Seasons of Love

by Forever without him

When Alison DiLaurentis is thrust into a world of choices between obligation & loyalty she makes an impossible decision. After spending three years without Emily Fields, she sets out to prove to the brunette that she's worth loving. As looming threats from their past emerge and an unexpected tragedy unfolds, they learn to lean on one another. Canon-Divergent. Rating may change.

15. The Winds of Winter

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me on the updates. I'm dealing with a computer constantly throwing tantrums and I'm working with parts of my fingers missing due to a kitchen mishap. Everything hurts and the world is on fire *nervous laughter*.

A little bit of triggering material ahead. Also not entirely rated T. Skirts M-territory.

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Chapter 14:

The Winds of Winter

Winter seemed to be never-ending, but only because they were spending the last two weeks of December on the east coast.

There were so many cold grey days filled with swollen unpredictable clouds.

Visiting Rosewood always brought out the worst of their memories, and Alison was already high strung since she wasn't able to contact her brother or reprimand her sister.

The fields of Pennsylvania were turning black and vicious in Alison's world.

It was like the harsh winds of winter had come all at once.

It settled over Emily's old house in a grey rainy pall that was slowly starting to churn out snow.

Naked trees shivered in the frigid breeze. Emily was more aware of their presence than she had been last winter. Fog was the weather's new best friend, taunting to turn into freezing air.

Alison had been trying to focus on learning her lines for a short film she had been offered, but she was having trouble concentrating, especially since they were back in Rosewood.

She threw her script down on Emily's bed in frustration.

"Come on, you can do this." Emily lowered the pages she was holding to help her recite lines.

Emily had been nothing but supportive of Alison's career path. She helped her run lines. She put up with Alison's wild hours and running into her followers when they were out in the California sunshine. She even listened as Alison babbled about how many likes her posts got and smiled when she read the comments to her.

She was the perfect partner. But Alison didn't know what she'd been doing behind her back.

It had been hard for Emily to keep her conversations with Caleb a secret.

From what Caleb could discern about Jason, he was working somewhere overseas. It explained his absence, but not why he refused to return Alison's phone calls. Caleb had also found something unsettling when he accessed Jason's phone records. He hadn't made a single call from his phone in months. Not even the call with Emily's mother when he'd given her his condolences about Wayne.

"That's weird." Emily had frowned.

"Yes and no. If he's overseas…and from his boss it sounds like he is…he might have a company phone with international access. I'd need that number to track him. There are dozens of phones associated through his company and I don't know which one belongs to him. Every single one of them are overseas with international calling, but since it's registered to the company his name isn't attached."

"Would he actually ditch his personal cell phone with Charlotte being treated? He'd need to be in touch, wouldn't he?" Emily had asked.

"He could just as easily use the company phone. Unlimited minutes. And calls connect better."

"Well I guess he's not working for her, so that's something."

"Yeah, she's not really all that popular, so her payroll would be a pretty short list."

"What about Sara Harvey?" Emily mulled it over. "She'd have a reason to hold a grudge against us. Especially since I'm the reason her hands are hurt."

"You're not the reason she got hurt that night." Caleb frowned. "She set you girls up. She was going to set off a bomb."

"Still...she hates us."

"She seemed to hate Charlotte when she helped put her away, but she could have been lying. Perhaps Charlotte wasn't the only sociopath in that duo." He'd scoffed. "I'll see what she's been up to. She does fit the profile for whoever you chased down in the graveyard. Last I'd heard she got out of the hospital with a hefty settlement and ditched Rosewood."

"So…she's somewhere free in the wind. Great." The sarcasm oozed off of Emily. "Any luck on Wren?"

"Sorry." He shook his head. "I couldn't even access his medical school transcript since he went to school in England."

He had not found anything on Wren, which was not surprising to Emily given that Wren had dual citizenship. International records weren't as easy to hack.

Caleb had also hit a snag trying to access Charlotte's records again, because Welby had updated their security, so he had to find another work around.

When he did finally manage to pull it up he found she'd been in and out of the psych hold, so contact was strictly forbidden.

Apparently she was threatening to kill herself unless they let her out.

She wouldn't follow through on the threat. She was still playing with her little sister's mind, and she got off on the torture.

Alison had been getting calls every single day. Sometimes there were messages where nothing was said. Other times she heard whispering and taunts.

The calls were getting much more personal. Recordings of Alison's past were being played. Conversations she'd had, and audio pulled from videos of her.

She had thought about changing her number, but she didn't want to give Charlotte the satisfaction.

Today's text had been uncomfortable,

Welcome home, baby sister.

Knowing that Charlotte knew when she was in town was unnerving. Clearly someone was watching them.

Alison was on edge, but that was going to change soon. Because Charlotte had been out of the psych hold long enough that she could have contact…and it happened to be when Emily and Alison were in town for the holidays.

Caleb had managed to get Emily set up to see her without Jason being alerted.

Emily had asked Caleb to continue to look in to trying to find out what was going on with Jason, too. Even if he was working it didn't explain his radio silence. She was starting to worry that he wasn't just ignoring Alison's calls. After all, Alison and Emily had both seen someone in a red coat watching them. And Charlotte could have easily had someone send flowers to Pam and had that same person fake a phone call.

"If she put a hit out on the only family she has left that gives a shit about her then she's an idiot. And he's an idiot for letting her manipulate him." Alison had grumbled just yesterday morning on the plane.

Emily peered at the blonde, who was mumbling angrily under her breath about the script.

She wanted to tell Alison the secret she was hiding. She hated keeping it from her. She started to say something, but Alison let out a loud grunt that distracted her.

Alison picked up her phone, a muscle in her jaw twitching in anger. Then she threw it back down on the bed next to the script.

"Can we go for a walk or something? I need a break." She crawled off of the bed.

"You've walked by your old house a dozen times since we've been back. He isn't there." The second Emily said it she could tell Alison resented it. Before Alison could retort Emily put the script down and stood up. "Christmas light tour of the neighborhood it is."

Alison turned towards Emily's vanity and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes caught Emily's in the reflection. She turned around with a dramatic sigh.

"I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?" She frowned.

"To be fair, you're always ridiculous." Emily closed the gap between them and grinned in her face.

Alison let a laugh slip out. Only Emily Fields could get away with something so bold.

"I get it." Emily's voice was softer now. "I know what you're going through…and I know what you've already been through. I would be worried if you weren't expressing your feelings."

Because hiding her feelings was what Alison had done in the past.

But she didn't hide from Emily. Not anymore.

"I'm sorry I woke you up last night." Alison frowned.

She'd been crying in her sleep and totally disoriented when she woke up. She'd been having the same nightmare for weeks now. Drowning on the dirt in her lungs. Emily next to her. Both of them dying.

"Am I awake?" She'd asked in desperate confusion.

"You're awake. It's okay. I'm here." Emily had gently cradled her cheek.

"I can't tell what's real anymore." Alison had wiped her face.

"I'm real. Just focus on that."

It had calmed her nerves a bit.

"You've been up with me before, too. It's part of it." Emily's warm palm was cradling her cheek once again, but now Alison was fully able to appreciate it.

"How are you doing? I know being here isn't easy for you either." Alison slid her palm against the length of Emily's arm. Sometimes she did it to be closer to her. And other times she did it to see whether or not Emily was shaking beneath her tough exterior.

"It helps to be around my mom."

It wasn't a lie, but Alison felt the tension in her muscles. Some days were better than others. Alison was glad that Emily still had her mother.

She longed to be loved by her parents, even though one was dead and the other hated and disowned her. She was glad she'd found love with Emily.

"Have I told you how much I loved you yet today?" Alison embraced her.

Emily hugged her back.

"I love you, too, Ali."

It wasn't unusual for Alison to show affection, but as Emily held her in her arms she sensed something was off. There was a quiet sadness radiating off of her.

"What's wrong?" Emily pulled back, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

It wasn't a surprise to Alison that Emily could read her so well. They had a certain energy between them, a vibe that was easily thrown off when one of them was slightly off-kilter.

"I can't stop thinking about my family. They're toxic and horrible. But I can't stop thinking about them. And I feel bad. I know they never loved me. They weren't capable of love…"

"How certain are you about that?" Emily had a feeling Alison was right about Charlotte not being capable of love, but Charlotte wasn't her only family.

Jessica DiLaurentis, through all her faults, had been extremely supportive of Emily when she told her that she was gay. She had told her that she wished Alison could love her back in the same manner.

Emily wondered if Jessica had any clue about Alison's sexuality. The blonde hid it so well. Jessica was a woman who had her demons. She had buried Alison after Charlotte smashed her over the head. Jessica had buried one child to save another. She'd also been supportive of Charlotte, helping her with the transition.

Alison's mother was a wildly complex person. She had been morally wrong about so much, but Emily had seen a softer side of her after Alison had disappeared.

"Charlotte is a sociopath. My dad outwardly said he hates me. Jason cut me out of his life entirely. And my mom…" Alison stopped, pursing her lips, probably thinking the same thing as Emily. "I guess I'll never really know anything about my mom. She put on a show her entire life. I didn't even know who she was when she was alive."

"And you never got the chance to find out." Emily added softly.

"No." Alison looked thoughtfully at Emily. "I didn't." She sighed. "Maybe it's better that I didn't. The rest of them disappointed me. Why would she be any different?"

She was still angry at her mother. She was even angrier that they'd never gotten to resolve their issues.

"Did I ever tell you that I came out to your mother?" Emily asked.

Alison's eyes sparked back to life.

"No. What happened?"

"She told me she was proud of me." A sad smile twitched against her lips. "She knew how much I loved you. She said that she wished you could return the feelings I felt for you and that she couldn't ask for a better person to love you than me."

Alison's jaw fell slightly open as she tried to comprehend it. It wasn't surprising that she accepted Emily. What was surprising is that she had been right. There was no one better to love her than Emily. Even her mother knew it.

Alison suspected her mom might have known about her sexuality. She'd even hinted at it and told her she would be okay with it, but she wanted to hide it from the rest of their family. Alison had blown up at her mom about that and adamantly stated she didn't like Emily romantically. And now her mom would never know that Alison did return those feelings.

"I wish she could see us now." Alison stepped closer to Emily, allowing the brunette to put her arm around her shoulder.

Emily's brows knitted together, but she turned her head so Alison wouldn't see it in her reflection.

Jessica had entrusted Emily with Alison's heart…and she had broken it more than once. She had left her in her most vulnerable moments. After her mom died Alison was so lost. And Emily still felt guilty that she'd caved to peer pressure instead of trusting her own instincts.

"Me too." Emily squeezed Alison into a side hug, composing herself enough to look at their reflection in the mirror. "You never realize how much your parents mean to you until you lose them. I think about all the things my dad is going to miss."

Alison studied the weary look on her face.

"You want to go visit him?" Alison asked.

There was a beat of silence. Emily's eyes darted from their reflection towards the papers strewn out on her bed.

"What about learning your lines?"

"I have plenty of time." Alison shrugged.

She was pretty natural when it came to saying the right thing on camera. Sometimes she didn't even learn her lines until a few hours before she was scheduled to be on set.

"Besides…I told you I need to get out of here for a while. Sitting around thinking about how my big bad sister is going to jump out of the shadows is making me restless."

"It's really cold out." Emily warned.

"Em…I grew up here." She looked at her in amusement. "I'll be fine. We can drive instead of walk."

"I'm just saying that after acclimating to California weather, sometimes it's not so easy to acclimate back to frostbite weather." Emily walked over to her closet and started sorting through it.

She pulled out a thick sweater and pulled it on over her shirt. Then she grabbed a heavy wool coat and two pairs of gloves.

Alison rifled through her things and pulled out a matching pair of sweats and a wool coat of her own.

Emily's mother was sitting in the living room wrapping gifts for her friends when they walked downstairs.

For the most part their trip had been a good one. The only time Emily bristled was when her mother asked about school. She'd managed to get her failing grade to a low passing one. The rest of her grades had also slipped. But she didn't want her mom to know that. Fortunately, Pam was easy to distract during the holidays.

"Mom, can I borrow your keys? We want to go for a drive." Emily glanced at the fancy wrapping paper and all the decorative bags.

Her mother had always been meticulous about presentation. Even though someone was going to be ripping into the paper she made sure it was perfectly wrapped and that there were no wrinkles.

"Sure. They're in my purse on the kitchen counter." Pam looked up at them. "You two look so cute all bundled up. Like you're kids again."

"Mom." Emily's cheeks turned red.

Her mother could still embarrass her after all these years.

"Where are you going?" Pam pried.

Emily paused before responding, her smile slowly dissipating.

"To visit dad." She watched her mom's face, waiting for the grief-stricken look.

There was a soft sadness in her eyes, but it was eclipsed by the loving smile on her face.

"You want to come with us?" Emily asked.

"I would, but Ella and Ashley are on their way over to pick me up so we can meet up at Veronica's." Pam mindlessly ran her fingers over a bright red bow. "But maybe you and I can find some time to go together before you two leave for the Poconos?"

After Christmas, the girls were going to The Poconos, courtesy of Pam and Wayne. She had given Emily and Alison an early Christmas present. A trip to the mountains. A small cabin for New Years. It wasn't anything fancy. Her father had planned it before he was killed.

"I'd like that." Emily nodded before walking off to grab the keys.

Pam tried to grab the scissors, which were just out of reach. Alison bent down to pick them up and then handed them to her.

"Thanks again for including me in the trip to the Poconos." Alison gently put the scissors in Pam's palm.

"Of course." Pam said. "Wayne and I wouldn't have it any other way." There was a twinge of pain when she said his name. "Emily doesn't do well with grief."

Something Alison knew all too well.

"She needs time to reflect…to get some solace and peace." Pam put the scissors down next to the box she was wrapping. "I suspect you need that solace, too."

She was so incredibly intuitive that Alison was surprised she hadn't figured out that Emily was gay before the brunette came out. Maybe she knew and didn't want to admit it to herself because she didn't understand it at the time.

"You've been through a lot, Alison. It's okay to stop and breathe when you need to."

Alison was close enough to her to see the sunken dark discoloring underneath the older woman's eyes. She had apparently been getting about as much sleep as she and Emily had.

"Thank you."

"You take good care of my daughter." It was an observation, not a statement.

"She takes good care of me, too." Alison returned the compliment.

Emily walked back in, keys in her thick gloved hands.

"Drive safe." Pam waved and went back to wrapping a gift box.

As soon as they stepped outside into the cold air Alison regretted her idea to leave the house. She had no idea the temperature had dropped so much. She could see flurries in the air. They were tiny little flecks that melted when they hit the ground, but Alison knew that soon it would turn into a wet mushy freezing mess piling up on everything around them. It was the kind of cold that hurt people's bones.

Her designer wool coat didn't help much. It went down to her knees, leaving her calves exposed. Her fake fur-lined boots were warm though.

She quickly shuffled out to the car, yanking on the door handle the second Emily pushed the key fob to unlock it. Alison jumped into the passenger seat and waited on Emily to climb in front next to her and start the car so she could blast the heat.

Alison glanced at Emily's house. They had helped her decorate before going back to California after Thanksgiving.

The house was beautiful, but it looked like Christmas had thrown up all over her front yard.

Emily hopped in next to her and started the car, immediately reaching for the heat.

She turned and looked at the wildly tacky Christmas display on her front lawn.

"Bet they can see this from space." Alison laughed.

"Hmm…" Emily tilted her head.

Something was missing.

"What's wrong?" Alison asked.

"Where's Baby Jesus?" Emily wasn't religious at all, but tradition was tradition. And she was certain she'd seen the decoration earlier.

"If he's smart he got the hell out of this town." Alison snarked under her breath.

Her snappy retort made Emily laugh.

"I'll check with mom when we get back." Emily smiled and put the car into gear.

It wasn't dark enough to appreciate the Christmas lights in the neighborhood yet, so Emily drove towards the cemetery. It didn't take long to get there.

Wayne had left the choice of his burial site up to Pam. She had fretted over whether to bury her husband in a VA cemetery or one closer to home. In the end she'd decided she wanted him close.

Emily put the car into park and let it idle for a minute.

The snowflakes were getting bigger and more defined, but they still weren't sticking to the ground.

She stared into the distance thinking about the last time she'd been to her father's grave. It had started out as unpleasant and had ended downright terrifying.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she was swallowed by the memory of the black hole she'd fallen into. The grave had transported her right back to the Dollhouse.

Struggling to breathe as water poured in

Choking.

Drowning.

Dying.

"Em?" Alison's touch jolted her out of her mind. "We can go somewhere else if you don't want to…"

"I want to." Emily said definitively.

She owed it to her father to visit him whenever she could. He had given her life. The least she could do was be there for him in death.

"I'm sorry." Emily shut the car off. "I was just trying to plan a way to not fall into an open grave this time." She feigned a smile.

Alison did not smile back. That was her nightmare. Emily choking on dirt. Alison watching her choke on dirt.

"Come on." Emily reached for her gloves and slipped them back on. She had taken them off once the heating had kicked on.

Alison was still wearing hers…and dreading the cold. She would give anything to be back in Malibu sunning on a beach somewhere. She'd been looking through her socials and experiencing a little bit of FOMO. Every time she saw Max post a picture out in the sun she realized how much she missed the warmer weather.

Emily had been annoyingly right about not being able to acclimate once you were used to a different climate.

They climbed out of the car.

Alison pulled her designer wool coat that went down to her knees closed, buttoning it tightly. She pulled the faux-fur-lined hood up over her head. It warmed her cheeks almost immediately.

They slowly walked into the cemetery.

Emily found it easier to walk through the gates this time. She wasn't sure if it was because what had happened the last time or because Alison was with her.

They didn't say much as they were walking towards his headstone. It was somber and sad and not much could be said.

Emily was the one who broke the silence.

They were almost at her father's grave when she faced Alison.

"After this do you want to visit your mom?" she asked softly.

She knew that Alison's mom was buried on the same grounds. She remembered from Jessica's funeral.

"I…" Alison cringed. "I'm not really sure where she's buried. I haven't been by her grave since her funeral." She seemed disappointed in herself. "Is that bad? Does that make me a bad daughter?"

She felt Emily's gloved hand grab hers and she looked up at her girlfriend.

"Everyone goes at their own pace," Emily said. "If you're not ready, then you're not ready."

"I don't know if I'll ever be ready." Alison stared at the ground.

"That's okay. There is no wrong way to grieve."

"I don't know if I ever thanked you…for going to her funeral with me." She slowly looked up at the brunette.

"You don't have to thank me for that." Emily's cheeks reddened, but she wasn't blushing. She seemed embarrassed about something. It was a strange reaction. She paused in her stride and faced Alison. "I'm so sorry I abandoned you."

"What?" Shock and confusion washed over the blonde's features.

"After you came back to Rosewood. After we first slept together. When Mona and Charlotte were still playing the game. I was so blind." Emily shook her head with a sigh. "I think about it sometimes. Your mom had just died. And I let the girls convince me that you hadn't changed. I abandoned you when you needed me most, and you went to jail for something you didn't do. I made a silent promise to your mom that I would be there for you after she died. And I failed."

Alison bit her lip, which was already chapped from the cold air. She wasn't sure what to say.

"After my dad died I started to think about how hard it's been for you to process your mom's death. It must eat at you not knowing. The cops still have no leads, do they?"

Alison could see her gnawing on the inside of her cheek. It was something she'd done when they were younger, too. She'd done it a lot more back then because of her insecurities.

"No. Charlotte swears it wasn't her, but I don't believe her anymore." Alison had vitriol in her tone.

At the mention of Charlotte's name Emily visibly froze.

Alison read it as fear, but it wasn't. It was guilt.

Even though Emily had been able to keep Alison from finding out about her visit to Charlotte, it felt awful to have it awkwardly hanging between them.

"Alison, I need to tell you something…"

Emily had planned to go in to Welby alone. She wanted to go in alone, but it wasn't right to keep it from Alison, not when she was suffering.

Alison's eyes widened.

Emily assumed she was reading her mind.

But the blonde wasn't looking at Emily. She was looking over her shoulder.

"Oh my God…" Alison's dainty gloved hand flew to her mouth.

Emily moved to turn around, but Alison grabbed her at the last second, trying to shield her from the broken Christmas decoration and the angry red splotches she was looking at.

Emily managed to break free and spin around.

What she saw horrified her.

Emily felt a flurry of emotions. Pain. Anger. Grief. Guilt.

Her father's grave had been vandalized. Bold bright red letters spelling out a message for her. The same message that Charlotte had texted to Alison that morning.

Welcome Home

Next to the grave was the Baby Jesus she had noticed missing earlier. Someone had taken a hammer to it.

Alison's stared at it, slack-jawed. The broken Jesus was bad enough, but the graffiti was worse.

The writing was messy, like a child had done it. It was hard to read. The spray paint can must have been freezing. It was hard to grip things in the frigid weather, and a cold can of spray paint must have been like ice. Or they could have been in a hurry so they wouldn't get caught.

Alison didn't realize she'd been staring for so long. She whipped her head back and looked at Emily.

Rage emboldened her face. Her sienna eyes alternated between hot and cold, whirlwinds of flaming hail. She took large striding steps until she was at her father's grave.

She looked around frantically, not knowing what to do.

It crossed her mind that if her mother had come out to visit she would have seen this.

She dropped to her knees and moved Jesus aside. She started rubbing the paint with her sleeve.

"Damn it!" She cried out.

Her phone fell out of her pocket.

Alison leaned down and scooped it up, putting it in her jacket before reaching for Emily.

"Em…it's dry. We need something to wash it with…"

Emily ignored her and kept trying to scrub it away. She could feel Alison's hands on her, trying to tug her off of the ground, but she was laser-focused on the letters on her father's headstone.

She scanned the grounds, looking for anything she could use to clean it up.

Her eyes landed on something moving in the distance.

At first, her heart caught in her throat.

Then she realized it was someone driving the grounds on a golf cart. The cart was moving away from them, but Emily could see enough to know that the big burly body in the driver's seat was the same person who had pulled her out of the open grave a month ago.

"BUD!" She yelled so loud that her voice cracked through the air in an echo.

She saw the cart come to a halt. The man turned around. Slowly, the cart changed directions, moving through designated paths until it was close enough to stop.

Bud hopped off of the cart and started walking over.

It was hard to read the expression on his face. He had his ball cap shielding his eyes from the frigid air and snow. He had on an Army jacket that was identical to one that hung in her father's closet. Heavy duty gloves protected his hands from frostbite. His boots crunched against the ground.

"Hey. I remember you."

He was approaching from behind the headstone, so he hadn't seen the damage yet.

Alison watched him with a suspicious gaze. She didn't trust anyone. Not even the man who had pulled her girlfriend out of an open grave.

"I need your help…" Emily pushed herself to her feet.

"Sure, kid. What's up?" When he rounded the grave he noticed the vandalism. His eyes widened. "What the hell happened here? Who would do something like this?"

"I don't know." Emily looked at him with a pleading gaze. "Please…" Her bottom lip quivered. "Please get it off before my mom sees it."

Beneath her pain she looked murderous.

Bud simply nodded.

"I'll take care of it." He moved towards the golf-cart, rummaging around and searching for cleaning supplies. He pulled out a clear bottle and a rag.

"Get one for me, too." Emily called out to him.

"And one for me." Alison slipped her gloved hand into Emily's.

She nodded in solidarity, letting the brunette know she was there for her.

Emily smiled in appreciation, but Alison could see the deep wounded look in her eyes. The sacred place where her father's body was at rest had been vandalized. Emily had been violated. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Bud returned, handing them each a rag.

The three of them scrubbed the granite until the letters dissolved beneath the cleaner.

Even when they were finished Emily could still see the words burned into her brain. It was only paint, but Emily felt like they'd been scrubbing blood away.

She stared dully at her father's name. It was clean, but she certainly didn't feel clean. She felt like she needed a hot shower to wash away the day.

Alison and Bud were both staring at Emily.

Alison felt helpless. She couldn't even imagine what was going through Emily's mind.

Bud cleared his throat and Emily's eyes darted away from the grave. She was trying to figure out how in the hell to explain it to him, but he didn't give her the chance to form an excuse.

"Last time I was out here I was pulling you out of a grave. And now this?" He gestured to the headstone and the shattered Baby Jesus.

"It was probably just some stupid kids. A lot of kids in town weren't really fond of us when we went to high school here." Emily kept her tone neutral, trying not to give away her anger and fear.

Bud didn't seem convinced. He crossed his arms and straightened his stance.

His movements reminded her of how people in the Army moved. It reminded her so much of her father that it hurt.

"I know what happened back then." His stoic eyes gave nothing away. "I know someone did horrible things to you. Your father was irate that they wouldn't let him take a leave of absence. Never seen him so pissed off."

"The person who did that to her is off the streets for good." Alison put her hand on Emily's shoulder.

"I saw someone here earlier. From a distance. Someone all bundled up at the grave. Thought it was you." Bud grimaced and looked at the headstone.

He clearly regretted not riding out to take a closer look before now.

Alison stiffened beside Emily, her eyes wide and full of fury.

Emily did a better job of containing her rage. She had always been more calculating when it came to her anger. She reserved it for the people who deserved it. Then she went off like a bomb.

She was going to see Charlotte tomorrow. That clearly had something to do with the message left on her dad's grave. It was an odd thing to do if Charlotte thought there was any chance whatsoever that Emily was coming for a good reason. She had to know that she was going to defend Alison.

"Was anyone with her?" Alison asked.

"Not that I saw." He shook his head.

"How long ago was she here?" Emily touched the granite with her gloved hand.

"Two to three hours. Paint probably dried immediately in this weather. Saw her get in a car with someone. Didn't get a good look. I was on the other side of the grounds." He uncrossed his arms and scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I seen some crazy shit in my days, but this…" He gestured to the broken infant on the ground. "This is just Sacrilegious. Clearly someone has it out for you. You told the cops yet?"

Cops are useless…was what Emily wanted to say.

Instead she bit her tongue.

"I don't have anything to tell them." Emily tried not to flinch, because if Bud was anything like her father he'd be able to see right through her.

She didn't even know the man, but she could tell he never bought the bullshit people tried to feed him.

"You sure about that?" His eyes bore into hers.

"It's nothing. We're taking care of it." Emily's jaw twitched.

It wasn't an outright lie. She was going to confront Charlotte. But Alison didn't know about it.

"I appreciate the concern, but we're fine." She glanced at her father's name. "Thank you for helping us clean the headstone. I'd like a few minutes alone with my father now if you don't mind."

She managed to be both polite and demanding. Alison was impressed.

Bud grunted out something, but then he nodded his head and waved as he walked back towards the golf cart.

"If there is anything I can do, let me know." He spun the cart around and drove up next to them.

"If you see someone at his grave again could you let me know?" Emily asked.

"Sure. I know how to get in contact with your mom. I'll just tell her it's about a flower arrangement."

Bud was a seasoned veteran, so of course he already had a plan lined up.

"And also, could you get rid of this?" Emily leaned down and picked up the little Jesus they'd had since she was a child. Something inside of her shattered.

She handed it over to Bud. He took it without a fuss.

After he drove off Emily let out a breath she'd been holding in. Her eyes were glued to the piece of her childhood in his cart that someone had destroyed.

"You okay?" Alison asked.

"I'll just tell my mom that Jesus fell off the roof and get a new one." She sighed. "This would break her heart."

Emily wasn't religious, but it meant something to her because her dad had picked it out. He had bought all the decorations. She didn't care anything about the Bible or about Jesus. But she cared about her father. The hallowed decoration was sentimental to her. A new one would not feel the same. It was like having to say goodbye to her dad all over again. Anguish mixed with a rage she couldn't quell.

"This is a new level of messed up." Emily wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"You don't think Charlotte or her little minions would do anything to him, do you?" Alison watched Bud disappear into the white fog in the distance, flurries dancing in the surrounding lights.

"I don't know, but the less he knows the better." Emily turned towards her dad's grave again. "My guess is that whoever did this won't be coming back. They were almost caught both times. Too risky."

"Let's hope not."

When Emily blinked, her vision flashed and the red lettering reappeared. She shuddered quietly. After starting at her dad's name for a few seconds something dawned on her.

Emily faced the blonde.

"Ali…" Her eyes were sharp and focused. "Your mother…"

It didn't take long for Alison to comprehend Emily's apprehension. It honestly hadn't even occurred to her because she was so busy focusing on Emily's father that she hadn't stopped to consider that her mother was a target, too.

"Oh my God. We have to find her." Alison's eyes were burning from the cold, or maybe she was on the verge of crying.

Alison didn't have any idea where she was going, but Emily followed her lead as they weaved throughout the cemetery looking for Jessica DiLaurentis.

They finally found her name etched on to the wall in a Mausoleum twenty minutes later. Her plaque, complete with a vase of flowers attached to it was unscathed. Not only was the marble untouched, but the flowers were fresh. Someone had been there recently. Someone who cared about Alison's mother.

Someone Jason paid most likely, since he was supposedly out of town.

Even knowing that did not make Alison feel any better, because that meant that Emily was the only one being targeted.

It made Alison feel like shit. She hadn't even visited her mother since her death. And Emily had been pushing through her grief and devastation to take the time to visit her dad. She loved and cared for her dad. Alison wasn't even sure what her feelings about her mother actually were.

It felt like a taunt.

It felt like Charlotte.

Emily stared at Jessica DiLaurentis's name, not giving anything away. Her stoic expression hid the fact that she was keeping secrets from her partner.

Thoughts were running rampant through the brunette's mind. She was piecing things together.

By now, Charlotte knew that she had a visitor.

"I need to tell you something." Emily had been ready to confess everything to Alison seconds before Alison saw her father's headstone.

Was this a message from Charlotte? And if it was…what was she trying to say?

If Charlotte knew Emily was coming to visit her, what was her game? The She-Bitch had to know that Emily was not there to play nice. Was she trying to intimidate her? Was it a threat?

"I don't understand." Alison whispered as she traced her fingers across her mother's tomb.

"What do you mean?" Emily stood behind her, watching her motions carefully.

"Why…" Alison blinked and tears burned her eyes. "Why someone would hurt your dad."

"He's gone, Ali. It's not like words and some broken decorations can hurt him."

"But they can hurt you." Alison growled, livid. "She's so cruel."

Emily wrapped her arms around Alison. The blonde felt like a tiny ball ready to explode. But Emily's embrace was like putting a pin in a grenade. She pulled Alison back from the brink.

When Alison pulled back she glanced at her mother's final resting place.

The Mausoleum was so quiet they could hear the echo of every breath that was taken. It seemed so strange to be alive in a place where the dead rested.

"I have so much to say to her." Alison reached out to touch the expensive marble. "I don't know where to start."

Did you ever love me, mommy?

"Do you want some time alone with her?"

Alison shook her head.

"I don't think I'm ready." She curled her arms around herself, telling herself the chill she was feeling was from the weather. "I wasn't planning on visiting her today. I just wanted to be there for you. I think I need more time."

"Okay." Emily reached for her hand. "We can go."

Alison took it and the two of them walked out into the howling wind and bone-chilling temperatures. A light dusting of snow was starting to accumulate. The news had called for a couple of inches, but nothing drastic.

The cold was the worst part, especially for two women who had been spoiled by the California sun, though sometimes the heat could be just as brutal as the cold.

When they got to the car Emily brushed the snow from her windshield and then dusted her gloves off before climbing in the car.

Alison was already in the front seat. She was staring at the Mausoleum in the distance. At least now she knew where her mother was buried.

Emily was so focused on the road driving home that she barely said a word.

"Hey, Em…" Alison softly cleared her throat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." For the first time since they'd left the graveyard she flinched. "Do you?"

Alison paused to consider her answer. She had no idea what she would say even if she wanted to talk about it.

"No. I don't think so. Maybe later."

"Yeah." Emily glanced at her long enough to shoot her a smile.

When they pulled in the driveway Alison was eager to make a mad dash for the front door. She was halfway out the door when Emily grabbed her arm.

"I need some time alone this afternoon." She was so angry, but she wasn't sure where that anger was going to lead her.

"Okay, I'll steer clear…"

"Oh, no…sorry…I meant I'm not going inside right now. I'm going to clear my head with a drive."

That seemed like a horrible idea. A recipe for disaster. Emily…angry and driving in bad conditions.

"Emily, the weather is getting worse."

"I'll be fine." Emily assured her. "My dad taught me how to drive in the snow."

"Yeah, but what if it ices over?" Alison was ready to put her foot down and drag Emily in the house, but then she remembered the look of devastation that she'd seen on her face at the graveyard.

She thought of Pam's words earlier,

"Emily doesn't do well with grief."

And Alison knew Emily needed her solace and peace.

"I'll be back before it gets that bad." Emily squeezed her arm. "I'll be okay."

Alison seemed hesitant to let her go, but one thing she'd learned about her girlfriend was that she always did what she said she'd do.

Most of the time.

"Text me to let me know you're okay."

"I will."

It wasn't until Alison got into the house that she realized that she still had Emily's phone in her pocket. She'd grabbed it off of the ground when it fell from Emily's jacket in the graveyard.

Emily didn't realize it was missing until a while later when she was pulling on to the street where Welby was located. Her visitation wasn't until tomorrow, but she wanted to watch the place to see if anyone suspicious slipped into the gates.

Charlotte was clearly behind what was happening to them, but she'd been detained in a tight psychiatric hold on and off for the past month. So she had a puppet out there that she was controlling. And that meant they were in real danger.

Emily refused to let anything happen to Alison.

She stared at the building in the distance, her hands tight on the steering wheel. When she let go she could feel the blood rushing back to her fingers.

She reached for her phone to text Alison…only to realize she didn't have it.

"Well, that's inconvenient." She muttered to herself.

Her eyes drifted back to the building, and the anger burning from inside her sent a burst of heat into her veins. All she could think about were those words desecrating her father's grave. And the hole in Jesus's head. It took a really messed up person to do that.

She wasn't going to just threaten Charlotte. She was going to fucking strangle her. She had half a mind to stride right into the building and demand to see her now.

She wasn't sure what she was the most furious about. The way Charlotte had been torturing Alison. The fact that she had destroyed her friends in high school. Or the fact that her father's final resting place had been so violently violated.

She was so busy fuming that it took her a moment to realize she hadn't even put herself in the equation.

Her hands loosened on the steering wheel.

She had a habit of projecting her pain into passion for helping others. She didn't like being the victim, so she sought out people who needed help to suppress her own trauma.

She'd done it back in high school with Sara Harvey.

That was before she'd found out the truth and decked Sara so hard that the girl ended up with burns on her hands so severe that they were barely functional.

Maybe Sara is part of this. It was a fleeting thought. Maybe this is the wrong move. Maybe I need to find Sara. Hell…maybe I need to find Wren.

She was doing it again. She was trying to play the hero with Alison just like she had done with Sara.

She didn't mind being there for the blonde. Alison had certainly been there for her, too. But she had gotten so good at burying her own pain that when she remembered the trauma it hit her like a freight train.

She had closed some of the more horrifying memories behind locked doors in her mind, and every single one of them was suddenly open.

The car was too small.

She couldn't breathe.

She flung the car door open and was blasted in the face with the unforgiving winter wind. But she didn't feel the cold. In fact, her body felt like it was on fire. Her heart burned in her chest.

She stumbled out of the car and fell to the ground. The small amount of snow that had accumulated felt good against her angry sweaty palms.

She tried to get up, but before she could move her vision wavered and she was in the dark.

The lights in the room had been off for far too long.

It was pitch black.

It had been terrifying at first. But now she didn't care.

She had gone days without water.

She was withering away.

She tried not to cry at night…or what her perception of night was, but it was hard not to.

Were the others going through the same thing?

It hurt her heart to think about them writhing in agony from the dehydration.

Spencer probably knew everything there was to know about how a body shut down without water.

She seemed to recall a science class they took about nutrients and how people could survive for weeks without food, but their body would start to fail on them only days without water.

She was so thirsty she understood why people drank their own pee when they were in hard survivor mode.

She was so weak she could barely stand.

She was slowly dying. She knew it. She could feel it.

That's what their captor did. They pushed them to the brink of death and then slowly brought them back.

The alarm blared.

It was so loud and she was so weak that it hurt her entire body.

The red lights started flashing, which only intensified the pounding in her head.

The lights hurt her eyes. It was like a blinding hot fire piercing her retinas.

Even so, when her door opened she managed to get to her feet. She swayed uneasily, but she knew she couldn't stay in her "room" any longer.

When she reached the entrance she realized that only one other door was open.

She limped towards where Hanna was being kept prisoner.

Her once wildly sassy lively friend was sitting in the corner curled up into a ball. Her clothes were too small for her and ripped. A design by the sick mind holding them hostage to remind Hanna of her insecurities about her body.

The monster knew them well enough to strip them of their dignity and use their most agonizing secrets against them.

"Hanna…" Her voice was dry and weak and drowned out by the alarms.

The blonde didn't look up. Her face was buried in her knees. She was shaking, sobbing, her hands over her ears to block out the blaring alarm.

The alarm stopped, but Hanna continued to rock in the corner.

The lights flickered on. The dull yellow glow burned Emily's eyes. She felt as if she was staring directly into the sun.

She blinked a few times and then walked over and slid down next to her friend.

It was only then that Hanna realized she was there. She felt Emily touch her knee.

At first she jerked and moved to scramble away, but then she realized it was just Emily and she fell into her arms.

"I can't do this anymore." Hanna cried. "I don't have anything left in me. I just wish A would kill us and get it over with."

Emily knew exactly how she felt, but she'd never been one to give up.

Hanna looked so broken. It tore into Emily's emotions. She was heartbroken, but she was also furious.

Hanna had been very intent on getting out when they had first been dumped into this hellhole.

But as the weeks wore on, their tormentor completely tore her down.

A had a twisted sense of humor. Whoever was doing it wanted to keep them away from the outside world, but the outside world came to them with news articles and magazine stories about their disappearance.

Their parents were taking it very hard, especially Hanna's mother. She was in the hospital, sick with grief.

They, of course, didn't know that Pam Fields was by her side. It wouldn't have helped either way. Because their families were suffering.

Knowing that her mother was fragile and her body was failing and she was in the hospital had been the final straw that broke Hanna.

Her mother needed her.

And she wasn't there.

"I can't sleep. I can't even hear myself think. I cry all the time. I can't eat…" Her eyes darted across the room to a bucket and an empty food tray.

Emily peered at the bucket and then looked at the agonizing look on Hanna's face.

"A makes me throw up." The blonde turned away in shame.

"What?" Emily's eyes widened.

"If I 'misbehave' I get notes with my food. It's written punishments that you all will go through if I don't make myself binge and purge."

Her eyes were tearing up.

Emily wanted to cry for her, but her eyes were so dry they felt like sandpaper.

She had enough strength to squeeze Hanna's hand.

She knew how much her friend struggled with her body…how she'd developed an Eating Disorder because she was ashamed of her body. How every single bully in their lives had used it against her.

Of course their captor would use it against her.

It was so vile.

"I'm so sorry." Emily whispered. She carefully broached what she wanted to say next. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There isn't much to say. Back when I first started purging I was…it was so lonely. Alison used to make all those comments about my body and it chipped away at me, and then she showed me how to get rid of everything I ate. But even before that I felt…not right in my own body. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without staring at my imperfections. Even after I got treatment I still had the urge to do it sometimes. And then when I got to a certain point I started to feel really good. And then Mona and those damn cupcakes…"

This instance wasn't the first time Hanna had been forced to purge against her will. Mona had done it to her when she was playing her game.

"I don't know. My head is just kind of spinning right now. I'm so hungry, but that little girl in me who hated herself when she looked in the mirror is always there. I haven't gotten a meal in a few days. My stomach hurts. But I'm afraid when I do see food again I won't want it. We're going to die down here." Hanna choked on a sob.

Emily embraced her. She felt like skin and bones in her arms. She wasn't sure how long they'd been held captive, but it was starting to take a toll.

She couldn't stand to see her friends so broken. She knew she couldn't let Hanna give up. The determination in her response was unmistakable,

"We can't give up." She pulled back and wiped Hanna's wet cheeks. "What this monster is doing to us…to you…we can't let them get away with this." She grumbled something about torturing this person for shattering Hanna's mental well-being…really…all of their well-being. "We're going to get through this together. We have to make it out of here."

Hanna didn't seem so sure.

"My mom is getting worse. She won't eat or drink. What if she dies?"

"Your mom hasn't given up on you."

Hanna nodded, tears in her eyes. She wiped her face. She'd been crying long before Emily got there.

Hanna's devastation gave way to something else.

Fear.

"How did you get out?"

"My door opened."

"Why?"

Emily was as skeptical as Hanna. Usually they were only let out of their rooms for punishment.

"I don't know."

Hanna studied Emily for a few seconds. She looked pale. And her voice sounded strange

Hanna's dull blue eyes sparked back to life when she had the revelation.

"Emily, you have to go." She scrambled to her feet. "You have to go back to your room…"

Before Emily could ask her why, the door slammed shut, trapping them both inside.

Hanna let out a moan.

"This is my fault." Tears rolled down her cheeks again.

Emily didn't have it in her to cry. She was bone dry. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had to pee.

"I did something." Hanna lowered her voice, knowing full well that the cameras would probably pick it up. "I saw Mona."

"Okay." Emily managed to get to her feet.

"I thought we were smooth. I didn't think A would see us passing the note. We were trying to work on a plan. To get us out. Mona disappeared after that. I think…she's being punished. And now…it's my turn."

Emily knew all too well what it was like to watch someone she loved being tortured.

Hanna's heart was so soft. She wouldn't be able to stand it.

"Listen…" Emily's mouth felt like sandpaper. She was thirsty. So fucking thirsty. "Whatever happens…it's not on you, okay?"

Emily knew Hanna blamed herself for what her mother was going through, even though it wasn't her fault.

"We're going to be okay. We…"

Before she could finish, the vent in Hanna's room opened and the sound of hissing filled the air.

"Cover your mouth." Hanna rushed to the bed, yanking the sheets off.

But even with their makeshift masks the gas permeated the air they were breathing and made them feel woozy.

Emily dropped to the floor first.

She had no energy left to fight.

She needed water so badly.

The lights flickered off.

Hanna collapsed next to her.

The door flew open, but they were too incapacitated to move.

A shadow hovered over them, a large gas mask covering their face.

Emily urged her hands to shoot out and grab their captor's ankle, maybe bring the asshole down to their level.

Maybe Hanna could make a run for it.

But where would she run? They were underground, and above ground was filled with electric fences.

The person torturing them really had a hard-on for electricity. Sometimes Emily wondered what the electric bill to the bunker must be. And who paid it?

A hand tangled roughly into Emily's hair, yanking so hard she felt it in her scalp.

She wasn't sure if she cried out or not, but given Hanna's reaction…she had made some kind of noise that indicated pain.

"Emily!" Hanna shrieked, reaching for her in the darkness. "No!"

"Hanna…" Emily murmured.

"Don't hurt her!" Hanna cried.

Emily was swirling in the darkness.

Everything was pitch black around her, but she could hear Hanna's screams and protests.

She tried to fight her way through the murky thoughts.

She felt something cool and wet in her mouth.

Water.

She so desperately needed water that she welcomed it.

But the water wasn't being offered to her. It was being forced through a cloth.

Emily knew what was happening. Every family member of a service member knew what waterboarding was.

A form of torture that slowly drowned someone to try and force them to say or do something.

Only their captor wasn't asking Emily to do anything. She was being used to punish Hanna, which was worse than actually being tortured.

She could hear Hanna shouting obscenities.

When the water started to fill her lungs she panicked.

She was back in the well…drowning.

And then she was back in Rosewood High's swimming pool being shoved under the water by her now ex-girlfriend.

"Stop it you fucking psycho!" Hanna yelled.

Something clanked against the ground.

Chains.

Hanna was chained up being forced to watch in the same manner that Emily had watched Spencer in the hot shower.

Unfortunately, the more Hanna threatened their captor…the more Emily was punished.

"You're going to kill her!" Hanna shrieked. "Stop! I'm sorry! I'll do whatever you want! I'm sorry I was bad! I'll be good! I promise!"

She sounded like a terrified child.

The water stopped pouring into Emily's mouth and she violently started coughing.

She had just gotten over pneumonia. She was probably going to get it again.

The rag was ripped away from Emily's face.

Her nose and throat were burning. Her eyes were red and bloodshot.

The shadowy figure emerged blurry in her field of vision…wearing a gas mask.

"Em…are you okay?"

Emily coughed and managed a nod.

Hanna and Emily exchanged a look seconds before they were individually hauled back to their rooms.

Emily was met with a bottle of antibiotics, several doses of pain killers, and two huge glasses of water.

Of course she wouldn't be getting pneumonia again.

It was Hanna's "punishment". Not hers.

Emily couldn't breathe. She squeezed fistfuls of snow into her palms and gasped for air.

I'm not drowning. She silently told herself. It's just a memory.

Her anxiety was squeezing the life out of her.

She hadn't had a panic attack in a long time. Not one that hadn't stemmed from a nightmare or a trigger. But the tightness in her chest and the jolts of electricity surging through her body were unmistakable.

She'd always heard doctors say that panic attacks felt a lot like a heart attack. And it was true. She felt like she was dying.

Breathe…

She slowly counted to ten trying to get her bearings.

One…

She inhaled deeply.

Two…

She continued counting until she made it to ten.

The wet snow was starting to dampen her clothes.

She managed to stagger to her feet.

She sank back into the seat of the car, her feet still planted firmly on the snowy ground. She leaned out the door, letting the cold air bring her back to reality.

Everything around her was still spinning.

She stared at the building.

"I have got to get a grip." How was she supposed to stand up to Charlotte if she froze when she saw her?

She hadn't even gone inside the building yet.

She swiveled her legs back into the car. They felt like dead weight.

She slammed the door and cranked up the heat, sitting there and trying to warm up for nearly ten minutes.

Her head was pounding. She propped her elbows on her knees and leaned forward against the palms of her hands, staring down at the floorboard underneath her feet.

She blinked several times, trying to clear her hazy vision.

She slowly looked up into the mirror. Her hair was tussled from too many reckless run-throughs with her shaky hands. She dug her thumb and her forefinger into her eyes, trying to recount how many hours of sleep she'd gotten over the past month.

The total tally: not much.

The building was taunting her from a distance.

So close.

You know you want to.

She stared at it for another fifteen minutes.

Then she pulled back on to the road, driving around with nowhere in particular in mind.

It wasn't until dusk settled in that she realized how long she'd been gone.

She drove by the graveyard for a final check before heading home, satisfied to see that her dad's headstone was still clean. Bud was still driving the grounds on the cart, no doubt on high alert after what had happened to Wayne's grave. He seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on Emily's father's final resting place. He drove by to make sure that the person at the grave wasn't the hooligan who defaced it. Once he saw it was Emily he tipped his hat at her and kept going.

Emily touched the top of the grave and whispered, "I love you, dad. I'm so sorry about earlier. Bud is going to look out for you, okay? He's got your six" and then she was on her way again.

She made one final stop to buy a new Baby Jesus to replace the old one.

On her way back to the house she ended up stuck in traffic because of a wreck.

It was almost dark when she pulled into the driveway, but her entire driveway was lit up by all the fanatical Christmas decorations. The lights nearly blinded her.

Toby was sitting on her front steps waiting on her. He'd shoved a six pack of beer into the snow, keeping it nice and cool.

He didn't say a word as he pulled two beers up, holding one out to her. She collapsed on the steps next to him, setting the Jesus down next to her.

"Thanks."

He nodded.

They both cracked the tops off. Toby took a sip of his. Emily stared inside the bottle. But after a few seconds she swigged some down her throat. It spread a tingling warmth throughout her extremities.

"What are you doing here?" She tilted the bottle back for another drink.

"Waiting for you to come home."

"Alison called you?" Emily guessed.

"She did. She told me about the graveyard."

"What about it?" She swirled the alcohol around in the bottle and frowned down at the snow.

They had been really careful about keeping their friends out of the chaos. If Alison had said something to Toby she must have been really scared.

"The truth." He clucked his tongue. "I think she was afraid it triggered something in you and that you were running off to go on a bender."

"Ironic." Emily glanced at the beer in her hands.

"She said you were drinking more." He studied her, but he wasn't judging her.

So the blonde had gone for complete and total honesty. Probably because she knew that no one knew Emily as uniquely as Toby Cavanaugh.

"It was right after he died. I've tapered off." Emily cupped the bottle with her gloves.

"I know. I wouldn't have offered you one otherwise." He shrugged. "I checked the security cameras, but they didn't catch whoever took the Lord and Savior from your roost." He eyed the new Christmas decoration sitting next to Emily. "Alison is pretty upset. I figured you were blowing off some steam." He tipped his bottle back and pulled in another sip.

"Something like that." She stared at the cylindrical opening of the bottle. Tomorrow she would be face to face with the monster who had been tormenting them. "Where is Alison?"

"Out looking for you." He sat his beer down against the step. "I told her you'd come back when you were ready. Pretty sure she knew that, but she felt helpless just standing around."

"Surprised you're not out there searching, too."

"You always come home, Em." He shrugged. "Even when it hurts…you always come home."

"This sucks." She blew out a breath.

"No kidding." He brushed his hand through his hair. It had gotten a little shaggy. "It's like this town gets a kick out of kids losing their parents and shoving that loss down their throats every chance they get."

Emily shot him a sympathetic glance. He and Alison also belonged to the dead parents club. He wasn't wrong about the town being some kind of curse. It's part of why she'd run away.

"What happened to your dad's grave wasn't the first time someone targeted you, was it?" When he looked her in the eyes it was so hard to lie to him.

It was like lying to the Dalai Lama.

"No." Emily stared into the dark abyss of the bottle.

"How long has it been going on?" He asked.

"A couple of months. It all started when we got back together."

"You think it's Charlotte?" He clenched his jaw, biting back his anger.

The girls hadn't been Charlotte's only victims. Their partners had also had their fair share of torture. Caleb, Toby, Ezra, and Alison had agonized for weeks while the girls were being abused in the Dollhouse.

Toby hated Charlotte as much as everyone else. Maybe even more-so. He knew how to hold a grudge.

"I don't know." She really wasn't sure how Charlotte was pulling it off, but she did suspect that she was behind everything.

"Do the others know?"

"Caleb and Hanna." Emily looked at him and pleaded with him, "Don't tell Spencer. Please. She's not a part of this. None of them are. The last thing Alison and I want is to blow up their lives. For whatever reason she's picked me and Alison to target. She's not interested in anyone else."

At least not yet. She was hoping to stop any plans that Charlotte might have to hurt the other girls.

"Alison was probably originally the target, but once it got out that you two were together you became collateral damage." He picked up his beer and took an angry swig, squeezing it so hard that Emily was afraid the glass might shatter.

"Maybe."

"Caleb doing some damage control for you?" He asked.

"Maybe." She repeated. She didn't want to give too much away.

"You can trust me, Em." His bright blue eyes shone in the moonlight.

"He just did some investigative sleuthing. We told him we don't want him and Hanna to get caught in the crossfire."

She wasn't planning on telling him that Caleb had gotten her a visitation with Charlotte.

He would go ballistic.

"You know…I've got contacts in Welby. People who worked in Radley with my mom and I still have contacts in the police department. I'm sure Lorenzo would…"

"Whatever you're going to say…stop it." Emily shot him an angry glare.

No one in Welby could help her. And she had a longstanding history with the Rosewood Police Department. They were completely and totally inept.

She already had her way in. She knew what she was going to do. She wasn't going to jeopardize Toby's life, especially since he lived in Rosewood.

"You are so stubborn." He grumbled, running his fingers through his hair.

"You need a haircut." She smoothed down some of the edges he'd disrupted. "Don't worry about us. It'll be over soon."

He lifted his brows in intrigue.

"You seem sure about that."

"I've got my mother's intuition." She smiled innocently.

"Might not want to brag about that considering she had no idea you were in the closet for sixteen years. Hell, even I saw it…"

"I think she was in deep denial." Emily chuckled.

"I'm glad you two are okay now."

"So am I." Emily put her beer down. "How has she been doing lately? I've only gotten to spend a little time with her since I've been back. It's hard…being so far away from her. Sometimes I can't sleep because I'm worried about her."

He took a thoughtful breath.

"She's tough. She carries herself well." He glanced at her. "Like someone else I know…she hides it. If I wasn't someone who had experienced loss I'd say she was doing okay." He paused. Emily knew there was a but coming, and she braced herself. "But pain recognizes pain."

Emily felt a pit of guilt in her stomach for not being home with her. Maybe a good daughter would have hit pause on her life for a few months and moved back temporarily. But Emily knew her mother didn't want that for her.

"Sometimes I forget that they had a whole life before me. They had a history. Thirty years of marriage. They had almost an entire decade before me." A lifetime of memories.

Losing a partner was much different than losing a parent. They were grieving for the same person, but they didn't share the exact same grief. Emily tried to imagine how she would feel if something happened to Alison.

It would be like losing half of her heart.

It was unfathomable to think about.

It's why she had to stop Charlotte.

"The terrible thing about tragedy is that it's not with you every waking minute. You block it out. And then you remember it again. And you see it with a stark quality you hadn't before." Toby put his beer between his legs. "Something I learned after my mother died is that it's going to come in waves." He faced her. "Just promise me you won't drown, okay?"

Emily had to take a moment to digest his words. It was ironic that she was usually the one saving people from rough waters.

What did it look like when the rescuer needed rescuing?

"I won't." She promised.

I have Alison to keep me afloat.

They heard the sound of crunching footsteps approaching.

Emily looked up and spotted her coming up the driveway. She was in a big puffy coat with a fuzzy hood. Frayed edges of her blonde hair spilled out of the sides of the hoodie.

Her thick boots were heavy against the snow. She had gloves on her hands. Her cheeks were pink from the cold air.

Alison's scared blue eyes met hers with relief.

"Emily!"

"Found her." Toby held up his beer, toasting to the air.

"Actually, I found him." Emily pushed herself to her feet. "Hey."

She opened her arms to embrace Alison, who gladly accepted.

"Hey, I've been looking for you." There was an edge of concern in her voice.

"Sorry. I got stuck behind a wreck for a while. I would have called, but…"

"I have your phone." Alison finished her sentence for her. "I realized it a few minutes after you left."

"I should have come back for it, but I didn't realize it. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to disappear on you. Especially not for that long." Emily cupped Alison's gloved hands with her own.

"It's okay." Alison leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I get it. Sometimes I need to be alone, too. It's not like I'm an old ball and chain or anything."

Emily chuckled.

"You want to go look at Christmas lights?" The brunette suggested.

Maybe the festivities would brighten the tense atmosphere.

Or maybe the flashing lights would trigger Emily into another suppressed memory of the Dollhouse.

Their lives were a mixed bag.

"Maybe tomorrow." Alison wrapped her arms around her body to generate warmth. "Plus, you've been drinking…"

The blonde frowned in disapproval.

"I've had all of two sips. Wouldn't take me long to sober up from that."

"It's okay. I'm kind of tired. I'd prefer a night in with you tonight. We have plenty of time to see the lights."

"Okay."

Alison turned her attention to Toby, who was getting to his feet.

"Thanks for staying." She had wanted someone home in case Emily came home.

Pam was out with her friends doing a gift exchange.

"You were right." Alison added. She faced Emily. "He said you would come home."

"Yeah." Emily's eyes met Toby's, a sad look in them.

"Even when it hurts…you always come home."

Toby nodded to acknowledge Emily's gaze. He knew what she was saying without her having to convey the words.

"You want to come in for dinner?" Alison offered, silently hoping he'd decline.

She wanted some time alone with Emily.

Toby seemed to pick up on that.

"No, thanks. I've got some errands to run."

Alison smiled at him and he smiled back.

"I'll put up Jesus first thing tomorrow morning when I've got my tools." He grabbed the six-pack and said his goodbyes.

"Thanks." Emily kicked her boots against the edge of the steps to shake the snow loose and then walked up on to the porch.

Alison did the same and followed her lead.

"I can't believe you told him." Emily slid her key into the door and fiddled with the lock.

"Yeah…well…you told Caleb and Hanna, so now we're even. Plus, I was worried about you." Alison brushed some snow off of her shoulders. "And I didn't even tell him everything. I just told him about your dad's grave."

"It's fine." Emily ushered her inside the warmth of the house. She shut off the alarm. "He would have figured it out anyway. I think he suspected. He checked our security cameras already. Didn't see anything."

When they walked inside Emily saw the blonde shudder and she realized that her clothes were damp. The boots had protected her feet, but she'd clearly been out walking long enough for the coat to soak up some of the wet mushy snow.

"You're freezing."

"I'm fine." Alison pulled her gloves off, but another shudder wracked her body.

"You look like a giant icicle. Your lips are blue." Emily peered at her in concern.

"What?" Alison spun around looking for a mirror.

Emily grabbed her hand and let out a quiet laugh.

"I didn't mean literally." She tugged on Alison's hand. "Come on. I need to get out of these boots and shed a few layers anyway."

Unlike Alison, she'd spent most of the day in the car. She was worried that the blonde might have caught a cold.

When they got into Emily's room Emily plopped down on the edge of her bed and leaned over to start unlacing her boots.

Alison kicked hers off with ease. She preferred quick changes with her fashion. She tugged the hoodie off over her head and shed the first layer and then pulled the thick sweatshirt she was wearing underneath off. She pulled off her pants, leaving her in a T-shirt and underwear.

When she looked over at Emily she noticed the brunette had plucked one of her shoes off, but had frozen pulling her second boot off. She was staring at a picture of her with her parents when she was a baby.

Alison softly padded over to her just as she dropped the shoe.

"You know what I wish someone had told me about losing a parent?" She stood in front of Emily, playing with her hair.

She loved her hair. It was so soft and silky.

"What?" Emily looked up at her.

When they were in this position Emily looked so much more vulnerable. Now that she was close to her she could see the weary look in her eyes.

"That no matter how old you get you still feel like a 5-year-old letting go of their hand for the first time when you walk into kindergarten. Not that my mom ever held my hand." She scoffed, covering her sadness with irritability. "It's just that when you think about them and miss them you want them to hug you and tell you that everything is going to be okay. But they're gone. And you're just a scared kid again who wants mommy and daddy."

Emily put her hands against Alison's hips and pulled her forward an inch.

"I wish I could have been there for you." She leaned forward and pressed her head against Alison's stomach.

She knew every inch of the blonde's body like it was her own.

Alison cupped her cheek and gently tilted her chin up.

"You were there for me." Her cerulean eyes were full of confusion.

Emily had curled in the bed with her as she wept after her mother's death. She had held her in her arms. She had been by her side at her mother's funeral. She had gone above and beyond.

"I meant before…when we were kids. You deserved someone who cared about you…someone who would have walked you into kindergarten holding your hand." She moved her palm up against Alison's waist. "I never would have let go."

It was one of the sweetest things that Emily had ever said to her, and Emily said a lot of sweet things to her.

Alison had no idea how to respond, so she reciprocated.

"I wish I could have been there for you, too." She caressed her warm cheek.

It must have been hard for Emily living under her mother's strict rule while her dad was away overseas.

"I'm so sorry about your dad's grave," Alison said quietly.

Alison had seen the anguish in Emily's eyes. When she saw the graffiti her pain had been visceral.

It was clearly haunting her.

"At least we got it scrubbed clean." Emily sighed. "Thank you for helping."

"Of course. I know you would have done the same for me."

"Always." Emily flashed a weak smile.

"So where did you go today?" Alison questioned.

"I mostly just drove." It was a half-truth. She did drive. She just left out the destination.

She was scared of telling Alison the truth knowing that someone was physically out there who could harm her.

"You just…drove?" Alison lifted a skeptical brow. "For hours?"

"Yeah." Emily's hands slipped up on to Alison's waist underneath her shirt. They were warm from the gloves and the heat of the car. "My mom told me that when I was little and I was upset my dad would put me in the car-seat and drive around with me for hours to calm me down."

Alison smiled softly at the image she had in her head of Emily as an infant. She'd seen a few pictures. She'd been a cute baby. Wide eager eyes. Joyous little smile. Chubby cheeks. Messy dark hair atop her head.

"You were so cute as a baby."

Emily's nose crinkled and tiny lines formed in her brow.

"I looked like an old man." She laughed.

"No, you didn't!" Alison argued. She gestured to the picture Emily had been looking at minutes ago. "Look. Look at that sweet little face." She squeezed Emily's cheek. "I love your face."

It was such a silly thing to say. It made them both laugh.

"I love your face, too. I love it more when my lips are touching it." Emily reached up and gently gripped the fabric near the collar of Alison's shirt and pulled her down for a kiss.

Alison moved her palms towards the sides of her neck. It was a new kind of embrace. Normally she didn't have a height advantage over Emily. It was surprisingly sensual. She held the power in her gentle hands.

Their lips parted and Alison slid her tongue into Emily's mouth, relishing in the purring noises that reverberated between them.

She felt Emily's fingers slide down the length of her thigh, curving inward. Her fingertips brushed against the scar on her inner thigh, and for a brief second Alison was back in her past, back on the eve she got the scar from a man she had been on the run with.

His weight against hers.

His arm cutting off her airway.

Her backside scraping painfully against the wall.

The terror and the sinking feeling of being overpowered.

She struggled, but he didn't stop.

Her fingernails digging into his arm.

The cool tip of a blade pressed against her exposed thigh.

Searing hot pain when the knife pierced her skin.

Her cries echoing in the air.

No one came for her.

No one helped her.

After he was done with her he stole everything she owned.

Cyrus had run off into the night with all of her things as she lay broken and bleeding on the basement of an abandoned warehouse.

She gasped into the kiss and Emily pulled back. Her eyes were filled with kindness and sympathy, and a hint of rage seething underneath her calm demeanor because of what the man had done to Alison.

But Cyrus wasn't the only one Emily was angry at. She had to tamp down her hatred for Alison's sister.

She wanted her girlfriend to feel safe and loved. She wanted to take her pain away.

"You okay?" Emily pressed a feathery kiss against Alison's stomach.

She saw the way the blonde twitched beneath her touch.

"Yeah."

Emily moved down off of the mattress, softly balancing on her knees. She kneeled in front of the blonde and laid her forehead against Alison's tone abdominal muscles. She pressed her lips against her belly and peppered her with kisses.

She kissed her way down her thighs as her fingertips tugged at the hem of Alison's panties, slowly pulling them down.

She stopped long enough to gently kiss Alison's scar before she moved between her legs.

"This okay?" Emily murmured.

"More than okay."

Alison saw stars. She arched her neck as she felt the warmth of Emily's mouth against every nerve ending on her body.

She stepped out of her panties and shimmied back. Emily ended up on one knee for a brief moment, and Alison imagined what it would be like when the brunette proposed to her.

Or maybe she would propose to Emily.

Emily pulled her sweatshirt off when she got to her feet and shed her pants and underwear. Then she sat against the edge of the bed again and reached for Alison.

Alison sat down, straddling her bare thighs.

Emily wrapped her arms around Alison and pulled her closer. Alison moved her body in waves against the brunette's until Emily couldn't stand it anymore.

Emily kicked her feet off of the floor and spun around until Alison's back was against the mattress.

The pressure and heat of Emily's body against hers warmed Alison up. The chill of the wintry weather was nothing but a fading memory.

Alison lightly raked her nails across the brunette's back and felt her sigh into the kiss. When Alison's fingertips traced the scar that ran the length of her shoulder down to her spine she felt a fire growing inside of her veins.

Her sister had tormented the woman she loved. She had hurt her in ways that Alison would never be able to understand. And she never knew the extent of it. Charlotte rarely talked about it, and every time she had tried to talk to Emily about it after they got out of the Dollhouse…Emily shut down. She was only now learning bits and pieces of what had happened.

Alison shifted underneath Emily, being careful not to break their kiss as she rolled them slightly sideways.

Emily was happy to comply as Alison perched on top of her and deepened their embrace. Sweat prickled the back of her neck as their bodies moved.

After several minutes of the intense intimacy of their kisses Emily was rolling Alison back over. She broke the kiss and delicately pecked her lips down from the back of her ear to the curve of her neck.

Alison shuddered when she felt the brunette's heated breath against her ear. Seconds later Emily's silky lips were against her pulse point, gently sucking as she moved her palm up to cup Alison's right breast.

When Emily touched her Alison felt like she was adrift, floating in a calm current. Every time they made love her feelings deepened in ways like she'd never felt before.

It wasn't just that they understood each other.

They understood each other in a way that no one else could possibly relate. It was an elusive way of knowing one another even if you couldn't find the words to verbally explain it.

It was simply knowing what the other person needed.

Time to hold her.

Time for her to hold me.

Time to reach for her.

Time for her to reach for me.

It was impossible to put into words. How could you explain to others that you found something in someone that you'd been waiting for your entire life?

Fate was underrated to describe how much she felt for the brunette.

To her…it was more like finding her way home.

A home she had a choice in.

A safe place she'd always secretly hoped for and imagined, but where she'd never settled in before.

Home was what they were to each other.

Home.

Alison reached up to mimic Emily's actions, but she had both hands free so she was having double the fun.

She moved her right palm down Emily's slick tone abdomen. Her skin was dripping with perspiration.

She smiled deviously at the brunette as her fingers drifted lower.

When her fingertips started gently moving against her soft flesh Emily paused in her stride just long enough to arch back and take a shuddering breath.

Alison gently put her other hand against her waist and pushed her sideways so she could watch her from above.

She took control.

Her lips moved between Emily's bosom as she tried to push Emily to forget all of her pain and focus on the pleasure.

She succeeded.

Seconds later Emily mewled out her name, which sent a shiver down Alison's spine.

Their bodies moved gently together, the rhythm of a heartbeat combining as one.

Emily lost herself in their actions.

She loved the way Alison kissed. She loved the way she tasted. She loved her scent and the way she felt.

Most of all, she loved having the blonde in her arms.

She had missed her so much in their time apart. She had wanted so badly to stay connected when she'd left. But she sensed Alison's growing unease on the phone and they'd let time slip through their fingers.

She wasn't going to let that happen again. She loved her and never wanted to lose her again. And she would do anything to make her feel safe and loved.

When she'd kissed the scar on the inside of Alison's thigh it had given her a new sense of courage for her face off with Charlotte DiLaurentis.

Charlotte was at fault for everything that happened to Alison while she was on the run.

Mona had started the game, but Charlotte was the reason Alison had been so terrified that she'd run away in the first place.

Their mother chose to protect Charlotte that night.

Emily was choosing to protect Alison now…and every day for the rest of their lives.

"Emily…" Alison uttered out her name, running her fingers through the brunette's long locks. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

I love you more than enough to face off with the devil for you.

She would battle her way through hell for Alison if it meant that the blonde would be safe in her arms every night for the rest of their lives.

---

A/N: Some shit is about to go doooown…

Do we think Emily is angry enough to go through with the visit? Between what happened to her dad's grave (BABY JESUS, NOOOOOOO) and the flashbacks she's having to the torture in the Dollhouse (poor Hanna)...what do we think she'll say to Charlotte if she comes face to face with her? Or will she just hit her? Will Alison find out? Will Toby keep Emily's secrets (of course he will...he's Toby. Right? RIGHT?). And most importantly...who the hell is Charlotte talking to on the outside?

Hope you all enjoyed the little moments of intimacy. There are a few more spicy chapters coming up where our girls get hot and heavy.