Grief doesn’t ever become familiar - Emily would know. She lost Alison, Maya and her father and it was like having holes carved in her life. She could keep living, but something was missing and it wasn’t coming back.
Then Alison came back.
“She’s a survivor,” Aria tells Emily, gripping her hand.
“This is Ali,” Hanna chimes in. “She’s not gonna let herself be a victim - especially not Jenna’s victim.”
“You guys,” Spencer bites her lip. She sounds unusually tentative. “I don’t think Jenna was the one who pulled the trigger.”
“Spencer,” Aria hisses, squeezing Emily’s hand even tighter. Emily’s a mess right now - they all are. They don’t have it in them to talk about what happened.
Aside from some inaudible rambling while they waited for the ambulance, Emily has been silent. She breaks her silence now, jumping to her feet. “I need to see her.”
“She’s in surgery.”
“I need to see her, Hanna. You have no idea what she’s going through right now.”
Hanna coils back like she’s been slapped. “Maybe you’ve forgotten that Caleb was shot because you believed some stranger claiming to be Maya’s cousin.”
“I’m not talking about the bullet,” Emily replies, the fire draining from her voice quickly. She was talking about the baby. It was terrible - so terrible - that the baby was Archer’s, but it was still Ali’s chance at a family. It was what she always wanted and now it could be taken away from her because Emily left her phone upstairs. Jesus. “I feel sick.”
“Sit down,” Aria places a hand on Emily’s shoulder. Her compassionate side has been amplified by the fact that she went through this with Ezra in New York.
Emily obeys, knowing there’s nothing else she can do. She brings her fingers to her lips. They had finally gotten the timing right. “Maybe we’re all doomed to lose the people we love.”
Hanna looks away, feeling guilty for reconciling with Caleb even though she didn’t do anything wrong. It doesn’t seem fair. “You love her?”
Emily looks up, her eyes widening. She doesn’t want to tell anyone if she can’t tell Alison.
“We all love her,” Aria says, sweeping the spotlight off of Em.
Hanna nods, seeming to believe she over analyzed Emily’s words.
A petite nurse enters the waiting room. “Ms. Drake?”
Spencer looks up. “She’s in the restroom.” She contemplates telling the nurse that she’s Mary’s daughter, but she’s barely admitted it to herself. Besides, there’s no proof.
Emily stands, holding up her hand to show a diamond ring. “I’m Alison’s fiance.”
Confused, Spencer turns to the other girls for an explanation and sees that Aria isn’t wearing her ring anymore. Aria catches her eye and winks.
The nurse looks hesitant.
“What?” Hanna blurts. “Can’t a girl find love again after her husband steals from her and goes MIA? Or is the problem that a girl found love with another girl?”
“Hanna,” Emily brings her hands to her temples. “It’s okay. Look, can I see my fiance or not?”
Biting her lip, the nurse nods slowly. “Right this way.”
Emily rushes after her, the adrenaline returning. She just needs to see Ali. She just needs to see that she’s okay.
The harsh fluorescent lights feel especially blinding at this hour, but Emily ignores them, unable to think of anything but Alison because, well - it was Alison. They could go decades without speaking and Emily would still drop everything for her as soon as she called. If that made her pathetic or lovesick, so be it. She was tired of hiding the way she felt, and right now she didn’t have the energy to do so.
Perhaps this is why when she saw Alison, asleep in a hospital bed looking eerily similar to how she looked in Welby, something inside Emily cracked. It was like losing her all over again, even though she was only a few inches away. It was like every fight they ever had was echoing in her brain and it hurt. It hurt like hell, but what hurt even more was this - every kiss, every glance, every chapter of their story that would only exist in Emily’s memory if Alison ceased to wake up. It was the threat of every beautiful moment they shared becoming nothing more than a painful recollection.
Emily steps forward, taking Alison’s hand. It’s heavy with sleep but still soft, still warm, still Ali. Her voice cracks, “There’s so much we still need to do.”
Their story began years ago but it was not supposed to end yet. There was still Paris and “I love you”s and kissing rocks and forever.
“Please don’t leave me,” She choked out. “I still need to tell you I’m sorry, for all of it. I know you are, too. We still need to dance through sunflower fields together.”
And then she drops Ali’s hand. “I can’t - I can’t do this. You kissed me and you promised and I’ll never be the same. You can’t leave because if you leave, we’ll never know. I know that’s selfish. I know there’s so much more you have to live for than me and I know we still have a lot to figure out. Just - just come back to bed. That would be enough.”
She swears she sees a faint, tired smile grow on Alison’s face.
“She’s going to be fine.”
Emily didn’t even realize the nurse had come in the room.
“She’s a fighter, that girl.”
Emily nods. “A survivor,” She agrees, grabbing Alison’s hand again. “You’re going to be fine, baby. You’re going to wake up soon and then we’ll have the rest of our lives.”
“How about forever?” She imagines Alison would respond.
Like a movie, the blonde just barely opens her eyes - eyes Emily knows better than her own. “Sweet… Sweet Emily, I’m going to be fine,” She echoes, her voice dry and thick with sleep. The nurse brings over a cup of water, but Ali has already closed her eyes. “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”