Chapter 85*

Aria's POV*

"When did that happen?" Spencer broke the moment of tension, eyes darting between me and the door, where Jason had just left.

"Earlier tonight." I admitted with a flush coloring my face.

The attention from the girls was more embarrassing than I had hoped for. But I hadn't wanted to send Jason away with just a hug. And when I had felt his lips press gently against my forehead, I had needed to reach up and kiss him. Desperate for reassurance that this was going to survive other people knowing about us. It was a different experience, and I couldn't help relishing the freedom of them knowing about Jason from the start. It wasn't some secret that I needed to keep from them, despite the fact that they had eventually come to accept Ezra. It had always been a little weird, the way that they couldn't seem to get over calling him Ezra instead of Mr. Fitz even had been a hurdle.

"So did you decide to ask him to prom then?" Emily asked, and I couldn't help the laugh that came with it.

"Yes, I did." I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face, and then glancing over at Spencer I nearly winced. "If that's alright with you that is. I just realized that it might be awkward to have your brother there with us."

"It's fine, Aria. I'm happy for you." she assured, dismissing my concern.

"What about Ezra?" Hanna asked, bringing the elation that I was feeling crashing down back to reality.

"How about we get ready for bed first?" I put off, really not wanting to talk about it.

"Aria?" Spencer's voice had turned concerned.

"It's a slightly more uncomfortable conversation and I would rather we be settled in before we go into it, to be honest." I admitted, not that I didn't want to use this as an opportunity to bail. But I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid it.

"Is that really it?" she challenged, and I felt uncomfortably seen and called out.

"Mike and my dad don't know everything, and I would prefer they don't find out." It was the other reason, other than vainly hoping that Hanna would give up her line of questioning. "Besides, I also want to know what else you heard from the police tonight."

"Fine, are we sleeping down here or upstairs tonight?" Hanna conceded, apparently accepting my response.

"I don't think we're all going to fit into Aria's room." Spencer countered.

"I'm going to let my dad know that you're all staying over tonight, why don't you grab what you need from my room and meet back down here?" I offered, there were at least a few things that I had here that the girls could wear, I was pretty sure that Spencer had actually left a spare set of pajamas here in the last year.

"Alright. I'll make some popcorn." Emily accepted, and I wondered if that meant that we were going for a movie night, or just needed something to munch on while we talked through everything.

I headed deeper into the house, heading for my dad's office that was far enough away from the entryway that he didn't hear when people were coming in. It had been set up that way to ensure that if he was doing work from home that he would be able to focus on things, rather than getting distracted by whichever of Mike and my friends came over. I was pretty sure that my parents had actually added some sound proofing over the years during their last renovation, given the hushed effect that the office had.

I knocked on the door, waiting for his response. He didn't generally love being disturbed when he was grading papers. It apparently threw him off wherever he was at with the flow of the paper. A weird thing, to be sure, but I had accepted it over the years. It was a distinct difference from Ezra, who hadn't cared if I was there when he was reviewing essays. But maybe he hadn't taken them as seriously as my dad who was frequently deciding the grades on papers that could be used for a thesis did. And it wasn't like high school students were anywhere near the same level of expectations and skill. I pushed the thought of Ezra back down, not wanting to deal with the complicated emotions around that right now. I clung instead to the bright happy feeling that Jason was always able to instill in me. Despite the way that my life was falling down around my ears.

"Come in." his voice called out after a minute, and I opened the door.

"Hey, dad. Is it alright if the girls stay over tonight? We wanted to do an impromptu sleepover after the gallery." I informed, hoping that he wouldn't dig in any deeper than that tonight.

"Yeah, that's fine. Your mom already called and let me know that was possible." he waved off the question, and I couldn't help the shock that reverberated through me.

"You talked to mom?" the question came tumbling out, and I couldn't hold it back if I had wanted to. Did that mean that he knew? What all had she told him?

"Yes, Aria. We do occasionally talk. She mentioned that you and your friends were thinking about sleeping over here tonight to celebrate your first time presenting at a gallery."

I was dumbstruck. Not understanding what was going on for a moment. When had my mom called him? Why hadn't she told him about tonight? About the fight we had had when we got back from the hospital? Was she hiding it all from him? And if so, why? I wasn't sure that I could parse it out right now, and hesitating any longer would make my dad question what was going on with me.

"Right, thanks. I hadn't realized she would call you." I muttered, trying to cover the shock that I was feeling.

He looked at me for a moment, confusion visible on his face before he dismissed it, as though shaking it away. "Did you need anything else?"

I shook my head, realizing that he needed to get back to grading papers. He was undoubtedly behind where he wanted to be. Which was probably caused by Mike's banquet and all the shit with the police that had happened with me over the last few weeks. I knew that he liked to get papers back to his students in a few days after they turned them in, which meant that if he was so focused tonight that he was going to be distracted all weekend.

So I left him to it, heading back towards the living room where the girls waited, along with the warm buttery aroma of fresh popcorn awaited me. Hanna was sprawled across her half of the couch, leaving me the other side, while Spencer and Emily took up the armchairs. Neither had a great view of the tv, which meant we probably weren't going to watch a movie, despite the fact that the detective film I had been watching with Jason was still on the screen. I smiled at the sight, appreciating that he wanted to try out the things that I liked. It wasn't the same as it had been with Ezra, who went out of his way to watch old movies before our relationship, but it also wasn't like Jake who had gotten bored and fallen asleep during one of my favorite movies. Jason had at least pretended to have an interest, which I appreciated, even if I was somewhat overwhelmed that he went out of his way to find things that he thought I would like. I felt the blush return to my face when I remembered the Kubrick movie marathon that he had found tickets for us to. It was a good balance, things that he was curious about and that he thought I would enjoy. And tonight I had gone to a movie that brought me comfort, and he had wanted to watch it.

"You seriously don't keep clothes in your car at this point?" Emily was asking the others as I walked in. "We have so many last minute sleepovers. Not even you, Spencer?"

I blinnked at the non-sequitor. Did Emily seriously keep a spare set of clothes, both pajamas and day clothes in her car all the time in case we ended up unexpectedly spending the night somewhere else?

"Wait, you do?" I asked, plopping down on the couch across from Hanna. I scanned down at her outfit, and realized that she had in fact changed into her own pajamas. I had almost forgotten that her car was even here right now, given everything that had happened today.

"Yeah, I keep a spare bag ready in my car all the time. It's no different than a gym bag." Emily explained, turning her attention back to me.

"I don't keep a gym bag." Hanna argued, shifting in her place on the couch, the action coming across surprisingly imperious despite the fact that she was dressed in a set of my sweats, the pants fitting her waist just fine, but looking like capris on her longer legs. "Besides, I like to dress to the season, and I would have to keep too many sets of shoes in my car."

"The idea is just to have something to hold you overnight, Han. Not be able to have a different outfit for every possibility." Emily shot her down, the most practical of us, despite how Spencer tried to keep things in order. "Don't you hate doing the walk of shame after a night out at one of our houses?"

"Fair point, but I feel like we would need to have a few outfits to match the weather at least." I interjected, not knowing how I had walked into this conversation.

"Not to mention that not every outfit is appropriate for every occasion." Spencer rebutted.

"Yeah, it would make sense for us to all keep a few outfits at each of the others houses. That way we always are prepared for a surprise sleepover." Hanna determined, sounding so logical.

"Like you have room in your closet for our stuff." Spencer called out, and I couldn't hold back the laugh that sprang forth.

"I'd make room." she insisted.

"Or steal our shoes." I threw in, unable to hold back the jab.

"We don't even wear the same size." she argued, which was true, she was a half size above me. It wasn't a huge gap from my end, but she wouldn't be able to comfortably squeeze into my shoes.

"And this was precisely why I went with keeping a bag in your car." Emily shot, which was a fair point. It would diminish the arguing.

"I feel like if we were going to do it at each others house we should have done that years ago." It would have made things a lot easier over the years, and I wondered why we had never thought about it before. Even if only in the last two years that everything had gone sideways with A.

"Anyway, we got off topic." Hanna redirected us, and I felt the tension of the evening return.

It had been so easy to pretend that it wasn't a thing tonight. Jason had been a good enough distraction, and even the easy banter with the girls had helped to keep the memories of tonight from seeping back in. Stopping the chill from creeping back under my skin.

"What is going on with Ezra, I mean I know you guys broke up a while ago. But it didn't seem like you were fully over." Spencer questioned.

"We are. Fully over that is." I answered, torn between giving the brief answer and going fully into the truth. "We had talked it over almost a week ago, that I was wanting more space and that we were firmly broken up. Not getting back together."

Spencer gave me a circumspect look, not believing that was actually the end of it. "That feels like you're leading up to a but."

I sighed, almost wishing that she hadn't picked up on that. "Yeah, it was fairly settled. And then Ezra ran into Jason and I outside the clinic on Tuesday."

It was like watching a wave of realization cross their faces as they each understood what I meant. "So he knows what happened then?"

I shrugged, not totally certain what he thought had happened. It could be that he had put it together that it wasn't his or Jason's, but from the dollhouse. But he had flipped to me cheating on him too quickly for me to be comfortable asking anything. I could still feel the way that he had looked at me, face sneering in disgust. It wasn't something that I ever wanted to feel again. And it really felt like it soured whatever chances we could have had to make things work. And part of me, was relieved. My relationship with Ezra had been a huge focus in my life for the last two years. And while I didn't regret it, it definitely had shaped my high school experience. Not that it would have been a typical thing, given the threats and stalking from A over the years. But it had isolated me, even from the other girls.

"Sort of. He seemed to be more of the opinion that it was Jason's, maybe cause he took me to the clinic." I explained, it was the best that I could put together.

"And he didn't react well, I take it?" Emily clarified.

"No, I thought he might hit Jason." I didn't want to include that I had had a moment of thinking that he was going to hit me. Or spit at me.

"Wow, okay. Glad he didn't." Hanna was surprised at the reaction, I guess she hadn't seen Ezra upset ever, which was fair he didn't usually lose it. Not like that anyway. Though I couldn't help but remember how Jake had said that he saw Ezra screaming at someone in the street.

"So long as you're happy." Spencer wrapped up. "And it seems like you are."

I felt the smile creep back onto my face, thinking about the new relationship that I was starting with Jason. It was definitely different. And still in the new relationship energy, but it absolutely made me happy.

"I am. Thanks."

"So what did the cops say to you at the hospital? Did you get anymore info? Or just that they want to know everything." Spencer steered us back to the pressing matters.

"I didn't actually talk to the cops. Just the FBI profiler. The rest gave me space at the hospital." I clarified. "And he had a few questions, mostly just who knew before tonight about me going to the clinic on Tuesday. And then said that he wanted to do a more in depth interview with me later, once I was feeling better."

They nodded, apparently it was syncing up with their own experiences with the profiler. I wasn't sure what to make of him yet. Thrown off by how much he had seemed to care about my well-being. It was a definite change from how Tanner and the other Rosewood cops had treated us all. Even after the dollhouse, they had wanted to know what had happened, even when we weren't ready to talk about it.

"What did he say to you guys? And what's going on with Sarah?" I asked, turning it back over to them, and wondering what had happened at the gallery after I had left.

"He had us walk through our evenings, step by step, each one of us." Hanna emphasized, which it seemed a bit like overkill to make them all go in depth. "Also they don't think that Charles was there tonight, the photo frames were apparently on a loop with a light sensor to turn them on when the lights came on."

I couldn't repress the shudder at the mention of the photos. Even when just talking about how they worked. It brought it all back. Seeing the tortures that the girls had to suffer through. Seeing my own broken and battered body displayed so openly. It made me want to throw up, and I felt my head start to swim again. I took a deep breath, realizing that I wasn't breathing, my lungs struggling to cooperate with my minds demands for air.

"And Sarah?" I prompted, hoping for a distraction from what we had all gone through.

"She's not even answering the calls from the police, so they don't know where she is.." Emily's voice sounded tight, and I reached over to squeeze her hand. "Agent Reid asked if I had a better number for her that might work."

"But she's still working for Caleb, he has to know where she's at?" I asked, looking over at Hanna for an answer.

"Yeah, as far as I know." she grabbed a handful of popcorn and started chewing on it. "I'm just waiting for him to get back to me on this."

I nodded, almost absent mindedly. I hoped that Sarah needing space was all it was. The idea that something had happened to her. That Charles had taken her, was something that I couldn't bear to think of. I shoved it down, the panic threatening to rise up and drown me. He couldn't have done that. Sure the cops weren't a guarantee against something happening to us. But Charles loved to brag. Loved to threaten us and scare us with all the things that he did. All the little traps he had placed to cage us further and further in until we were desperate.

And he had been quiet.

It was the closest thing to reassurance that I could hope for right now. At least until they managed to arrest Charles. Though I had doubts about them being able to do that. Things might have been different now that the FBI was looking for Charles. That they had his name. But Charles was basically a mythical figure at this point. I meant what I had told my mom earlier tonight, they couldn't stop him. He was too much like a force of nature for that. The best I could hope for was to run. As far away and as fast as possible.

"So we can't go to the police. Not even with the pictures that we took of Rhys." Emily finished, her voice resolute about what we could and couldn't do.

"I feel like we're always in the same place." I groaned in frustration. "No matter what we go through, we always end up back in the same situation. Of not being able to tell anyone what's going on."

"Not even when they know what Charles is capable of. No one believes us." Hanna agreed.

"There have to be other things we can do though." Spencer shifted in her seat, sitting up straight and proud. "We can still figure things out on our own. We just need to be completely transparent with each other."

The room was quiet. Tension growing from that statement. And I wondered if it was aimed directly at me. We had already had the honest conversation about what had happened to me in the dollhouse, why Charles had made me go to meet him for his birthday. And yes, I had hidden the fact that I was pregnant. The word instantly making me want to puke, it turned my stomach so much. But that didn't mean that I was hiding more from them.

"We should talk about what happened in the dollhouse." she finished, and if I didn't know her as well as I did, I would have missed the hesitation and quiver in her voice. She didn't want to do this.

Looking over at the other girls, I saw the same fear and shame on their faces. This was agonizing. Hating that we had to expose our vulnerable wounds as a way of trying to stop the torment. It didn't matter that none of us wanted to share. Looking at it from a distance, I knew that Spencer was right. We needed to talk through what had happened to each of us.

"When I first walked into my room, the lights went out." I started, looking between the others for their reactions. I could do this. Could start the sharing. "I took a step forward and stepped on broken glass. It was spread across my floor, from the door to the bed, all along the room. And I had to cross it to get to the bed."

It was something that they had seen in the photos tonight, the image of me dragging my body across glass with blood sliding down into the glass. It resonated in my mind, with not only the feeling of the glass digging into my skin, letting my heat out onto the sea of shards beneath me. But the sounds that the glass had made scraping against other shards as I hauled my bleeding body across the ground when I didn't have the strength to keep walking.

"He left supplies to clean up the next morning, and I had to use tweezers to pull all the glass out of my skin. Then bandage all my cuts." I finished, trying to be done with this, so I could shove the memories back.

"I had alarms." Hanna offered, taking over for me. "From the moment the door shut, I had the alarms blaring in my room and lights flashing. It was more than I could handle. I tried to curl up under the blankets, but as soon as I pulled the cover back I saw a disgusting pile of something. I don't know what it was, but the smell filled the room."

I could feel my stomach roiling and nose scrunching in disgust from Hanna's description. And I wondered about the screams that I had heard from my room. The quiet that had been interrupted by screams coming from the other girls. My own desperation not to scream. Not to make them worry about me.

"It was bad enough that I pulled the blankets off the bed, bundled it up, and tried to throw it into the closet. But when I opened the door, a rat fell out and landed on me. I screamed before I realized that it was dead." she continued, her posture rigid. "But I threw it into the closet with the bundle of bedding."

"My room was freezing." Spencer offered, looking at us. "Cold enough that I could see my breath in the air. And every piece of fabric from my room was gone. I only had the sheet that I was wearing to try to stave off the cold. And when I went to sit down on my bed, it shocked me."

"Like actual electricity?" Emily asked, voicing my confusion. "How?"

"The first time I thought it was just static. But all the metal surfaces in my room started doing it. And would randomly shock me. I found a couple of wires that connected to the legs of furniture, and think that he set it up so that he could shock me if I did something he didn't want." she explained.

I was impressed that she had put it together. It was so different from my own experiences. And I couldn't imagine how painful it must have been to be able to think through everything that he was doing to us. Maybe it was because he let me sleep so much, well more forced me to sleep. I assumed that everything that was happening in there, the being moved around without realizing it was just because I was drugged. And after my first time in the game room, I had accepted that I deserved the pain and torture that I was going through. Trying to figure out how he was doing it wasn't even on my mind.

"It was bugs for me." Emily's voice cut through the air. "My room was dark, and things started moving around. I made it to my bed, but then they startled crawling all over me. I don't know what it was, something big though. Bigger than ants."

I flinched back at her description. That sounded like a nightmare. I felt a shudder roll through my body at the idea of bugs crawling over the bedding, or worse across my skin, into my hair. No wonder she had screamed, it had to be so terrifying when she first felt them touch her, or worse heard them move. The wave of revulsion made me want to puke, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Suddenly feeling my skin was too exposed, open to contact from some unexpected touch.

"Did he make you go to a room that wasn't the game room?" Emily asked, apparently moving the conversation on.

I frowned, trying to think back. There was the little bathroom that was attached to my bedroom, but other than that I couldn't think of a room that we went into. I was shaking my head as I looked over at the others. They shook their heads as well.

"What room, Emily?" Hanna asked, concern lacing her tone.

"It wasn't really a full room. More of a closet." Emily explained, looking back and forth for any sign of recognition. "It was a water tight room. And he made me go inside. The room filled with water, and there was only enough space at the top for me to keep my head above the water. But I had to tread water for what felt like hours."

"How did you manage? Weren't you starving?" I asked, wondering if Charles had been giving her more food than I had been getting. Or if she had been forced to do that while starving.

Her eyes were distant, and she had brought her arms to cross in front of her body, as though she was protecting herself. It was one of the first times that I had really seen the other girls reliving memories of the time in the bunker. Seen the way that it haunted them. I had known, but it was different seeing it.

"I started figuring out the day before that he would make me go to that room. He'd give me more food. Something close to a full meal instead of the scraps."

"He fed me." Hanna informed. "Not every day, but when he did, it was so he could make me purge it."

The image from the gallery of Hanna with icing smeared across her face came back to my mind. And it felt like my heart was cracking for her pain. Forcing her to struggle through that again. Just to torture her. It was brutal.

"He also did something with my clothes. It took me a little while to figure it out, but my clothes kept getting tighter. Mostly around my stomach, no matter how much weight I lost nothing was fitting right anymore. I felt like I was bloated all the time, like my clothes were cutting into my skin."

"Mine was puzzles. He made me do all sorts of anagrams and logic puzzles. Anytime I got something wrong he would shock me. I was so tired. My brain got fuzzy from being awake for so many hours. It felt like my eyes were burning. Even when they watered, it felt like my eyes were on fire." Spencer offered.

"Is that how you figured out his name from the blocks and lists?" I asked, she had always been able to figure out a lot of details, working through things that I didn't have the mindset or the patience for.

"Yeah, I don't know that I want to play scrabble again any time soon." her chin trembled as she admitted that.

And I glanced at her neck, where the 'S' tile normally rested at the hollow of her throat. It was gone. How had I not realized that? When was the last time that I saw it? Had she explained to Toby why she was no longer wearing it? I hoped that she was able to talk to him about what had happened.

"I can't write anymore." the words tumbled out and hurt to admit. "Not since the dollhouse. I'm even struggling to manage my essays."

"What? Why?" Emily asked, sitting up straight for an answer.

"In the dollhouse, I kept a notebook of our punishments. Of the punishments that I picked for each of you. I wanted to make sure that I didn't hurt anyone too much. Or cause permanent damage."

They had heard this before. I knew that I'd told them about the notebook. But we hadn't really talked about the guilt. After getting out, we knew that the punishments weren't real. We didn't actually hurt each other. But I couldn't help the fact that every time that I tried to write something, I saw them hurting. And knew it was my fault. It made my hand shake, even while I was working through my homework. Every time I thought about putting my thoughts down on paper, it stung once more. And beyond that guilt, was the fear that it would consume me. That starting to write about it would lock me into the memories. Release the floodgates that I had shoved everything behind. It wasn't safe yet. I didn't know if it would ever be safe again. And I felt a little more broken at the idea of that being taken away from me.

I remembered the instinctual fear and loathing that had come when Ezra had recommended that I write about it. At first thinking that he meant to sell. Like he had wanted to sell the tragedy of Alison's death and all our secrets. But even after, saying it would be just for me. To process things. I couldn't bear it. Couldn't confront my feelings on what had happened. I couldn't do it. Couldn't bring myself to go back to that place.

"Every time that I try to write something, I just freeze up." I continued, wanting them to understand.

"I went swimming with Sarah." Emily offered up the non-sequitor and I blinked at her.

The emotions that had been surging up through me were quickly squashed by how weird of a sentence that was. How utterly unexpected that was.

"You did?" Spencer asked, sounding as confused as I felt. "When?"

"Yeah, I did. I think it was when you were checking into Leslie." Emily explained, and that did answer the question of just when she had done that. Time seemed to be too slow and at the same time rushing past so quickly. "We went to the community pool."

I knew the other girls were looking at her the same way I was, not understanding where this was going.

"After that room he put me in, I didn't know that I could swim again. Not to mention the pain in my shoulders." she continued, rolling her shoulders as though working through the pain still. And I realized that she had been forced into a position that must have ripped at her shoulders. That's what I had seen in the photo. What, of all the things he had done to her, he had chosen to show to the world.

"I mean, I knew that my swimming career was basically over already. I don't think there's a surgery that would get me back in shape." she almost laughed at the cruelty of it. "But being in the water, it was always something that made me happy. That made me feel like I was in control. That I was strong."

She looked me straight in the eyes, and I could see the fear that had lingered there. That so much of her life had been planned around the idea of getting a scholarship and maybe even trying for the Olympics. And that had all been taken away from her. Piece by piece. First the tear to her shoulder. The accusations of doping. And then the torturous position. And finally her love of the water.

"It's always been a part of me. Even when I wasn't sure of anything else, I knew that I loved swimming. And he almost took that away from me." her mouth twitched in a watery smile as she continued. "That's why I took Sarah to the pool. I wanted her to have a chance of feeling how I used to. And I hoped that if I wasn't alone again. If I was focusing on taking care of her needs as well. That I could go back in the water and feel it again. Feel happy."

"Did you?" Hanna asked, voicing my question before I could.

"As soon as I smelled the chlorine it came back." her face bloomed into a beautiful smile, and I felt my heart squeeze at the sight. "I felt weightless again. Even the pain in my shoulder, it didn't hurt so bad."

She looked so happy talking about it. I was so happy for her that she was able to take that back. That she could do something again that made her look so relaxed and content. And for a moment, I had hope that one day, maybe I could have the same thing. That it wouldn't always hurt like this.

"It won't be the same. I'm never going to be a professional swimmer. I don't know that I'll be able to afford college." she seemed way calmer and more accepting of all this than I was expectating. "But I know that he didn't take swimming away from me. No matter how much he tried."

"Thanks, Em." I said, earnestly hoping that she would understand the depth of feeling in that sentence.

"Do you think he did it on purpose?" Hanna asked, breaking the moment of quiet gratitude and support. "Making us afraid of things that we loved, I mean."

"I do." Spencer answered, completely confident in her answer. "I mean, why else would he make me do puzzles? If not to try and take them away from me."

I frowned at that. Not sure that it totally fit. "He didn't make me write anything. I did that on my own."

"Maybe not, but he probably saw you writing in your notebook. And figured that he didn't have to do anything else to make you hate it." Spencer offered as a solution.

"What did he try and make you hate, Hanna?" Emily asked her, and I wasn't sure what it was either.

"Fashion. Not just in the way that he made my clothes feel. But he made me pick out a wardrobe for all of you." she looked away from us as she spoke.

"What? Why? It wasn't like he was giving us new clothes." Spencer shot back.

"I don't know. But trying to make me hate it is the only thing I could think of. It was really weird. And I didn't really think anything of it at first, but now I think that's what he was doing." she shrugged. "Either that or he was just trying to keep me entertained when he wasn't punishing me."

"I thought the boredom was part of the punishment." Emily noted dryly, surprisingly blase for the topic.

I had a moment of realization, and opened my mouth. It maybe wasn't the thing that they wanted to hear. But trying to make us all hate something that we loved. It didn't feel quite right. Sure there were elements of punishment and torture to each of us. But I couldn't get over the fact that he hadn't made me write. He had forced me to color my hair, but that had seemed more about control and making me look like I had back before Alison disappeared. It was the same as Mona having to wear that yellow top when we first woke up. Like he was establishing us in his world.

"Do you think maybe he was trying to make us do the things we love. Not just in a way to torture us, but so we were still the people that we used to be?" I wasn't sure if that was even coherent. The idea was all jumbled up in my head.

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"We know that Charles had an opinion of who we used to be, before Alison ran away. I mean, he knows all our secrets. But he made Mona dress up in the same top that Alison wore before she left. And then he made me color my hair so it looked the same as it used to." I tried to explain the pieces of it, hoping that it would make sense. "I think maybe he wanted us to do the things that he expected of us. Making Hanna pick out clothes, because she knows all our wardrobes. Making Emily swim, because she's a swimmer and has always loved it. And making Spencer do puzzles because there hasn't been a puzzle you didn't take a crack at."

I called out each of them, knowing that my own experience was slightly different. The only one not forced by him. Apparently my appearance had been enough. Or maybe I had already been playing along without prompting?

"I think he wanted to make us act like we used to. Do the things that he expected from us. Pretend that everything was normal. Even as he punished us."

"You think he wanted us to act like dolls. Even when we were misbehaving, we had to do things his way." Spencer caught on to what I was thinking. "I could see it. He did seem very obsessed with controlling everything we did."

"I don't know that it makes it any better." Hanna dismissed. "I don't really care what his reasoning is, just that he can't do it to us again."

I nodded, completely understanding. She was right, the more important thing was that we were out. And making sure that he never got us back. Other than that, we would figure things out.

"You're right, let's leave that to the profiler." I offered, hoping that it would be enough.

"If he can figure anything out with us not talking to him." Hanna's voice was a touch resentful, and I worried that she was right.

"He's FBI, not a Rosewood detective." Spencer countered. "Maybe he won't actually need to talk to us."

"Let's just get ready for bed. I'm tired." Emily shut down.

I made a quick trip upstairs to collect some additional blankets and pillows with the girls, seeing that the light was already out in Mike's room. Apparently he had already crashed for the night, which was a good thing. He wasn't troubled by all the drama of the night.

I dropped the blankets onto the chair before helping Spencer pull the loveseat out into a bed. The other couch could hold two of us if we put our feet in the middle. It wouldn't be as comfortable as if we were in our own beds.

"Why do you think our moms wanted us all to be here tonight?" I asked, glancing over at the others as we settled down to sleep, the overhead light off and only the end table lamp lighting the space.

"Maybe so we would be here to support each other?" Emily suggested, shrugging as she settled down against the armrest of the couch.

I took the opposite side, me being shorter meant that I usually ended up sharing the couch this way, since it reduced the chances of kicking each other.

"Or they're planning something and wanted us to be out of the way." Spencer countered.

And my heart dropped into my stomach at the thought. My mom had to be with theirs, and she had undoubtedly told them something. What all that was I couldn't be sure. And I desperately hoped that it wouldn't be a problem. But I wanted to smack myself for slipping up and telling her about Shana earlier.

"I made a mistake tonight." I admitted once the light was turned off. It was easier to say it in the dark, when I didn't have to see their faces. The disappointment that would be there when they knew.

"What happened?" Emily was sitting up now, her movement sudden enough to move the whole couch.

"I told her about Shana." I admitted into the darkness, the words hanging in the air as they took in my words. "And about Jenna."

I heard a groan and a couple sighs. It wasn't great. The Jenna thing had been a secret we had been able to keep for so long. And I had suddenly lost it. Broken down and admitted what had happened.

"Why?" Hanna asked, sounding surprisingly calm.

"We were fighting. She was mad because I didn't tell her what had happened in the dollhouse." I explained, still not fully understanding why I had dumped everything on her. "And she kept trying to defend me, saying that things could have been different if I had just told her what was going on. That maybe we wouldn't have ended up in the dollhouse."

I almost choked on the words, it was a bitter thought. One that I didn't trust. But what if she was right. What if we could have avoided the pain and torture that we had gone through? My eyes were burning with tears.

"What if she's right? What if we could have avoided this all?" I let the words tumble out, dropped them on the girls like a grenade.

"Maybe it would have stopped Charles." Emily answered, sounding so calm. "But we can't know that. We'll never know what could have been. Maybe it would have been worse if we had talked about it earlier. Maybe he would have killed us instead of taking us to the dollhouse."

"We wouldn't have gotten Mona back." Hanna's voice was low. "We would still think she was dead. And she would still be in that hellhole."

"Sara too." Spencer contributed. "She would never have gotten out of there if we didn't figure out how to escape."

I nodded, accepting what they said. Even if they couldn't see me in the darkened living room, it helped me to accept it. That even if it was a nightmare, some good had come from the dollhouse. I still wanted to cry, still had the nagging feelings of guilt in the pit of my stomach. But I could push that down, I'd focus on it later. Despite the turmoil of the day, I knew that I would be able to get some sleep tonight. I wasn't alone. I had the others with me, to struggle through it all. Having them here made all the difference in the world. And I wouldn't change that for anything. As I settled down further into the couch, I felt the gnawing feeling wanting to rise up again. But shoved it down, tonight wasn't the right time to work through that. I could ignore the guilt and shame that always liked to rise up when I was in the darkness, settling down and trying to sleep. I heard the others start to drop off to sleep, the even sounds of breathing mixing with the little snoring sounds that came from Emily on the other end of the couch.

It was easier in the dark. With the girls by my side. Reminding me that I wasn't alone. And that maybe we didn't deserve what had been done to us.

End Chapter*

So some bonding time with the girls, and sharing more of what happened with them. Was also a good one to show that the other liars did also go through a lot in the dollhouse, that just hasn't been a part of Aria's story so hasn't gotten included before.

Hope you've enjoyed this one, let me know what you think.