Author's Note: Buckle up, we have some new TWs. Trigger Warning for attempted SA, Drug overdose, Heart attacks. I wasn't planning on revisiting Emily's POV so soon but I felt this was a good point to do it. I hope you all enjoyed your weekend and I look forward to reading the reviews.
"Did you get it?" Emily pushed off the bed. She rushed to meet Ben near the dresser, one of the only pieces of furniture left in the room since her destruction of it days ago.
Ben smoothly slipped a small bag of white powder from his pocket and dangled it between two of his fingers with all the ease and swagger of a college senior pulling up to a freshman gathering with party favors. "Yeah, but look we've got to be quick. He just went out for a smoke," Ben dangled the bag over her head with an easy smile.
"Give it to me," Emily grabbed it, opening it one handed and dumping its contents onto the empty dresser top.
Ben slid up behind her, his hand resting on her hip. The weight of his fingers was easy to ignore as she focused on what was in front of her. She didn't expect this to happen so soon, she thought for sure it would be another day before Muscle for Brains was able to score for her. She wasn't going to blow it now because he was a little touchy. She could ignore it.
Emily quickly chopped out even, or even enough, lines from the powder as her hand shook. This was the longest she'd been without and every hour that passed felt like she was being dropped deeper and deeper into a dark cold well. Her senses waned, her thoughts scattered, there was no way she could get through this, let alone out of it without a pick me up.
She tried turning to Ben but he was too close for her to move much. It didn't matter she felt him dip into his pocket again and retrieve a crisp $10 bill. Emily took it, rolled it, and used it to inhale her first line. "Fuck," She exhaled, brushing off the way Ben loomed behind her. Even if she did try to shove him back it wouldn't work. He was heavy.
Ben's hands roamed her sides and Emily shoved down the feelings of patheticness that bubbled up. She dropped her head and did another line as Ben's low laughter filled her ears.
"Ali would kill me if she caught us. Hell, she'd probably kill me just because you're talking to me," Ben laughed again, and there was movement behind Emily that she couldn't place. "Why me by the way? Noel usually gets all the action." Ben asked, his movements becoming clear as one hand continued to rub at her side and the other seemingly rubbed and squeezed over his jeans.
No. no, no. Absolutely fucking not.
Emily snorted another line both because she needed to and because she used the motion to curve her body as closely as she could to the dresser. It put meer inches of space between her back and Ben's front, it was nothing, but still something. "You took a bullet for me," She spoke softly, hoping she could endear herself to the goon and slip out of his reach.
"It was just a gr-" Graze, Ben had started to say but instead puffed up his chest and took a step back. "Yeah, I did," He said with pride, taking a break from stroking himself over his denim to revel in his courageous act. Emily bit her lip to keep from rolling her eyes. Men. At least there was breathing room between them. She wasn't sure how many minutes had passed but a smoke break couldn't be much longer. She dipped her head to the dresser top again and inhaled the next line. She'd finish up quick and Prison Chef would surely be back by then. "Not like Alison gave a fuck if I bled out or not. She was more worried about me getting my blood on you." Something close to anger flashed across Ben's features and his hands found the sides of her body again, rougher this time.
Emily was starting to panic but she couldn't let it show. She turned her face down to the dresser doing another line and avoiding Ben's stare. Her body shivered in response and she hoped, no, prayed that Ben didn't misread it as a sign. "She's been gone for a while, right? Do you know where she went?" Had Alison gotten tired of being rejected and decided to leave her with them? Emily couldn't remember if or when Alison said she'd be back.
"Nah, but I think she was getting a little stir crazy," Ben shrugged his answer, more focused on digging his fingers into her sides. "Bend over a bit," He wet his lips.
Emily ignored the request and pretended she didn't hear Ben. She also pretended not to see him leering at her body. "You think she'll be back soon?" This was stupid. So fucking stupid but she just couldn't help herself and now the only person who could probably help her had left.
"I hope not," Ben laughed huskily. "C'mon bend over, I want to see something," On some other girl, in some other place, and hopefully with enthusiastic consent, Emily could see how Ben would be… not repulsive. But the bile threatening to come up her throat was proof these were not those circumstances and would never be. Her heart pounded hard and unusually, but it was a sensation she couldn't focus on with everything else happening to her.
"I thought you said we had to be quick," Emily tried in a last ditch effort to stall, trying and failing once again to move out of Ben's grasp. This time he didn't laugh it off and the fleeting anger she'd seen before settled onto his face and he whipped her around toward him.
"We will be," Ben shoved his forearm against her throat, pinning her to the dresser. "But I did something for you and now it's your turn to do something for me."
Emily had to be smart, she had to be. She forced herself to think even though it felt like her brain was splitting. Hitting Ben would make things exponentially worse, between her and him he had the strength and there was no telling what would happen if the commotion drew the attention of Alison's right hand. "Ok…ok" Emily struggled to respond with the pressure on her throat. "Can we um… move to the bed?"
Ben stared at her hard before simultaneously lifting his arm from her windpipe and grinning in a way she was sure he thought was charming, "Yeah sure."
The next few minutes happened so fast Emily wouldn't have been able to process it even in a sober state. Ben followed her to the bed, standing near the edge as she sat down. His focus solely on undoing his belt, he didn't notice Emily's hand disappear under the pillow. She waited for him to lean in, her nerves and the drugs making it hard to time perfectly but she did it. Emily brought the piece of glass she'd stashed away to Ben's neck, pushing into the muscle as quickly and deeply as she could. It wasn't like the movies, there was no spray of blood and she'd jumped out of the way of his falling body before he hit the bed. The thudding sound when he went down was loud enough to be heard outside and she was thrust into a panic response again when a voice called from downstairs.
"Yo Ben what was that?" Heavy footsteps accompanied the yelling. "Ben?" The footsteps were getting closer, coming up the stairs.
"Emily," Alison's voice called to her gently. "Emily, you're having another bad dream." Everything started to fall away, Ben's body, the room, the footsteps bounding up the stairs. "Can you open your eyes for me please," Alison coaxed.
Emily followed the instruction and cracked her eyes open to see a blurry Alison staring back at her. It was jarring being pulled out of that moment so abruptly and her pulse thrummed. It wasn't a dream, it was real, she killed someone. Her eyes scanned the room taking in the two figures nearby and she launched herself off the couch, grabbing the first item she could from the table in case she needed to defend herself. A mug. An empty fucking mug was all she could grab.
"Put it down," The older of the two brothers advanced toward her but Alison stopped him with a raise of her hand. He stood in place, his glare no less intense.
"Back up," Emily spoke, and when he didn't move an inch she turned her head toward Alison, "Tell him to back up."
With a quick hand signal Alison had him walking backward to his original place near the sliding doors. Bits of everything caught up to Emily all at once, the flake was synthetic, Ben was dead, Alison was back, they'd argued… and talked, there were pancakes and a handsy doctor. Things that didn't hurt before were hurting now and her body ached. Emily didn't know what from, the come down, Ben's grip, or her tussle with Alison in the kitchen. Not that it mattered, but it would've been nice to know. She still felt so out of it.
Emily's sprained hand found her throat, one of the many places on her body that was suddenly sore. She swallowed… ouch. She must have winced or something because Alison was calling her name again. "Come sit with me," Alison's voice was warm but her tone steely and it cut through all the noise in Emily's head. Emily took the few steps back to the couch sitting down on the opposite end and leaving a good distance between her and Alison which the blonde diminished as soon as Emily pulled her feet up to her chest. Alison was in her space, her gaze heavy as it roamed over her. "You can hold onto the mug, I've been hit with worse," Alison said lightly, her fingers traced Emily's throat and then moved downward toward a patch of skin at her hip. "These bruises weren't there when Wren checked you out. Why didn't you say anything if you were hurting?"
Whatever Ben had given her caused a rapid descent once it took effect, her mind jumped around, her moods swung wildly, and there were more pressing concerns at the time than where she'd been handled roughly. She had never been so scared, she thought she was overdosing or having a mental break. More images flittered into Emily's mind from the past several hours, overwhelming her.
"Did Ben do this?" Alison asked. She was working hard to keep her face neutral but her jaw was working overtime, giving away her anger.
"Damn sure wasn't me," Noel sniffed.
There was a flicker of something truly dark in Alison's eyes before she turned her body to the two men who stood a few feet behind her. Her eyes settled on both of them for a moment causing them to shift uncomfortably where they stood before she spoke. "The first one of you that opens his mouth again without being spoken to, gets rolled up in a fucking rug." Her voice dipped with the sincerity of the threat. "Am I clear?"
"Yes, boss" the answer came in unison.
Emily didn't realize she was crying until Alison turned her attention back to her and reached out to wipe the tears from her face. "I meant what I said last night. I don't give a shit about Ben and we don't have to talk about him until you want to… if you want to. Should I have Wren come back?"
"So he can find any excuse to touch you again while talking about me like I'm gum on his shoe? No, thanks," The words should have come out as a casual dismissal of the idea but they didn't. They were harsh and pointed. Alison acknowledged it with a raised brow but didn't call Emily out on it, and for that, Emily sighed in relief.
"You need to get some real sleep,"
There was nothing Emily wanted more, if not sleep then at least some rest that wasn't interrupted by her waking up every hour in a terror or freeze state. She didn't know what would be there when she closed her eyes again, Paige arguing with her or… Ben. "I can't… he's there and Paige is there and she's so mad…" Emily was aware she was making no sense which only made the tears increase as she tried to articulate what was happening in her head, "It's too much."
Somehow the few words she did say looked like they registered with Alison and the blonde stretched out her body, leaving a space between herself and the couch. Emily looked between the empty spot and Alison. She leaned forward a little to inspect, it wasn't some kind of trap as far she could tell and Alison made no motion to grab her. Emily let her body fall into the space, sandwiched between the couch and Alison. She was surrounded on both sides but the pressure wasn't triggering.
"Can I take that?" Alison glanced down at the mug still in Emily's hands.
Alison only took it when Emily nodded that it was ok, and then she reached behind herself to place it back on the coffee table. When her arm came back she let it lay heavily across Emily's torso, "Nothing can get to you without going through me first."
Emily nodded, mindful that she was skirting a dangerous line but Alison understood…and Emily didn't have the strength to fight being understood. She fell asleep to the blonde whispering in her ear that she was safe.
… …
A few things pulled Emily to the surface. The first was music, it wasn't loud but it was full of bass that seemed to travel through the walls. She'd groaned and tried to nudge Alison to make it stop but her arm found air. Then she felt it, or didn't feel it, her body was no longer pressed snuggly against the couch. She cracked her eyes slowly letting them adjust to the indoor lighting. The lack of natural lighting pouring into the house told her it had been more than a few hours. As slowly as she sat up it didn't stop her head from spinning. Emily's eyes swept the room, the quick glance convinced her she was alone.
"You're up, about time," A voice came from the kitchen before panic or relief could set in.
Emily looked toward the kitchen again and this time her eyes caught sight of a strong jaw and bushy eyebrows. Dipshit #2, her lips pressed into a tight line. He strolled over holding a pill bottle and water high in his hands. He shook the bottle, a sound that grated Emily so bad her nostrils flared. It felt like she was extra sensitive to every noise, light, and smell in the room. She opened her hand, turning her palm upwards.
"Hungry? You were out for a while," Noel dropped two pills into Emily's hand. She thumbed them around her palm, noting the change from Tylenol to Advil. "Wren says Ibuprofen would be more effective. Take it up with Ali if you have a problem, I'm just supposed to make sure you take them." Emily sighed, biting her tongue. She threw the pills back and snatched the bottled water out of Noel's hands. It didn't make a damn difference, Tylenol, Advil, none of it was cutting it, not even close.
"Where's your boss?"
"She's busy."
There was another heavy bass section of whatever song was playing and though the music hadn't increased in volume at all, the walls shook and Emily could feel the vibration in her bones. She shut her eyes and waited for it to pass. All the while she could feel Noel staring, probably wondering how she'd got so screwed up. A laugh came shortly after, or at least it sounded like a laugh, it sounded so far and Emily doubted she would have noticed it had her body not been intent on making her aware of every stimuli in the house.
"What was that?" Emily opened her eyes and looked around to find the source.
Noel shrugged, "Like I said, she's busy."
Head still spinning and not in the mood to continue to deal with Dipshit #2, Emily stood up. She gave herself a minute to test her legs. When she was satisfied she wouldn't fall over she took a few steps trying to follow the direction of the music. Emily was betting that if she found the music and laughter, she'd find her captor.
She was out of the living room and in the hall when Noel rushed in front of her. "Whoa there," He blocked her path. When she tried to go around him, Noel extended his arm, blocking her off completely. "Where do you think you're going?"
Emily rocked back on her feet. This was bullshit and there was no way she could force herself past him. To avoid the standoff she thought she'd do them both a favor, "You're going to take me to your boss right now, or whenever she comes back I'm telling her you took the longest smoke break in history and that's why your friend is dead." Emily tried to stand tall at her full height, despite it making her feel nauseous.
"I didn't know what Ben was doing," Noel's fists clenched at his sides but he didn't seem angry at least not at her.
Emily had no desire to decipher his emotions, "You think she'll care?"
Noel looked like he was weighing his options, then his shoulders dropped, and he huffed grumpily. He didn't say anything else as he led Emily through the house to a door she hadn't seen before, granted she hadn't been exploring. It was suspicious when Noel opened the door quietly instead of just throwing it open, even more so when he stayed at the top of the landing as Emily went past him and down the steps. She glanced back when she was halfway down to see Noel still hadn't moved and all she could see was his back.
Emily decided not to say anything as she descended the stairs and kept her steps light. When the solid banister ended she was able to peer around. The basement was furnished but like every other part of the house, it looked like it hadn't been used in years. There was a sectional, a large TV, and a pool table in the center which is where Emily's eyes found Alison. The blonde was standing near the table, pool cue in her hand, next to a straggly man with long greasy hair. Emily had never seen him before but she'd seen people that looked just like him. Mid twenties, hugely oversized hoodie to cover a backpack or crossbody pouch, tight jeans, and random tattoos creeping up the sides of his neck and face that looked like a toddler had drawn them. He was a dealer.
"I still can't believe you're here. When my guys said they found you on the side of the road, I said no fucking way." Alison laughed, her voice velvety.
The man chuckled humbly, leaning over the table to rack up the balls, "Your guy's got some cosmic timing. My ride never breaks down like that." He circled the table, grabbing his own cue and returning to line up his first sho.
Blue eyes tracked him like prey and Emily sat on the steps hidden from view to watch Alison watch him. "Yeah… crazy how that happens," Whoever the guy was, he didn't notice the dangerous lilt in Alison's voice or the way her grip on the cue tightened. He sank a ball on his first turn and by the time he straightened his back, any signs of Alison's displeasure were gone. "The Ethanator! Jersey Legend," Alison mimicked the voice of an announcer.
"In the flesh," He laughed again, widening his stance and shrugging his shoulders. His hubris didn't allow him to see what Emily could. Alison was laying it on thick. Emily hadn't known her long but she couldn't imagine her captor being this impressed with anyone or anything, ever.
"I have a shop that'll take care of you, free of charge. Don't worry about it," Alison offered and it was accepted by the straggly man with a confident, 'appreciate it'. The two took turns sinking balls before Alison spoke again. "But while you're here, how do you feel about talking business?"
It was the first time the Ethanator looked at all uneasy, "I don't know… I'm a proud small business owner. I'm not looking to get swallowed up by the DiLaurentis." He ran his hands through his hair.
"Not the DiLaurentis, just me, and I'm not looking to take over your business. Consider it a consultation, I need to know about synths, and you're my… industry expert." Alison took her turn and leaned against the pool table, propping one of her legs up. "You can name your price, I just need information."
Ethan nodded slowly, still weary but Emily could tell the promise of money enticed him. "$5,000?" He threw out a number.
Alison nodded accepting the deal, "Tell me about your synthetics."
"They're not mine really," Ethan began, "It's the usual shit you can pick up. It's cheaper than a brick of pure white and If you get creative you can make it stretch way longer. The junkies here don't care what you serve them, long as you're serving them and they ain't going to the city for better product."
Emily cringed at the word junkie.
"What do you mean by get creative?" Alison asked. It was the first question that had popped into Emily's mind too.
Ethan shifted his weight from foot to foot and lowered his voice, "The shit still has to pack a punch. Everyone has their own recipe…I use Fent. The high is strong but it's over quick and the fiends come running back. I'm making double what I was last year."
Fentanyl. Hearing it sent a shiver down Emily's spine. No wonder she was still struggling to shake the effects. Fucking Fentanyl. The likelihood that she could have overdosed or been stuck in a psychotic break for the rest of her life seemed all the more possible. If the look on Alison's face was any indication, she was going through the same realization.
The pretense of the game had dropped, Ethan had set his cue down and was animatedly explaining his business model to Alison. He was a real entrepreneur. Emily wrapped her arms around her torso and stifled the groan at the sharp and sudden pain in her stomach. Alison looked toward the steps and Emily did her best to stay silent and still. She wasn't seen.
"Fent is a strong drug to play around with. How do you know your recipe isn't killing people?" Alison surprised Ethan with the question, his eyes darted everywhere but her. "Bodies bring cops," Alison added.
Ethan relaxed assuming he wasn't being judged and gave a dry chuckle, "Practice. If I don't see a customer in a while I know they're dead."
Emily's not sure what flips the switch for Alison, Ethan's carelessness, or if she just can't stand to be in his presence any longer. The friendliness and indifference melt from her face and is replaced by something else entirely.
"You have any on you right now?"
Ethan unzipped his hoodie revealing a sling style bag across his chest, "Was on my way to a deal when my car broke down."
With one hand, Alison ripped the bag from Ethan's chest, her other hand swiftly positioning the pool cue in front of her to keep him at bay. Stupidly, Ethan attempted to get it back and swung an arm out to snatch the bag but the cue was firmly pressed against his chest. Alison pushed the cue hard into him, sending Ethan stumbling back a few steps. "Try that again and I break your hand."
Emily was shocked but not surprised when Ethan tried again, reaching out to grab the sling bag. Alison dropped it onto the table and swung the pool cue down onto Ethan's hand with a sharp crack. His scream echoed through the room, causing Emily to shut her eyes tightly. When she reopened them, Ethan was clutching his injured hand to his chest, groaning in pain.
"Did you think I was joking?" Alison turned back to the bag and emptied its contents onto the table. Her movements were smooth and deliberate, she was oddly calm despite Ethan's wailing beside her. Like this was just another day. Alison stopped at the sound of shuffling behind her. Emily could hear it too but she couldn't see who it was.
"Stay out of it," Alison spun around with the pool cue tucked under her arm, pointed at someone who Emily assumed was Dipshit #1. "This is between me and the Ethanator," Lowering the cue, Alison refocused and emptied almost a dozen small bags of flake onto the pool table's wool surface.
A voice in the back of Emily's head told her a smooth surface would be better but she shook it off. Ethan had started to back away and was staring at his hand in disbelief, his breathing labored. "Get over here," Alison demanded and Ethan turned his back to run.
It didn't work, Alison is deceptively strong. No one would ever guess it by looking at her and Emily wondered if that was purposeful. Emily watched on from where she sat, captivated by the way Alison wielded her weapon of choice. Every muscle in the blonde's body worked as she brought the cue across Ethan's back. For equal measure, she swung it back around and struck him across the chest. Emily's jaw dropped. There was no screaming that time, Ethan's body seized and he gargled out sounds of pain.
Alison looked thoroughly annoyed when she had to grab him by his hoodie to keep him from hitting the floor, "Come on, we're not done yet." She dragged him to the table, his upper body sprawling across it. "This is your product so you shouldn't have any problem using it. I even made the lines for you, go ahead, get started." Ethan's face was wet and he made a broken noise looking between Alison and the lines. Emily could hear him inhale the first ones and Alison called it out, "That's one, keep going."
Ethan did as he was told, his body familiar with the consequences if he didn't. Emily had heard bits and pieces about Alison relayed from Paige and until now Emily hadn't seen much of what Paige described. Even when Alison shot an officer in the face the moment was over before it began. This was different, Alison was relishing in this, she was enjoying it.
"That's five," Alison picked Ethan's head up from the table. "Look at you, the Ethanator! Still standing," She showered him in mock praise. Emily swallowed and got an uncomfortable reminder of the pain in her throat. Ethan was only still standing because Alison wanted him to, because she wanted to drag this out. She wanted to push him to his limit and then watch him suffer. Emily couldn't look away.
"W-why… I told you," Ethan coughed up the words. "Told you what you wanted."
Alison's hand tightened in Ethan's hair and he hissed, "Because your shitty drugs fell into the hands of someone I care about and she almost died." Alison snapped her fingers for emphasis, "Gone, extinct, I would have lost her. Do you know what that feels like?" Alison didn't wait for an answer, she covered Ethan's mouth and shoved his face into what was left of his product.
Ethan bucked and twisted hard but couldn't get free. When Alison lifted his face from the table Emily was shocked he was still alive. He was gasping and coughing, his pupils blown. His lungs, throat, nose, everything must have burned. "Yeah, it's a bit like that. Just the thought of losing her made my insides hurt. Zero out of ten, not a fan." Emily hardly blinked as Alison covered his mouth again, drowning out the begging and pleading before she held his face to the powder again. It was a few seconds or minutes, Emily had no idea, before Alison brought him up for air, this time she dropped his body to the floor.
Alison squatted beside him as Ethan laid on his back convulsing, "Either you're going to OD or your heart will explode. Call me curious, I want to see which happens first." It was like something had been unlocked, or maybe it had been there the whole time. Emily struggled to reconcile the Alison in front of her with the one who'd lulled her to sleep. He couldn't communicate anymore but Emily could recognize the way he stared up at her, he was terrified. "Give Ben my regards," Alison wiped her hands on Ethan's hoodie. His face contorted but there were none of the telltale signs of overdose. Heart attack it was.
Alison sat back on the floor with a sigh. She didn't look content and Emily wanted to understand why, but not knowing how much time she had and not wanting to get caught, she stood quickly and padded back up the steps. She pushed past Noel, who trailed her back to the living room. As Emily reached the couch she caught the sound of footsteps echoing their path. It was either Eric or Alison and they were close enough to overhear if Emily said anything. Instead of speaking, she shot Noel a hard, daring look. He met her gaze and nodded.
When Alison turned the corner, she didn't say anything right away. Her gaze jumped curiously between Emily and Noel before she headed toward the kitchen. "You're awake," Alison called over her shoulder. Emily heard the sound of the faucet being turned on and the water running. From the motions, it looked like Alison was washing her hands.
Words seemed to be a struggle. Emily didn't know what to say or if she wanted to say anything about what she'd seen. Alison dried her hands and sauntered back to the couch, her demeanor not unusual. Not like she'd just forced drugs into a man until he went into cardiac arrest. Emily mumbled some kind of affirmative as Alison sat down.
Alison stared at her, clearly trying to discern what seemed off. "Did I do something wrong?" Alison questioned.
The vulnerability in Alison's voice would have irked Emily yesterday, or the day before, or even a few hours ago. Emily had been convinced her captor was faking whatever feelings she claimed to have, but Emily had seen behind the curtain now, and that just wasn't true. Alison was insane, certifiably so, a danger to the general public even without a gun, but she was other things too.
It was an idea too big for Emily to tackle on an empty stomach with waves of pain shooting through her body and worse to come. Alison had to be a monster, anything else was unacceptable and too difficult to wrap her head around. If Alison wasn't the devil Paige said she was, what was she?