A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome to my first PLL fanfic. I'm beyond excited to share this story with all of you, especially since I've always been a huge fan of PLL and the Emison relationship. There's something about the dynamic between Emily and Alison that's so compelling—their love, the drama, the tension—it all makes for an incredible story. I've wanted to explore a darker, more emotional side of their relationship, and this plot came to mind. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!
The Story starts in the middle of Season 7 of the PLL Series with a (view changes) and a different direction of course.
Notice: I don't own PLL or the Characters of PLL
Thanks for giving it a chance, and please feel free to leave any feedback or thoughts. I'd love to know what you think as the story unfolds.
The return to Rosewood was never meant to be easy. Five years after the Liars moved on with their lives, they were pulled back into the web of secrets and lies they had tried to escape. The release of Charlotte DiLaurentis from the psychiatric hospital marked the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with unresolved pain and the specter of their shared trauma in the Dollhouse.
Charlotte's freedom was short-lived. Within hours of her release, she was found dead, her body thrown from the bell tower at the church. For Emily, Spencer, Hanna, Aria, and Alison, Charlotte's death reopened old wounds. They had all suffered under Charlotte's manipulation, especially Emily, whose scars from the Dollhouse never fully healed.
As the investigation into Charlotte's murder began, tensions between the friends grew, with suspicions swirling asto who could have killed her. Emily returned to Rosewood with her own demons—grieving the loss of her father and struggling with her emotional and physical health. She never fully confronted the anger she harbored for Charlotte, who had tormented them all, but that rage simmered just beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, Alison had grown closer to Emily, their bond deepening as they shared the weight of their past and their uncertain future. Their relationship evolved into something more than friendship, leading to the revelation that Alison was pregnant—carrying Emily's child, the result of a twisted plan engineered by Archer Dunhill, Alison's ex-husband, who had manipulated her for her inheritance. This pregnancy was both a source of joy and fear for Alison, who was haunted by the looming threat of Charlotte's murder investigation.
Lieutenant Tanner, relentless in her pursuit of justice, fixated on Alison as a suspect, unwilling to let the past die. With each passing day, it seemed more likely that Tanner would arrest Alison, even without solid proof, leaving Alison terrified that she could end up behind bars for a crime she didn't commit. This fear weighed heavily on Emily as well, who had already experienced more loss than she could bear.
While Tanner built her case, the Liars struggled to piece together what really happened the night Charlotte died. Emily's growing rage and unresolved trauma from the Dollhouse fueled a darkness inside her that she hadn't fully reckoned with. She had always been the protector, the one who held her friends together, but now she found herself slipping into a place where anger threatened to consume her.
As their relationship deepened, Emily and Alison clung to each other for solace, trying to shield themselves from the storm gathering around them. But the weight of their shared past—and the uncertainty of what the future held— pressed down on both of them. For Alison, it was the fear of being arrested and taken away from the baby growing inside her. For Emily, it was the fear of losing Alison and their child, compounded by the unresolved rage toward Charlotte and the darkness she had kept buried for so long.
Now, on the eve of what feels like an inevitable confrontation with Tanner and the authorities, Emily and Alison find themselves in a fragile moment of peace. But even in the quiet of their home, the weight of what's coming is undeniable. Both of them know that this could be their last moment of normalcy before everything falls apart.
The room was dimly lit, the soft flicker of the TV casting faint shadows across the walls. The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft hum of the television and the occasional rustle of the blankets. Alison lay nestled on the couch, her head resting gently in Emily's lap, her hand tracing slow, thoughtful circles over her growing belly. Her mind was consumed with worry—worry about the future, about their baby, about everything that seemed to be crumbling around them.
She could feel the subtle movements inside her, a tiny life growing that she hadn't fully wrapped her mind around yet. Emily's child. Their child. The thought should have filled her with warmth, but instead, it was fear that clung to her heart. Fear of what might happen, fear of what was lurking just beyond their control.
"I can't stop thinking about it," Alison whispered, her voice breaking the fragile silence between them. "What if they arrest me for Charlotte's murder? I can't raise our baby from behind bars, Emily. I can't…"
Her voice was small, trembling with the weight of her fears. Emily's hand, which had been gently combing through Alison's hair, stilled for a moment, her fingers pausing mid-motion. Alison's words hung heavy in the air, pressing down on both of them.
Emily's face tightened as her own thoughts spiraled into darker places. The shadow of Charlotte DiLaurentis' death had stretched over their lives like a suffocating blanket, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't shake it. Tanner's investigation had been relentless, digging into every corner of their past, unearthing old wounds that had barely begun to heal.
But there was something else that weighed on Emily—something deeper, darker. A rage that simmered beneath the surface. It was a rage born from the torture Charlotte had inflicted on them in the Dollhouse, a chapter of their lives that had never truly closed. Emily had thought she had moved past it, that time had dulled the pain, but every time Charlotte's name was mentioned, it was like reopening a wound that had never really healed.
"They won't arrest you, Ali," Emily said, her voice firmer than she intended, her words clipped with intensity. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Alison shifted slightly in Emily's lap, her hand still resting protectively over her stomach. She turned to look up at Emily, her eyes wide with fear, her brows furrowed with worry. "But Tanner doesn't care about what's true, only what fits her theory," she murmured, her voice thick with anxiety. "I know she thinks I had something to do with Charlotte's death. What if…what if she gets me sent away?"
Emily's jaw clenched tightly. The words Alison had spoken felt like a dark cloud hanging over them, each syllable sinking deeper into her chest. She had replayed the events of that night over and over in her mind—Charlotte's release, the cold, hollow feeling of knowing she was free. And then the news of her death. Emily's anger had been quick to surface. It was an anger that had never truly gone away, although she had convinced herself it had.
"I won't let that happen," Emily said, her voice colder and more distant than she meant for it to be. The weight of the words was heavier than she intended, a reflection of the storm brewing inside her. But Alison, lost in her own worries, didn't seem to notice.
Alison's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling as she sat up slightly, her hand reaching out to grab Emily's. "I can't do this alone, Em," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't want to lose you. I don't want to raise this baby without you."
Emily's heart ached at the desperation in Alison's voice, but there was a hardness creeping into her chest, an emotion she couldn't quite place. She wanted to reassure Alison, to tell her that everything would be okay, but the weight of her own thoughts made it hard to breathe.
"You won't," Emily said softly, her voice more measured this time, though her mind was anything but calm. "We'll get through this. Together."
She wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe that they could fight through this, that they could weather whatever storm was coming. But there was a darkness inside Emily that she couldn't ignore, a voice in the back of her mind whispering that nothing was as simple as they wanted it to be.
Alison sighed heavily, her body sinking deeper into Emily's lap as if she was trying to melt into her. She closed her eyes, resting her head against Emily's thigh, her fingers still absently tracing circles over her belly. For a brief moment, it was like the weight of their situation lifted, and they were just two people sitting together, cocooned in their own world.
Emily gently resumed running her fingers through Alison's hair, the repetitive motion soothing her. She wanted to ease Alison's worries, to be the strong one, but her own fears were louder than ever. Tanner's investigation, the threat of arrest—it was all too much. And then there was the anger, the rage she had tried so hard to suppress, bubbling beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to explode.
Alison shifted slightly, turning her face up to look at Emily. There was something in her eyes, something that made Emily's chest tighten. It was the same desperation Emily felt inside herself, a need to escape the crushing weight of everything that was happening. They both needed a way out, even if it was just for a few hours.
The blonde reached up, her hand resting on Emily's cheek, her fingers gentle against her skin. "I just want to feel safe again," she whispered, her voice raw with vulnerability. "I need to know we're going to be okay."
Emily swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. She wanted to give Alison the answers she needed, but the truth was, she didn't have them. She didn't know what was going to happen. She didn't know if they would be okay. But in this moment, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the person in front of her—the woman she loved, the mother of her child.
"You are safe," Emily whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Alison's forehead. "I won't let anything happen to you or the baby."
Alison's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her lips parting as she leaned into Emily's touch. There was a tenderness in the way she looked at Emily, a kind of vulnerability she rarely let anyone see. But here, in this room, in this moment, it was just them. No investigations, no accusations, no threats of what was to come.
Alison's fingers curled around Emily's, and she sat up slightly, her gaze never leaving Emily's. There was a spark of something desperate in her eyes, a need to forget, to lose herself in the one person she trusted more than anyone else.
"Come with me," Alison whispered, her voice trembling with raw emotion.
Emily's heart clenched, her chest tightening as she looked into Alison's eyes—eyes that were filled with need, desperation, and love. She knew what Alison was asking, what she was offering, and Emily needed it too. The unspoken fear hung between them, the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring. They both felt it.
Without a word, Alison stood, taking Emily's hand and pulling her up from the couch. Emily followed, their fingers intertwined, as Alison led her toward the bedroom. The house was silent, but the air between them crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore. It was the kind of tension that came from love, fear, and the knowledge that something was coming—something neither of them could stop.
As soon as they reached the bedroom, the door barely clicked shut before Emily turned to Alison, cupping her face in her hands. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Alison's in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, filled with a passion neither of them could hold back. It was as if they were trying to pour everything—every unspoken word, every fear, every ounce of love—into that kiss.
Alison gasped against Emily's lips, her hands sliding up to grip Emily's waist, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together, the warmth of Alison's skin sending shivers down Emily's spine. There was an urgency now, a need to be closer, to lose themselves in each other, to forget everything outside this room.
Emily's hands moved with purpose, sliding over the curve of Alison's hips, fingers tracing the familiar lines of her body. She needed to memorize every inch of her, to feel the way Alison's body responded to her touch. The world outside didn't matter—not tonight. They only had each other.
Alison moaned softly into the kiss, her fingers threading through Emily's dark hair as she pulled her even closer. There was no hesitation, no distance between them. Their movements were desperate, almost frantic, as if they were trying to hold onto this moment for as long as they could, as if they both knew time was slipping through their fingers.
Emily's lips trailed down Alison's neck, each kiss sending sparks of electricity through both of them. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of Alison's chest, could hear the breathless way her name slipped from Alison's lips as she whispered it in the dark. It sent a wave of warmth through Emily, a reminder that despite everything, despite all the pain and fear, they were still here. Still together.
"Emily," Alison breathed, her voice full of longing, her hands roaming over Emily's back, taking a view steps behind and pulling Emily down onto the bed with her. There was no space between them now, their bodies tangled together in a way that felt both urgent and familiar, like they were the only two people left in the world.
Emily's hand slid beneath Alison's shirt, feeling the heat of her skin, the soft curve of her waist. She kissed Alison again, harder this time, their lips crashing together with an intensity that mirrored the storm raging inside Emily. Alison responded in kind, her nails raking gently down Emily's back as if she couldn't get close enough, as if she were afraid Emily might slip away.
Each kiss, each touch, was an attempt to ground themselves in the present, to hold onto the love they shared, to remind each other that no matter what happened, this was real. Their love was real.
Time seemed to blur as their clothes were discarded, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound in the room apart from their labored breathing and the occasional whispers and moans. Emily's hands moved over Alison's bare skin, exploring every inch of her like she was trying to commit it to memory. She wanted to remember this—Alison's softness, the way her breath hitched when Emily touched her just right, the way her lips parted as she moaned into the quiet night.
Beneath the passion, beneath the love, there was something darker—a sense of dread that Emily couldn't shake. She had felt it growing all day, a gnawing fear in the pit of her stomach that something was coming. She didn't know what, but she felt it.
But tonight… tonight, she was with Alison.
They made love like they had done in the past before, but tonight was different. There was an urgency in their touches, a need to hold on just a little bit longer, to forget the storm that was brewing on the horizon. Emily's lips traced the line of Alison's collarbone, her breath hot against Alison's skin as she kissed her way down her body, her hands shaking with the intensity of the moment. Alison gasped softly, her fingers tightening in Emily's hair, pulling her closer.
"Don't stop," Alison whispered, her voice thick with desire and something deeper—something vulnerable. Emily could feel the trembling in her words, could hear the unspoken fear behind them. Alison was just as afraid as she was.
"I won't," Emily promised, her voice hoarse as she kissed her way back up to meet Alison's lips once more. "I'm here."
Their kisses grew more desperate, as if they were trying to hold onto each other, to push away the inevitable. Alison's hands roamed over Emily's body, her touch both tender and urgent, as if she were trying to memorize every curve, every scar, every part of her. Emily could feel Alison's heartbeat against her chest, their bodies pressed so close together it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
They were lost in each other, in the heat of the moment, in the love they had shared for so long. But Emily's mind couldn't help but drift, even as she kissed Alison, even as she touched her. The sense of foreboding lingered, a dark cloud over their heads. She didn't know what the next days would bring, but she knew it wasn't good.
Alison seemed to sense it too. As they lay tangled together in the aftermath, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing heavy, Alison turned her head to look at Emily. Her eyes were filled with something Emily couldn't quite place—fear, maybe. Or was it hope?
"What's wrong?" Alison asked softly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Emily's bare shoulder.
Emily swallowed hard, her throat tight. She didn't want to ruin this moment, didn't want to bring the weight of her fear crashing down on them.
"I just… I have a bad feeling," Emily admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She couldn't bring herself to say more. She didn't want to speak the fear into existence.
Alison's brow furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't say anything at first, just watched Emily for a long moment before nodding. "Whatever happens," she said softly, "we'll face it together."
Emily's heart ached at the tenderness in Alison's voice, and for a brief moment, the dread that had been weighing on her lifted. Alison was right. Whatever happened, whatever the world threw at them, they would face it together.
They had to.
Emily kissed Alison softly, her lips lingering against hers. "I love you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Alison smiled against her lips, her eyes closing as she leaned into the kiss. "I love you too."
They spent the rest of the night tangled together, their bodies seeking comfort and solace in one another. For a few precious hours, they weren't Emily and Alison caught in a web of lies, fear, and uncertainty. They were just two people who loved each other, desperately clinging to the only thing that made sense in a world that seemed to be falling apart.
But even as they drifted into an uneasy sleep, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that this night was their last moment of peace. Something was coming, and when it did, nothing would ever be the same.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Alison lay sleeping peacefully beside Emily, her face serene, her arm draped protectively over her stomach. For a moment, Emily allowed herself to forget the chaos swirling around them, watching Alison's chest rise and fall with each breath. She looked peaceful, unburdened by the weight of the world. For a second, it felt like everything was normal. Like it was just another morning in their lives—waking up next to each other, wrapped in warmth and comfort. But deep down, Emily knew that feeling was fleeting. It was the calm before the storm.
Then came the knock at the door.
The sound was jarring, slicing through the quiet morning air like a blade. Emily's heart stilled, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she sat up, her body stiff with tension. The knock came again, harder this time, more insistent. Alison stirred beside her, blinking awake in confusion. "Who…?"
Emily didn't respond immediately. Her eyes were fixed on the door as her mind raced, her body already moving, her instincts taking over. She slipped out of bed, pulling on her clothes as quickly as she could, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with her shirt.
Something felt wrong, but she didn't know what.
"Stay here," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible, but laced with a sense of urgency.
Alison sat up, pushing her hair away from her face, her eyes clouded with concern. "Emily, what's going on?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
Emily glanced back at her for a brief moment, her expression unreadable. "Just stay here, Ali."
There was no time for explanations. Without waiting for Alison to respond, Emily left the room, her heart thudding in her chest. Each step she took toward the front door felt heavier, her mind buzzing with uncertainty. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something felt off, like the world was shifting beneath her feet.
When she opened the door, her breath caught in her throat.
Lieutenant Tanner stood there, flanked by two officers, her expression hard and cold, her eyes boring into Emily with a sense of grim finality. Tanner had always made Emily uneasy, but today, there was something different in her posture, something darker.
"Emily Fields," Tanner began, her voice sharp and unforgiving, "you're under arrest for the murder of Charlotte DiLaurentis."
The words felt like a punch to the gut. Emily's entire body went cold, her stomach dropping as the reality of what was happening hit her. She didn't move, didn't resist, as the officers stepped forward, roughly grabbing her arms and pulling them behind her back. The click of the handcuffs echoed in her ears, the cold metal biting into her skin.
Alison's voice rang out from behind her, breaking through the fog in Emily's mind. "No!" Alison's cry was full of shock and disbelief. Emily turned her head just enough to see Alison rushing toward them, her face pale, her eyes wide and frantic. "This can't be happening! Emily didn't kill Charlotte!"
Tanner's face remained impassive, her eyes locked on Alison with cold detachment. "We have more than enough evidence, Mrs. DiLaurentis. She's our prime suspect."
Alison's eyes flashed with anger as she stepped between Emily and Tanner, her body shaking with rage and fear. "And are the 'evidences' you have as good as they were when I was taken under arrest for a murder I didn't commit?" she spat, her voice trembling with emotion.
Tanner's expression barely shifted, but there was a flicker of something—annoyance, maybe—behind her eyes. "This is different, Alison," she replied, her voice measured, calm, almost condescending. "The evidence against Emily is clear. She was at the center of it all. Her anger, her history with Charlotte—it all points to her."
Alison shook her head, her hands trembling as she gripped Emily's arm, as if holding onto her could somehow stop the inevitable. "This is a mistake," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Emily didn't do this. She couldn't have."
Tanner's gaze remained cold, unmoved by Alison's desperation. "You know as well as anyone that justice doesn't wait for the truth to come conveniently wrapped up in a bow, Alison. We've built a case, and Emily's actions speak for themselves."
Alison's tears began to stream down her cheeks, her voice becoming frantic. "Please," she whispered, her fingers tightening around Emily's arm, "you didn't do this, Emily. Tell them! Tell them you didn't do this!"
But Emily didn't say anything.
Her silence was heavy, almost suffocating. She stood there, distant, as if she were already gone, already lost. She could feel Alison's desperation, hear the pain in her voice, but it was as though it were happening in another world. Emily felt numb. She couldn't bring herself to respond, couldn't find the words to reassure Alison.
Because deep down, she didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Alison's sobs grew louder, her grip on Emily tightening as if she could somehow anchor her, keep her from being taken away. "Please, Emily! Don't let them do this. You didn't kill her. You couldn't have!" Her voice broke on the last word, her body trembling as she clung to Emily.
But Emily remained silent, her face blank, distant, her eyes shadowed by something dark, something lost.
Tanner's voice broke through the chaos, sharp and unforgiving. "It's time to go." She nodded to the officers, who stepped forward, pulling Emily away from Alison's grasp.
"No!" Alison screamed, her voice echoing through the quiet morning. She reached out for Emily, but it was too late. The officers had already pushed her toward the waiting cruiser, the cold metal of the handcuffs digging into her wrists as they guided her forward.
Alison's sobs echoed behind her as Emily was led toward the car. She could feel the weight of Alison's gaze on her back, the despair in her voice, but Emily didn't turn around. She couldn't. She was too far gone, too deep in her own thoughts, her own darkness.
The door of the police cruiser opened, and Emily was shoved inside. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, sealing her away from the world outside. She stared out the window, her breath fogging the glass as the familiar streets of Rosewood began to blur into nothing.
As the car pulled away, Emily leaned her head against the cool glass, her heart heavy with the weight of everything that had happened. She felt like a different person now—someone distant, lost in a dark place she didn't know how to escape from. She couldn't bring herself to fight, couldn't bring herself to deny it.
This was her life now.
As the cruiser sped through the streets, the last sound Emily heard was Alison's voice, faint and full of heartbreak, calling her name as the world fell away behind her.
After Emily was taken away, the door slammed shut, leaving Alison standing in the doorway, stunned, her breath catching in her throat. The sight of Emily in handcuffs, her face unreadable and distant, burned into her mind. She felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet, leaving her swaying, her body trembling with shock. For a moment, she didn't move. The world outside seemed to blur, the sound of the police car pulling away barely registering as her heart pounded in her chest. She was paralyzed, watching helplessly as the person she loved—the person she had thought she could protect—was taken from her.
Her fingers, which had been clutching the edge of the doorframe, began to shake violently. Slowly, Alison turned back toward the house, her movements mechanical as if every step took more effort than she could muster. She closed the door behind her, but it felt like it did nothing to shut out the chaos that had just unfolded.
Alison stumbled toward the living room, her mind a swirl of emotions—fear, anger, disbelief. Her eyes landed on the couch where she and Emily had been sitting just hours ago, wrapped in each other's presence, trying to convince themselves they could weather the storm together. Now, Emily was gone, taken away in a police car, accused of murder.
Her legs gave out beneath her as she collapsed onto the couch, her hands moving instinctively to her stomach. The child growing inside her—their child—was the one piece of hope she was desperately trying to hold onto. But how was she supposed to do this alone? How was she supposed to raise this baby with Emily locked away, accused of a crime she didn't commit?
Tears began to fall, hot and uncontrollable, streaming down her face as the weight of everything crashed down on her all at once. She buried her face in her hands, her body shaking with sobs that she had tried so hard to hold back. The fear she had kept inside for so long, the fear that this would happen, that she would lose Emily, was now a reality.
"Emily…" she whispered through her tears, her voice breaking. She had tried so hard to protect her, to protect them, but it hadn't been enough.
After what felt like hours, the sobs began to subside, leaving her breathless and exhausted. But the weight in her chest remained, the fear still clinging to her heart like a vice. She knew she couldn't fall apart. Not now. Not when Emily needed her to be strong. But it was so hard to think, to breathe, to understand how everything had spiraled so quickly.
Alison's mind was spinning, her body still trembling from shock. Emily had been taken away—arrested for Charlotte's murder. She had to do something, but her body felt heavy, paralyzed by the weight of it all.
Her hands shook as she reached for her phone, fumbling to find Spencer's number. She knew Spencer would know what to do. Spencer was logical, practical, and had been through enough with the police and false accusations to help guide Alison through the storm that was brewing.
The phone rang twice before Spencer answered, her voice sharp but full of concern. "Alison? What's going on?" Alison's voice cracked as she spoke, trying to hold herself together. "It's Emily… she… she's been arrested."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, a beat too long that made Alison's heart race even more. "What?" Spencer finally said, her voice low and tense. "Arrested? For what?"
Alison swallowed hard, her throat tight. "For Charlotte's murder. Tanner came to the house. She took her away." Spencer's sharp intake of breath was audible, followed by a string of whispered curses. "Where are you now? Are you okay?"
"I don't know," Alison whispered. "I don't know what to do. Emily didn't do it, Spencer. She couldn't have."
"I know, Ali. I know." Spencer's voice was steadier now, but there was an edge to it, the same panic and anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "Look, I'll tell my mom. Veronica will get on this immediately. Don't worry, we'll figure this out."
"Thank you," Alison murmured, feeling the smallest bit of relief knowing Spencer was already handling things. But the fear still gnawed at her insides, and the thought of Emily locked up, facing accusations of murder, was suffocating.
"I'm coming to your house," Spencer said, already moving. "I'll call the others. You shouldn't be alone right now." Alison nodded, though Spencer couldn't see her. "Okay. I'll… I'll be here… thanks Spencer."
After hanging up, Alison sat frozen for a moment, trying to steady her breathing. The weight of everything felt crushing. She couldn't face this alone, they all had to figure out how to fix this.
Alison's hands were shaking as she set her phone down on the table, her conversation with Spencer still echoing in her mind. She sat on the couch, staring blankly at the spot where Emily had sat just hours before, their quiet world unbroken by the storm that had now torn everything apart.
Emily had been arrested.
The weight of those words sat heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Tanner had taken her—handcuffs, accusations, and all. Alison had watched helplessly as the woman she loved was led away, falsely accused of murder. The house felt too big now, too quiet without Emily's presence. But there was no time to fall apart. Spencer was on her way, and she had promised to call the others.
Alison sat frozen for what felt like hours, her heart racing in her chest. The knock on the door startled her, jolting her from her thoughts. She rose to her feet, unsteady, and walked toward the door with a mixture of dread and relief.
When she opened it, Spencer stood on the doorstep, her expression tight and determined. Without a word, she stepped inside and immediately pulled Alison into a hug.
"They won't keep her, Ali," Spencer said firmly, her voice a little too sure, as if saying it enough would make it true. "My mom is already on her way to the police station. You know she's the best—she'll get Emily out."
Alison wanted to believe her, but the image of Emily being led away in handcuffs lingered in her mind. She nodded weakly and gestured for Spencer to come in. They walked to the living room in silence.
Spencer's phone buzzed as they sat down, and she glanced at it. "I called Hanna and Aria," she said. "They're on their way. We need to figure out what we're dealing with. There has to be a reason Tanner is targeting Emily."
Alison nodded, her throat tight. "She thinks Emily had a motive… because of Charlotte."
Spencer's face darkened at the mention of Charlotte, her jaw clenching. "That's absurd. None of us wanted her dead, no matter what happened in the Dollhouse. Tanner's reaching."
Alison hugged herself, her hands instinctively resting over her growing belly. She felt fragile, like everything around her was falling apart, and she didn't know how to stop it. "But it's not just Tanner… they said they have evidence."
"We'll figure that out," Spencer said, her voice determined. "But you need to trust Veronica. She'll handle Tanner."
Another knock at the door pulled Alison from her thoughts. This time, it was Hanna and Aria, both of them rushing inside, their faces a mix of worry and anger.
"What the hell is going on?" Hanna demanded as soon as the door was closed. "Spencer told us Emily's been arrested? For Charlotte's murder?"
Alison nodded, her voice shaky as she explained. "Tanner came this morning. She said they have evidence… and then they just… took her."
Hanna looked furious, pacing the room with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "How can they arrest Emily for this? She didn't do it! We all know that!"
"Did they say what kind of evidence they have?" Aria asked, her voice quieter, but filled with concern. She sat beside Alison, placing a comforting hand on her arm.
Alison shook her head. "They didn't tell me much. Just that she's their prime suspect."
Spencer leaned forward, her brow furrowed in thought. "It doesn't make sense. Emily had an alibi. We were all together the night Charlotte was killed."
Hanna stopped pacing, turning to face the others. "So what? Tanner's just going to ignore that and arrest her anyway? This is insane."
Aria sighed, her eyes darting between the girls. "It feels like they're grasping at straws, like they don't care who they take down as long as they can close the case."
Alison's voice trembled as she spoke, her fear spilling over. "Emily didn't even fight it. She just… went with them. I don't know what she's thinking. She didn't even say she didn't do it."
The room fell silent as the weight of Alison's words settled in. Emily's reaction to the arrest had been strange, distant, as if she had already resigned herself to her fate. The thought made Alison's heart ache.
"She's probably in shock," Spencer said after a long pause. "Emily's been through so much already. But we know she didn't kill Charlotte."
Hanna sat down across from Alison, her face still twisted in frustration. "Then why didn't she fight back? Why didn't she say anything?"
Alison shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't know. I don't understand any of this."
Aria's voice was gentle as she spoke. "Maybe she's trying to protect someone."
"Who?" Hanna snapped, her anger getting the best of her. "Who would she be protecting? We all know it wasn't her. It wasn't any of us."
Alison wiped at her eyes, feeling overwhelmed. "I think… I think she might be trying to protect me."
The room fell silent again, the girls exchanging worried glances.
"Why would she do that?" Spencer asked, her tone carefully measured.
Alison took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "Because I'm pregnant… and she knows that if they come after me, they could take me away too. Emily… she always wants to protect everyone."
Hanna's face softened as she took in Alison's words. "Ali, you don't think… you don't think Emily's taking the fall for this, do you?"
Alison didn't want to believe it, but a part of her knew that it was possible. Emily had always been self-sacrificing, always willing to do whatever it took to keep the people she loved safe. Even if it meant destroying herself in the process.
"I don't know," Alison whispered, her voice barely audible. "But she didn't deny it, and I… I don't know what to do."
Spencer shook her head, her mind racing. "If Emily's doing this to protect you, then we need to figure out how to stop it. We can't let her go down for something she didn't do."
"We need to figure out what Tanner thinks she has," Aria added. "There has to be something we're missing."
Hanna looked at Alison with a mix of determination and concern. "We're not letting Emily go down for this. We'll fight it, Ali. No matter what."
Alison nodded, though the fear still clung to her heart. She couldn't lose Emily, not like this. And with every passing second, the stakes felt higher. The baby growing inside her, the future they had planned together—it was all on the line now.
Veronica Hastings was their best hope, but Alison knew that even with the best lawyer, the truth had to come out. And that meant they had to figure out who really killed Charlotte.
The house was unnervingly quiet after everything that had happened. Alison sat on the couch, her mind racing, while the girls sat around her, each one of them steeped in a silence that felt too heavy to break. None of them knew what to say, how to process what had just happened. Emily was gone—taken away in handcuffs—and no one could understand how it had come to this.
The sound of a knock at the door shattered the fragile quiet, causing Alison and the others to jump. Alison's heart raced, her pulse quickening in her throat. Who could be at the door now? She glanced nervously at the others, but no one moved.
Spencer rose to her feet, her expression tightening. "I'll get it," she said softly, though there was a tremor in her voice. Everyone was on edge, unsure of what fresh nightmare awaited them.
Spencer opened the door, and standing there, with wide, frantic eyes, was Mrs. Fields. Pam's face was pale, her hands trembling as she stood at the threshold, her expression one of complete disbelief.
"Mrs. Fields," Spencer said, her voice barely above a whisper, stepping aside to let her in. Alison's stomach twisted. Of course it was Pam. Of course she would have questions they didn't know how to answer.
Pam stepped inside, her eyes immediately scanning the room for Emily. The confusion and fear etched into her face were heartbreaking, and Alison felt a lump rise in her throat.
"Wha… what is going on?" Pam's voice broke the tension in the room, her question hanging in the air. "I got a call from the police, but they didn't tell me anything. They said Emily's been arrested." Her voice cracked on the word "arrested," as if the word didn't belong in the same sentence as her daughter's name. "Why? What's going on?"
Alison stood up slowly, unsure of how to even begin explaining. The weight of the situation seemed to crush her, and she struggled to find the right words. The others watched her closely, none of them daring to speak.
"Mrs. Fields… Tanner came this morning," Alison started, her voice fragile, already breaking. "They… they arrested Emily for Charlotte's murder."
Pam stared at Alison, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Murder?" she whispered, as if saying the word louder would make it real. "No. No, this doesn't make sense. Emily—my Emily—she would never…" Her voice trailed off as she struggled to understand.
Pam's eyes were brimming with confusion, darting between the girls. She took a step forward, her voice rising. "She's my daughter! My baby! My only child!" Her voice cracked, and Alison could see her unraveling right in front of her. "How could they accuse her of something like this? She's not capable of hurting anyone!"
Tears welled in Alison's eyes as she watched Pam. Mrs. Fields' words hit Alison harder than she expected, making her heart ache for both Emily and herself. Pam had one child—one daughter whom she loved more than anything in the world. Emily had been through so much—her father's death, Maya, the Dollhouse—but so had Pam, watching her daughter suffer over and over again.
Alison's hand instinctively drifted toward her stomach. She thought of the child growing inside her—Emily's child. She hadn't told Mrs. Fields about the baby yet, and now, seeing Pam's raw pain, it hit Alison even harder. The thought of losing Emily, of being left alone to raise their child, sent a wave of panic coursing through her. Could she survive that kind of heartbreak?
Spencer stepped forward, her voice soft but firm, trying to provide some comfort. "Mrs. Fields, we don't know exactly what's going on yet. Tanner's trying to pin this on someone, and she thinks she has evidence against Emily. But we all know she didn't do it. We're going to fight this."
Hanna, who had been quiet until now, spoke up, her frustration barely masked. "None of this makes sense, Mrs. Fields. Emily didn't say anything. She just… let them take her. But she's innocent. We know that."
Pam's hands trembled as she sank onto the couch, her face buried in her hands. "Why didn't Emily fight it?" she asked, her voice small and broken. "Why didn't she tell them she didn't do it? Why would she just let them take her?"
Pam looked up at them, her face streaked with tears. "Emily's changed so much. Ever since… everything. After losing her father… she was different more distant towards me but I thought she was getting better, but now I'm not so sure. I've been losing her piece by piece, and I didn't even realize it."
Alison's heart clenched. She felt an overwhelming wave of guilt wash over her. Emily had always been the strong one, the one who tried to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. But Alison knew that Emily had been sinking under the weight of all the trauma she had endured. She had been so focused on herself, she hadn't seen just how much pain Emily was in.
"She's still your Emily," Alison said quietly, sitting beside Pam and reaching for her hand. "She's still the same strong person she's always been. But Tanner's put her in a corner, and she doesn't know how to get out."
"Veronica's with her," Spencer added, her voice calm but determined. "She's already talking to the police, trying to figure out what evidence they have. We're not going to let them railroad her."
Pam nodded weakly, wiping at her eyes, but Alison could see the fear still lingering there. "I just don't understand why Emily wouldn't defend herself. She's not one to give up like this." Her voice trembled. "Why didn't she fight?"
Alison's chest tightened again, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Pam the truth about the baby. Not now, not when everything was already falling apart. Emily had stayed silent to protect her and their child, but that wasn't something Pam could handle right now.
Hanna shook her head, clearly upset. "Tanner's got her so scared, she probably didn't know what to say. But we're going to figure this out. There's no way Emily did this."
Mrs. Fields looked down at her hands, her voice barely a whisper. "I need to see her. I need to know she's okay."
Alison squeezed Pam's hand, her own tears threatening to spill over. "We'll get her back, Mrs. Fields. I promise."
The girls sat with Pam in silence for a while, the weight of what had just happened hanging heavily over them all. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts, trying to figure out how they could make this right. Alison kept her hand over her stomach, her mind drifting to Emily, wondering how they could fix this before it was too late.
Pam wiped her face, trying to steady her breathing. "She's all I have. I can't lose her."
Alison's heart clenched at the words. She thought of Emily's baby in that exact moment, the future felt fragile. They were all fighting for Emily—for her freedom, for her life, for her family and for her future.
And Alison knew, deep down, that they had to win this fight.
Emily sat in the back of the police cruiser, her wrists still cuffed behind her, the cold metal biting into her skin. The familiar streets of Rosewood blurred as they passed by, but she couldn't bring herself to look out the window. Her head leaned against the glass, her breath fogging it with each exhale. She stared blankly at the smudged surface, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of everything that had just happened.
The silence inside the car was deafening, only interrupted by the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the police radio. She could still hear Alison's voice, echoing in her mind, desperate and broken.
"Please, Emily! Don't let them do this."
But Emily hadn't fought it. She couldn't. She had watched as Tanner's officers led her away, knowing that every word she spoke could be twisted, every action used against her. It was better to stay quiet. Better to protect Alison— better to protect the baby. Even if that meant sacrificing herself.
Her chest felt tight, the weight of her decision pressing down on her, but there was a strange numbness settling in as well. It was as if all the fear, all the panic had been swallowed up by something darker, something that had been lurking inside her for a long time. Maybe since the Dollhouse. Maybe even before.
The cruiser turned a corner, pulling into the station's parking lot, and Emily felt her pulse quicken despite the numbness. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to face the accusations, the questions, the lies. But there was no going back now. Whatever was going to happen next, she would have to face it head-on.
The car rolled to a stop, and one of the officers opened the door for her. Emily slid out of the backseat, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her, though she forced herself to stand tall. She could feel the weight of the handcuffs, a physical reminder of what she was walking into.
The officer didn't speak as he led her inside, and Emily was grateful for that. She didn't want to hear anything. She didn't want to think. All she wanted was to block everything out, to find some way to quiet the storm inside her.
As they entered the station, the fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glare, making the space feel sterile, impersonal. Emily's eyes scanned the room, but everything felt distant, as if she were moving through a fog. Officers bustled around her, paperwork shuffled, phones rang, but none of it seemed real.
She was led down a narrow hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls. Her heart raced with each step, a dull thud in her chest. Emily's thoughts drifted back to Alison—to the way she had looked at her, to the panic in her eyes. Emily had wanted to reach out, to tell her it was going to be okay, but she couldn't. She didn't know if it would be okay.
They reached a small, dimly lit room, and the officer gestured for her to sit. The interrogation room. Emily's stomach churned as she sat down, her hands still cuffed behind her. The cold metal of the chair sent a shiver down her spine. She stared at the empty chair across from her, knowing that Tanner would be sitting there soon. Ready to pounce, ready to pick apart her every word.
The brunette took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for what was coming. She had no idea what Tanner had on her, what evidence they claimed to have, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn't going to let them drag Alison into this. She wasn't going to let them destroy everything she had left.
The door creaked open, and Emily's eyes snapped toward the sound. Lieutenant Tanner stepped into the room, her face a mask of cold professionalism. She didn't say anything at first, just watched Emily, her eyes sharp and calcu- lating.
Emily straightened in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest, but she kept her face blank, her expression unreadable.
Tanner walked slowly around the table, her footsteps deliberate, almost predatory. She sat down across from Emily, folding her hands neatly on the table in front of her.
"Emily," Tanner said, her voice calm but full of underlying tension. "Let's talk about Charlotte DiLaurentis." Emily's heart stilled for a moment, but she didn't respond. She knew this was just the beginning...
A/N:
Thanks for reading the first chapter. I really appreciate it. I wanted to dive deeper into the complexity of Emily and Alison's relationship and explore a darker, more dramatic side of their journey. Things are only going to get more intense from here on out, so I hope you're ready for what's coming! Feel free to share your thoughts, leave feedback, or just let me know what you think (maybe you have some ideas that can be implemented in this story). I'd love to hear from you as the story continues! Stay tuned for the next chapter.