Author's Note: Since Alison and Paige are both experiencing radio silence from Emily in their own ways, I thought it made sense to explore how Alison is coping with it. Especially since the last chapter was Paige's POV. The next chapter will focus almost entirely on Alison and Emily. I hope you're enjoying the story so far, your reviews make me smile :)

Please be aware of the following trigger warnings: torture, murder, and violence.

... ...

Alison ignored the knock at the door, she was busy lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling as if the cracks and crevices would suddenly offer up some sort of revelation. Her lunch with Emily felt like two steps forward and one step back. It was confusing and left her feeling all turned around. They were making progress at first, Emily may not have said anything but she was listening, Alison could tell. But after she fitted Emily's splint and gave the brunette Tylenol to help manage the pain, Emily went back to her room and stayed there for the rest of the day, leaving Alison to figure out what went wrong.

A few hours later she'd brought Emly dinner and more pain meds but something had shifted. Emily sat facing the wall away from Alison and ignored her attempts at conversation even if it was one sided. Alison could have kept trying to talk to her, she could have forced Emily to turn around and look at her but neither of those options felt right. She left the plate of food and the medicine on the bed, Ben or Noel could come in later and clean up. Alison was halfway to her room when she stopped and debated turning around, it would be hard for Emily to eat with one hand. She could go back, try again. Alison shook off the thought, Emily would have to manage. The constant rejection stung and she needed time to cool off.

The next morning Alison planned for her and Emily to have breakfast together but Emily never came out of the room. She was at the top of the stairs in an instant, ready to drag Emily to the kitchen island. She decided against it, knowing it would only cause the brunette to pull further away if that was even possible. When she made it back downstairs she sent both place settings clattering to the floor with a harsh swipe of her arm. "It sucks getting stood up," Noel had remarked sarcastically. Alison leveled him a glare before leaving him to clean up the aftermath.

Things went like that for the next two days. No glares, no eye rolling, no snarky huffs. Emily gave her nothing. Absolutely nothing. Alison would take another hit to the ribs if it meant the brunette would just look at her. It was really getting under her skin, and the quiet of the suburbs didn't help, she had nothing else to focus on. Their conversation during lunch replayed in her head on a loop. It was after she'd brought up the territory split that Emily had completely shut her out. She couldn't understand why it bothered Emily so much. Alison didn't care that she wasn't supposed to be at the club that night. Splitting up the city was stupid and she had told Paige and her father that on multiple occasions. Other than the McCullers being outright scum, it was one of her major pain points with their alliance. Being told that she couldn't go somewhere irritated her to no end.

There was another knock at the door and Alison knew she shouldn't ignore it a second time, "Come in."

"You were in that same spot the last time I came in here, four hours ago," Noel observed.

"Did Emily take her meds?" Alison sat up, ignoring Noel's comment.

He came further into the room, "Like clockwork. She ate, took the meds, and showered. She's good for another four hours."

Alison nodded, expecting Noel to turn and leave but he hovered instead. She watched as he shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. Something was on his mind.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Alison quipped.

"I have a serious question,"

"A serious question? Well, don't hurt yourself," She teased him some more.

Noel nodded in jest but once the joke passed his expression was serious, "You don't look so good."

"That's not a question," The smirk on Alison's face fell.

"It's just… the girl has been easy the past few days, she's not giving us any trouble," Noel spoke slowly, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. "The longer we have her, the more things could go wrong… we killed two cops just getting her here. What's the plan?"

"Emily," Alison corrected, "Her name's Emily, and you already know the plan." Alison rose from the bed, taking the few steps needed to stand in front of Noel. "If you have something to say, say it."

"You're distracted," Noel let out a heavy sigh, straightening his back, it wasn't often he questioned her. "The last two days you've been in this room, moping. You keep saying we're waiting on Paige to make the first move but it feels like you're just buying time."

"And if I am? You get paid well enough not to care."

Noel tsked, offended, "You picked a bad time to have your first crush." Noel pointed to Emily's room, "She's playing you, figuring out which buttons to press to get her out of here and back to her wife, and it's working."

Alison acted fast, her hand clamping around Noel's windpipe. He didn't put up a fight, that would only make things worse. Instead, he dropped to a knee, hoping she'd ease up but Alison wasn't budging, "You're the only one pushing buttons right now." Noel rested his hands on Alison's wrist. He was wheezing out what Alison assumed was an apology. "If you don't like how I'm running things, you can leave." He nodded his acknowledgment weakly.

Alison occasionally entertained the idea of killing Noel and Eric, like how she sometimes thought of killing her brother Jason. It was never serious, they just got on her nerves at times. But this situation was different, and Noel was dangerously close to losing consciousness when Alison's phone rang.

She squeezed Noel's windpipe a little tighter before finally letting go and stepping back. "What is it?" She expected to hear Eric's voice on the other end with his daily check in.

The voice of an older man greeted her instead, "I'm looking for Alison DiLaurentis."

"Who's looking?" She clarified.

Alison watched Noel struggle on all fours, gasping for air as she listened to the man on the phone. "Oh, right. This is Alf… from Hardy Auto, a guy was here last week… gave me this number in case there was any trouble."

"Is there trouble?"

"Not yet. I was hoping Alison could come down here and talk to me. She and I have some unfinished business,"

Alison couldn't help but laugh at the audacity, "I'm a bit busy Mr. Hardy. I don't think that that'll be possible. I'll give you a call back when-"

"Oh no no no, missy. You owe me a favor and I'm calling it in," Hardy interrupted. "The shop closes at 5 today, you get here by 6 or my next call is to the police. They're still pretty worked up down there about their missing friends."

The police talk might have scared other people but Alison wasn't like other people. Hardy's attempted intimidation got her blood boiling in the best way. Leaving Emily wasn't something she wanted to do but if Hardy insisted, she could pull herself away for a few hours.

"That won't be necessary Mr. Hardy, I'll be there shortly."

Alison stared at the ended call. Between the suburban stillness and Emily's stubbornness, Noel wasn't completely wrong, she wasn't feeling her best. Things were way too quiet, quiet led to boredom, and boredom was a dangerous companion for Alison. It was starting to feel like she was the one being held captive. Getting Emily away from the eyes and noise of the city was so that Alison could have the time and solitude to peel back the brunette's layers, get to know her. She'd underestimated the toll suburbia would take on her own sanity, and essentially trapped herself. The things people do for love, she chided.

"I need to get out of this house," she muttered, walking around Noel as he coughed and tried to catch his breath on the floor.

Ben moved out of the way when Alison reached Emily's door. She found the brunette inside on the bed, scrubbing her good hand down her face. Alison moved closer and Emily turned away, avoiding her gaze completely. The neckline of Emily's shirt was damp with sweat, and she shined with a layer of it instead of her usual glow, even from a distance. Odd, the AC was on and the room felt comfortable.

"Emily," Alison called out to her but got nothing in response. Emily remained still and closed her eyes. It looked like she was trying to block Alison completely out. Alison sucked in a breath, she wanted to ask more questions but she didn't want to antagonize Emily when it was clear she didn't feel well.

Noel, having composed himself, came in behind her.

Alison could've choked him again if she thought it would help, "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing… could be a fever," Noel rasped, his throat still sore. "Happens sometimes with sprains… should pass."

Knowing there was a reason didn't put Alison at ease. If anything, it made her feel worse knowing that Emily was suffering and there was nothing she could do about it. "Check on her every hour. If it gets any worse, call me."

Alison turned to leave and almost walked straight into Ben who was scratching his head with his mouth hanging open. "He's got some kinda errand…told him to ask you if it was ok," Noel spoke up on his behalf.

She looked between the two "An errand?"

Ben nodded confirmation. If she wasn't about to leave to run her own errand, Alison would have laid into him, kidnapping wasn't some part time gig where you could drop in and out.

"You can keep an eye on her by yourself?" Alison looked to Noel.

It was Noel's turn to nod.

… …

Every step Alison took away from Emily and out of the house felt like she was fighting a gravitational pull. It was a new feeling only made worse by the fact that she had no idea if she was doing the right thing, no reference or experience to pull from. Dr. Sullivan had told her to stay close but Hardy was offering her an out. Even if it was only for a few hours she could leave the cul de sac and recalibrate. Once she had her head on a little straighter she could come back and figure out why Emily was so dejected.

Her first lap around the junkyard was to check for cameras along the perimeter, there were none which was probably why Eric picked the place. She'd taken the car, however Ben got to and from his errand wasn't her problem. A rusty sign hung out front above a chainmail fence and rows of cars lined the front of the property. Hardy's wasn't completely deserted but it was bare, on her way to the garage Alison only spotted one couple looking at the shells of cars and a lone man searching through scrap metal.

"Hardy's Auto Wreckers! Any year, any condition, family owned for over sixty years. Call Hardy Today!" A familiar voice along with a jarring tune came over what sounded like a radio. She followed the noise.

She found the source of it rather quickly, a beat up radio perched on a rusty workbench, its volume cranked up to the max. She scanned the area for any sign of Hardy himself but there was no one in sight. The garage was filled with battered cars, some were missing tires, and others had their hoods propped open. The smell of burnt rubber hung in the air, mixed with paint and other chemicals. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with tools, spare parts, and old manuals, everything coated in dust.

Hearing the faint clicking of metal on metal Alison moved deeper into the garage, weaving through a maze of equipment. Finally, she spotted legs sticking out from under a red sedan. "Mr. Hardy," Alison said loud enough to make herself heard over the radio.

"Yeah, yeah," he drawled in response, rolling out from under the car. "Mr. Hardy was my father, just call me Alf," The bright overhead light cast harsh shadows across his face, highlighting the wrinkles in his skin. His hands were greasy, and his coveralls stained, "You must be Alison." He looked her over. "I didn't think you'd show up. I was sure I'd have to call the police." Hardy walked over to a nearby bench and wiped his hands on a rag.

Again, Hardy's attempt at intimidation fell flat, "That won't be necessary. I owe you a favor and I keep my word. So, tell me why I'm here."

"Sal Ariti," Hardy began, his voice bitter with nostalgia. "Calls himself the Junkyard King, came to Jersey eight years ago. He opened his first yard on the other side of town. It was shiny, new, had all the bells and whistles, people flocked to it…"

Alison leaned against an old pickup, arms crossed as Hardy continued his tale. It was a long story, spanning almost a decade, and despite Alison's interruptions that she didn't need details and that she didn't care, Hardy insisted on telling it from beginning to end. Sal had opened three more salvage and garage locations over the years, the most recent only half a mile from Hardy's Auto Wreckers. According to Hardy, Sal was a real dick about it too, paying top dollar for junk cars.

"...I used to get by, but now I can barely make ends meet. Every customer I lose to Sal is another nail in my coffin." The mention of nails and a coffin brought Alison out of her half listening slump and she looked up from her nails to see Hardy staring at her.

He was waiting for her to express some sympathy or outrage. Instead, she simply raised a brow. "Look, I get it. He's a pain in your ass. Wrap up the sob story and tell me where I can find him."

Alfred's eyes flashed with irritation, but he nodded. "Fine, you want to cut to the chase. Sal's main yard is on the outskirts of town, near the old factory. He's always there, into the dead of night most days, don't know what business he could get done that late." Hardy pulled a pen and pad from his overalls pocket and scribbled the address down.

Alison turned to leave, the smell of oil and metal had started to make her head ache. The old timey music from the radio wasn't helping.

"Just a second missy!" Hardy called after her. She bit the inside of her cheek to remain calm and turned around. Hardy was holding a small piece of metal with a smirk that took up his whole face. "When your boys were here crushing those cars, this snapped off." He held it out for Alison to see, "It's a piece of the plate."

Hardy thought he was crafty but he was like most other men Alison came in contact with, a whole lot of gall and not much to back it up. "Let me guess, you'll give it to me when Sal's out of the way?"

"Pretty and smart, your daddy must be proud," Hardy pocketed the corner of the license plate.

Alison hummed, a smile of her own spreading across her lips. She'd be away from Emily longer than she'd planned but when she did make it back to the house she would be in a brilliant mood.

"Stay by your phone, Hardy. I'll be coming to collect that later tonight."

… …

Paying up to 20,000 for used cars and 3,000 for junk, Alison looked over the pamphlet while she sat in the car. Sal wasn't just paying well, the prices were grossly over market and he was offering cash on the spot. To the average person it probably looked like Sal's business was doing exceptionally well but Alison knew a money laundering scheme when she saw one. Getting rid of Sal wouldn't solve Hardy's problems at all, he was just the face, the personality, whoever was behind him pulling the strings was the real issue.

Not that it mattered to her, Alison owed Hardy a favor and he wanted Sal gone. Anything else wasn't her business. The place was busy, people and cars in and out for the whole two hours she sat across the street. She got her first glimpse of Sal when he came out to walk the yard once but he didn't stay outside long. The workers filed out around 9 and that's when she saw him again, locking up and then returning inside. She should have waited longer, watched him, but she was antsy knowing Sal was in the building alone and unsuspecting.

She found a way in through the back and quietly maneuvered through the space, following the lights to Sal's office. He had yet to turn off the music that filled the building and so he didn't hear her sneak up on him. Sal was on his knees loading money into a large safe when Alison expertly used a jumper cable she'd picked up along the way to strangle him from behind. He struggled but on his knees he had no leverage and went down easy.

While he was out, Alison dragged his body to the garage and finagled one of the pulley systems to hoist him up by his arms. She wheeled over a grease covered steel table with an array of interesting looking tools on it, including a mini reciprocating saw, much like the ones she'd researched. A strained cough told her Sal was beginning to wake up but not fast enough. Alison grabbed a utility knife from the table and brought it over to his body. She cut his shirt open with ease, scrunching her face at the chest and stomach covered in hair.

Alison returned to the table and traded the utility knife for a pair of pliers. Sal shouted and his body jerked when Alison used them to twist the life out of one of his nipples. "Shit," His body jumped again and he looked around, eyes landing on her. His sharp movements caused the pulley system to rattle loudly.

"Stop wiggling so much, it was just a pinch," Alison eyed the table having tossed back the pliers.

"I'm bleeding!" Sal countered. "Whatever this is, we can talk about it. You don't have to do this."

Alison's gaze stayed fixed on the table as she sifted through the tools, "This isn't personal, I'm just a proxy." The quick jump from fear to bargaining confirms what Alison thought about Sal being involved with some unsavory elements. Deciding she had time and he had experience, Alison picked up a nail gun and took it back over to the Junkyard King. Her own gun that she'd left in the car would've sufficed but she preferred getting her hands dirty.

"Tell me what this is about then! If it's money I can pay more, Who sent you?" he thrashed against his restraints.

Alison waited for him to settle before shooting a nail into his shoulder. There was a pistoning sound followed up by another one of Sal's screams. Loud music to cover any noise, an array of tools at her disposal, if she could get over the smells this place wouldn't be so bad.

"Stop, Stop!" Sal pleaded. "I have a wife. I have kids!" it was the usual declaration when someone thought they were about to die. Usually, Alison ignored it but today it was different.

"How long have you been married?" She looked at Sal curiously.

"20..uh..27 years," Sal answered. "If you just tell me who sent you, we can-"

Alison shot him again, this time sending a nail into his chest, "27 years. That's longer than most marriages, right?"

Sal managed a laugh through his pain, "I mean I don't know the national average." Alison sighed and as quick as she could she put two more nails into Sal's chest. The laughing turned into hushed cursed words, "It's not…as long as our parents…but you young people get divorced at the first sign of trouble…so I guess we're doing alright," Sal said through heavy breaths.

Alison patted Sal down, her free hand moving over his clothes. In the pocket of his slacks, she found his cell phone. He groaned at the jostling of his body but didn't complain. She held the phone up to his face, and even in his sweaty and pained state, it unlocked. She went straight to his photos and dozens of pictures showed a smiling blonde woman and several children.

"They look happy," Alison swiped through the album as best she could with one hand still holding the nail gun. "You two ever fight?"

"Like cats and dogs," Sal moaned as if it was obvious. "Don't your parents fight?"

Alison thought about it for a second but quickly realized she had no idea. Her parents were never around much when she was growing up. When they were around most of their time went to Jason and Cece. "My fiancée and I have been…disagreeing. Two days ago she just shut down completely."

If Sal had any snarky comments about Alison's sexuality, he kept them to himself, "What'd you do?"

"Why do you assume it's my fault?" Alison's temper flared and she sent three nails into Sal's stomach. Sal whaled and Alison rolled her eyes, she'd been avoiding anything vital, it can't hurt that much. "We were having lunch, I was honest, I opened up to her. Now she won't even look at me." Sal tried to groan something out but Alison couldn't hear it over the pistoning of the gun. Chest, shoulder, chest, chest, stomach, her aim precise as she took out her frustration. "I spent every day thinking of her for 5 months. She was in my dreams, laughing, smiling, and now…" Alison zipped her lips for emphasis, "Nothing. It's just quiet."

Alison wielded the nail gun like a pro, driving nails into Sal's body again and again, each shot landing in increasingly sensitive areas. His pained grunts filled the air, his suffering bringing her satisfaction. The stifling silence she'd been stuck in for the past 48 hours was shattered, replaced with Sal's agony and her now very loud thoughts. She leaned in close, "How long do you think it'll take for your wife to get over you? A few months? A year? What should I expect?" Sal's eyes widened with disbelief, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"What?" His voice was low and scared.

"After I kill Paige. What should I expect?"

Sal started to slip away but Alison wasn't done with him yet. She shot a nail into his armpit and that woke him right up. "Who's Pai-" He barely managed the question.

Right, she'd left that part out, "She's my fiancée's…fiancée…or wife, it's unclear, a grey area legally speaking. I'm sure you can appreciate that seeing as you're running Hardy's out of business with whatever ruse you've got going here."

"Alf…sent you?" Sal regained a bit of lucidity, "That's what this is about?"

"No!" Alison lost it, "This is about Emily! Have you not been listening to anything I've said?" Alison held up the nail gun, "Are your ears working? Maybe I should check." With the Nail gun pressed firmly against Sal's ear Alison pulled the trigger. "Fuck," Alison cursed. "The saw…" She remembered.

… …

Never one to waste an opportunity, Alison was in the middle of stuffing the money from Sal's safe into garbage bags when Noel called. "I was thinking about giving you a break from cooking tonight. What do you think about pizza again? I know Emily didn't go for it the first night, but I have to try something, anything," The line went quiet while she twisted and tied off the bag. "Hardy kept a piece of the license plate. I have to go get it, it shouldn't take-" The sound was muffled, but Alison swore she could hear distant crying. "Noel? What's wrong with Emily?" Alison never had to worry about someone before, and the anxiety spike that came with it was unwelcome. "Answer me, Noel!"

More silence. Alison tossed the last bag onto the trolley she'd dragged into the office and steered it behind her on her way back to the car. Finally, Noel's voice came through, strained and out of breath. "I don't know what's wrong. I can't get close enough to her."

"What do you mean you can't get close? There's two of you and one of her," Alison slammed the trunk closed and rounded the car. She should have never left. This shit with Hardy could have waited. Footsteps and loud noise came through the phone, Alison couldn't make out anything clearly. "What is going on over there?" she shouted into the phone.

"She has a gun," Noel shouted back. "Every time I get close, she starts waving it around like a psycho."

Alison gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. A thousand scenarios flooded her mind at once, each one more terrifying than the last. Emily killing Noel, Noel killing Emily, police storming the house and killing them both, Emily hurting herself, or worse. If she had any chance of fixing this, she had to know what she was walking into. She took a deep breath and put the car in drive, "Start from the beginning."