted home, in her bed, under her sheets. She caught a flash of relief in Emily's face, but she didn't know what to do with it, she didn't know what to do with anything. "That's why we're meeting there."

"We can go in the same car."

"There's no point."

Turning towards the door, Emily hid her face. "Okay." It broke Spencer's heart. It broke Spencer's heart again.

"Em."

Emily looked back, and Spencer simply returned the gaze before skipping around the front of the car to climb inside the passenger's seat. She'd have to ask for a ride tomorrow. Two rides: one to school and another one here to recover her car.

Silence was all they said to each other until they reached her house.

She didn't know what it meant.

It was darker by the time they arrived, and Emily pulled over in the empty driveway.

"No one's here yet."

"It's at 8", Spencer replied. "You should go home and then come back."

"I can stay." She said it so shyly, it obviously took a lot of courage to utter the words. "If you want."

"You need company now?"

It was difficult to avoid a certain kind of cruelty in this situation.

"I could leave too."

Spencer turned to examine her. Stay or leave. She was still gentle, she obviously regretted some of the things she'd said, but she didn't look much better than she did this morning. Beautiful, yes. She was always beautiful. There was no one more beautiful than her.

"We can't go on like this."

Emily's body trembled, and next it was her voice. "I need time."

"This is not about needing time either, Em."

"What is it about?"

"This is not us", Spencer said. Neither of them was shouting. It was like the end of the day had lowered their voices and their battle. "Just look at us."

"I know it's not us, but…"

"Just look at you", Spencer insisted. "You're doing this and I don't know why you're doing it but I know it's A and you won't say it, so it must be something really bad, and it's always gonna happen, and if we're like this now what are we gonna do next?"

Emily took a deep breath. "Maybe Caleb's got something." She said it without much conviction. How many times had they said that already?

"Maybe's not good for us anymore."

"I swam today." She didn't say it with pride. It was more like a flare in the night. Something that could bring some sort of rescue operation to the island where she'd been left.

"I saw you."

"I'll be back in the team in two weeks."

"That's not what I'm saying", Spencer tried to clarify, although she suspected Emily knew what she was talking about, "and that's also not why you did it."

Emily looked down to her hands. "You don't know that."

"You're right", Spencer agreed, "because you won't tell me."

"I just need you to be a little patient with me right now."

"And I need you to stop lying, Em."

Emily looked hurt. "You saw me swimming."

"And that's it?"

Emily got uncomfortable in the seat. "Can you at least try and…"

"No, I can't", Spencer answered terminally, but then proceeded to explain. "It's your birthday and we were gonna talk and I've tried everything totalk to you, and now what?"

"Now we can talk."

Spencer knew the stare she was giving was one of intense disbelief.

"I'll tell you what's gonna happen", she said with no pity. "You're gonna pretend to talk and I'm gonna listen to you, and maybe if you're really good I'm gonna believe you cause I don't know what's going on, right? And because you swam and maybe it's true I'm going nuts." Emily didn't answer anything, only stared back completely appalled. "And then we're gonna have sex. Because we both need it."

"Not if you don't want to."

She seemed so innocent when she said that. Almost as if she really believed it. She probably did. But they'd end up having sex anyway.

"I want to, that's also the problem."

"Why is that a problem?"

Because sex changed minds, blew minds, blew bodies. Their minds, their bodies.

"You know why."

"We don't have to do anything, we can just…"

"What?"

"We can just be together."

"No."

Emily's black sombre eyes grew really big and instantly watery. "What are you saying?"

"I think you know what I'm saying."

She shook her head. "Spencer, don't." She knew - of course she knew.

"Let's take a break."

There it was, uttered with no sign of bitterness or sarcasm.

"You're kidding."

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. "You think?"

"You can't be serious". Her voice had suddenly high-pitched again. "You can't just break up with me because I didn't want you to come with me today. You don't know what you're doing."

"That is not the reason."

"You said you wouldn't call it off, you said you wouldn't."

"I don't want to."

"Then don't do it."

"We have to."

Emily's eyes came back to life. Big black cloud, giving birth to rain. "You can't give that to A." Big black cloud, big black hole, the night, the universe, stars, diamonds, the rain.

"I get texts too, Em", Spencer cracked. "This is not so different from what you're doing."

"It is completely different", she battled fiercely. "Everything I'm doing I'm doing for you and…"

"I didn't ask you to", Spencer retorted, "and I didn't want you to, and I always said it was a mistake."

Emily wiped some tears with the back of her sweater. "This is not about being right, Spencer, it's not… you don't realize what it is…"

"That's why I'm doing it."

Emily finally choked on her tears, unable to continue talking, but her sweater kept the struggle against the flood.

"Em, it's just a break, it's just a break until…"

Aria's car pulled over next to them. They hadn't even heard it approaching the house in the street. Spencer saw Hanna's blondness hopping out of the passenger's seat, followed by Caleb and finally by Aria's shorter figure. All their faces fell when they caught a glimpse of Emily's battle with the flood of tears. Caleb's too. Caleb, who had told Spencer to show how she could make Emily happy only two days ago, two days ago, in the party, out in the street. She suddenly remembered the last birthday present she'd gotten for today, abandoned in her car in Aquinas college. Instead, this birthday present. Bitch-style. Bitch-style.

Tears rushed to her eyes too.

"It's just a break."

Tears rushed to her eyes too but they stopped before falling. Someone had to wear the bitch-pants, someone had to be the cruel one and it was never going to be Emily, it was a break, it was a break, it was only a break. She opened the door and got out of the car without a slam, sending a clear instruction to Hanna and Aria to take charge of the situation.

The keys to her house fell to her feet because her hands were shaking.

Because, because, because.

Caleb picked them up. His eyes were shining too. Freaking hobo. Freaking sensitive hobo. She opened the door, told him to set his tech on the kitchen table and left for the restroom downstairs. Restroom, restroom, restroom. She already wanted to go back to the car to check on Emily. Maybe if she could just break down into two persons with alternate different functions. Spencer, friend. Spencer, friend, is coming out again, walking out, walking in, solutions, solutions, solutions, Spencer, lover, she's hibernated, she's packaged out, not here, not here, not here. It's just a break. You don't know what you're doing. You don't know what you're doing. I love you too, I love you too, I will always love you too. She cried.

A/N 2:glorymania: I know... Not only didn't I open a window for Emily, I made it worse... There's a reason why A singles her out, though. It's an evil game. Thanks so much for leaving a comment... and I promise at some point things will get better for Emily too.

LaughLoveLiveXx: Yes, this was sort of The Parent Chapter. That's how I called it in my mind LOL Also to stress they're kids... they still depend on adults. But - mostly - because in PLL parents and adults are there to complicate things more than to solve them, and I wanted to give it my own twist. I also wanted to show different shades of their family lives, because the family theme has been sort of hidden throughout all of the fic... You're very right in your insights as usual. Oh, and do not worry, the sexual tension will have a relief... and all the drama too. That's for sure! :)

dmpanda5: Thank you so much :) You're too kind. Ahhh, it's good if you could feel Emily's distress. Did it happen the same here with Spencer?

Spicy Emily: Yes, tell me about it LOL Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy with them while I write the story. I actually cried when I wrote this one!