**Chapter 47**

***Aria's POV***

I couldn't sleep. Every bone in my body ached with exhaustion. What felt like growing pains in my legs, back, and arms strained and pulled and left me shifting to find some better way to lay. My head ached from the bump in the back. My face was still stiff from the seeming gallons of tears that had slid down my cheeks tonight. But I couldn't sleep. If I had any capacity for emotion left I'd be furious at my body denying me this much needed rest. But as it was, I laid in bed empty and numb, staring blankly at the wall across from me.

Tomorrow, the girls would want to talk. I was almost surprised that my phone hadn't lit up a dozen times with messages asking me what had happened. Maybe they were about as drained as I was. By morning the messages would be flooding in. For now, I guess I should appreciate the quiet.

But I couldn't. The quiet made it seem like this wasn't my real room. Made it seem like if I shut my eyes then he would be there. Hands wrapped around my throat again. I could feel my heart rate pick up at the thought. But it seemed so distant right now. Like it wasn't really my body that was experiencing this but something else. Maybe it was a side effect of the pain pills I had taken. The new prescription might have some different side effects, I don't know. I hadn't bothered to look at the label.

I checked my phone, it was already after midnight. I just wanted to sleep. I don't know if I could take another night of sleeplessness. I blinked. My eyes were burning from keeping them open for so long. But I had to watch the door. Had to be awake. I had to… not be here.

I didn't bother to get dressed, just sliding on my slippers and grabbing Jason's coat that was over my chair. I wasn't sure where my parents were, dad was probably in his room, but mom could have been back at her apartment. They would be so angry if I just left in the night. No matter if I told the cops where I was going. Quietly I walked down the stairs.

The light in the kitchen was on. I don't know why they would still be awake. But I wasn't sure that I even cared anymore. Tell them where you're going, a voice in my head told me. I headed into the kitchen. It was quiet. They were both sitting at the breakfast counter, with a mug in front of them. The room vaguely smelled of coffee. Neither drank.

"I can't sleep." I let the words break the silence, making them both turn from their mugs to look at me.

They both looked exhausted, like they'd run the emotional equivalent of a marathon today. Neither moved from their place, maybe not expecting me to be down in the middle of the night. They needed to sleep too. It was late enough. They could just head to bed. In the morning everything would seem better for them. I would still be keeping secrets, but the threat would have lessened. The shadow that covered every aspect of my life would have receded to just the edges of their perception.

"I can't sleep in my room. I'm going over to sleep at Ali's house." I told them words out of my mouth without thought, not entirely knowing why I picked Ali's. Maybe because she wouldn't be there. But Jason would.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here?" My mom asked. "I could come up and sleep in there with you."

I shook my head, it wouldn't work tonight. He had tried to take me today. And if I was in that room, I wouldn't sleep. Another person breathing would just make it worse. "You can sleep in my bed. But I can't sleep in there tonight."

Silence overtook us. It seemed like they were thinking. Deciding if they would trust if I left the house tonight, that I would come back. I don't blame them. They shared a look. Finally, they nodded. I didn't wait for them to say anything. I walked to the front door, grabbed my keys, and left.

The cop was out of his car by the time I cleared the front porch and heading over to me. His partner was still in the car, reaching for the radio. I wondered what orders they had been given if I tried to leave. I hoped they would let me go. I needed to go.

"I'm going to sleep at Ali's house tonight." It wasn't a request. I was leaving and they would have to arrest me to stop me.

"The officer will call us if you're not there in the next ten minutes." He replied.

Not too strict then. I nodded in response, before climbing into my car. The drive over was quick, given that there was next to no traffic this time of night. The officer was waiting outside of his car before I even pulled up outside the house. I know that his partner would call in that I arrived as soon as he saw me. I walked straight up to the door, knocking quickly. Hopefully, Jason would let me in tonight. I took a breath and the door opened.

"I didn't think you would actually come over tonight." Jason said, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door.

He looked as exhausted as I felt, the circles under his eyes more distinct than I remember them being just a few hours ago. He hadn't bothered to change clothes from going to meet Charles and I wondered why he wasn't in bed at this hour. He stepped back, allowing me to come into the house. Silently, I stepped across the threshold. It was weird just how many times in the past few days I had come into this house. Probably on par with how much time I spent here back before Ali disappeared.

"I couldn't sleep." I finally responded after he closed the door behind me, flipping the lock as he did so.

He was silent for a moment, making me half-wonder if this was the right move to make tonight. I owed him an explanation if I wanted him to keep what I'd said between us. I don't know if either of us were actually up for that conversation, given how shitty I felt at least. But I also remembered how he made me feel, the comfort and warmth that came just from being near him. Jason would protect me, or at least do his best trying. He'd proven that much today at the arcade, physically blocking the baseballs being pitched at us so that I would be safe. I needed that feeling again.

"Do you want something to drink? I could make hot chocolate again, maybe this time we'd drink it." He joked.

I nodded. Maybe I would feel a little more there with the heat and the sugar. Though to be fair, the carton of icecream hadn't done anything to make me feel better. Jason led me into the kitchen where he put the kettle on to heat the water. I took a seat at the counter, rubbing at my eyes.

"How are you doing?" he asked, sitting down at the other barstool. "I wasn't sure if they would be letting you out of the hospital tonight."

"I'm alright. I ache a bit, but overall I'm okay." I replied, staring down at the counter. "I have you to thank for that actually. You took a lot more of the hits than I did. Are you okay?"

I glanced up as he gave a shaky laugh, shoving his hand back into his hair so it wasn't in his face anymore. It was a mannerism I had seen him do before, when he was nervous or uncomfortable. I gave a weak smile as our eyes met.

"I'll admit I'm a little sore. But I'll be okay." he reassured.

We lapsed into silence for a few moments, unsure what to say next. I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to tell him about what I had said earlier to Charles. Then again, I also wasn't sure how exactly I could avoid that conversation. He opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. Just then, the whistle of the kettle filled the air, breaking into whatever conversation we might have had. He moved over, pulling the kettle off the stove and then busying himself in the kitchen making us hot chocolate. Or seemingly he made one hot chocolate with the hot water, while the other he made with coffee. He still topped them both with whipped cream. He placed it on the counter in front of me, not making the same mistake as last night where I fell asleep rather than talking with him. He set the coffee/chocolate mix down in front of his stool.

"Coffee this late? Aren't you planning on sleeping?" I questioned.

"I'm not really supposed to sleep much tonight, I have a concussion."he admitted sheepishly.

Guilt flared up in me as he said that. I hadn't thought that he would get hit in the head by the baseballs, but I knew that any of his injuries he got protecting me. Slowly I reached my hand out to touch his on the counter, feeling his hand shift slightly under mine before flipping over so that he could entwine our fingers. The contact was reassuring in its sincerity. He was here and would support me, even if it hurt sometimes.

"Why were you the one that came?" he questioned, drawing me out of the quiet moment that we had been sharing.

"What?" I responded, what did he mean by me being the one that came. Was he expecting someone else tonight?

"The note..." he started, hesitating for a moment to see if I caught on. "it said that I needed to bring the girl. Why you?"

I tensed, I don't know why but I'd thought maybe he wouldn't ask or at least that he would start the conversation at a less uncomfortable point. I looked at him, trying to see if he understood how painful and difficult it was for me to talk about this. There was concern in his face, but not suspicion. Maybe he had an idea why his brother would ask to bring me along, but if anything he was afraid to admit it to himself.

" I don't know." The words fell from my lips and I knew they weren't enough but what could I say? "I think I'm the only one he touched. In the doll house. At least, I know he didn't touch Spencer."

He looked at me, probably shocked that I had even said that much. He didn't say anything. Letting me lead the conversation for the moment. Maybe it was because of what a collosally shitty day it was. Or the effects of the pain killers. Or maybe it was just that Jason hadn't ever pressed me to talk about it. He had offered a willing ear to listen and a safe space to land if I wanted, but hadn't pushed me at all. The difference was so small yet felt like a million miles compared to the constant pushing from my family and the girls.

"I don't know what he did to the others. I know a little, some things that were the same." My voice was shaking, I stared at our intertwined hands because I couldn't bear to watch his reaction. I didn't want to see his face when I told him. "We tried to escape, after only a week or so. Got out into the air only to be trapped by an electric fence."

I remembered the moment Spencer called out for us to stop as we raced towards the fence and the terror that filled me at the prospect of walking back down into the hellhole. And then the moment where my stomach dropped out when that option was taken away as the door swung shut. The feeling of being trapped despite the open air as the speaker began playing Dont Fence Me In. The hot days, with no shade from nearby trees to block out the sun. Only our filthy evening dresses to keep us warm at night when the temperature dropped. My mouth felt so dry, longing for a drop of moisture to relieve the aching dryness. I took a drink of the hot chocolate. It was hot and thick. So different than the freezing cold rain that had followed the heat. Leaving us shaking and miserable after I had tilted my head back with my mouth open to let the drops fill my mouth and fill the little cracks in my mouth that seemed to beg for cool relief.

"He locked us out for days. No food. No water except the rain when it came. No shelter but each other and our clothes." I continued, remembering the aching pains in my stomach from being so hungry. But I hadn't been alone then. I had the others to huddle in the cold with and share body heat when the shivering stopped. "I thought that would be it. A few days of starving outside and done."

I had been nervous when we walked back into the bunker and followed the lights on the ground as my eyes struggled to adapt to the dark after the bright natural light above. And then the smoke had come. And I watched as he stole Mona away. In the low light and the smoke in the air as I choked, I had for a moment forgotten that it was Mona and I watched him take Ali away. And then there had been the cold and the dark. My bare skin against the cold metal slab had taken me away to Iceland in my dreams. Feeling the closeness with my family as we cuddled up in the frigid temperatures outside to watch the northern lights. The happiness that I had felt watching my parents love each other so freely while Mike and I huddled around them. And he had stolen that from me too. Those moments of happiness and peace tainted when I opened my eyes and thought I was dead.

Thought there had been some horrid mistake and grasped desperately to see if there was a y-incision on my chest where I had been opened in an autopsy and continued existing. But the moment had passed, I felt the coarse cloth of the sheet against my bare skin and saw that the other girls were there and waking up from the same nightmare as me. And still I had thought that was it. That he had taught us his lesson. We would do what he said.

"It wasn't."

I had willingly walked into my room with only a backwards glance at the others. Having soundly learned my lesson that we needed to listen to him or he would do something like that again. And then the door had closed and the real nightmare had begun.

"I don't know how long it was." I admitted. "I tried to keep track of days. Based on when I slept. I know it was around three weeks. Locked in that little room. Alone."

I could feel the tear slide down my face with the lie. Remembering the glass in my skin as I hauled myself into the bed and let the blood run onto the sheets. Too tired to move as soon as I collapsed onto the soft mattress with my cuts away from contact.

"Until I wasn't alone." I could feel the need to bury it away again claw at my throat desperately. To be quiet. Because that at least didn't hurt. He didn't hit me if I was quiet. Didn't wrap his hands around my throat if no sound came out. Silent as a doll, that he moved to fit his desires. Dressing me up. Cutting my hair. Moving me around. I could feel myself shaking with the memories, my limbs trembling while my chest tried to contain the sobs. "Until he wrapped his hands around my throat and took my voice."

It was a whisper. Too afraid to lift higher than the barest sound. Knowing that if I spoke too loud he would hear me. Knowing that my words weren't safe anymore. They just meant pain. And the sheer terror of having the world go dark around you when your vision blacked and your lungs gave up spasming for air. The fear and desperation of the fight for just a breath. And the blackness waiting on the other side.

**End Chapter**