DAY ONE

The only thing Spencer thinks as she opens her eyes is that she's in her room. It's...nice. The feel of the comforter is heavy on her, bringing a secure feeling that she's lost with everything else. It doesn't feel right though. She wonders if it'll ever feel right, like she didn't make such a mess of everything, like she doesn't always make such a giant mess of everything. Until it dawns on her that her arrest is simply the latest problem in a list of many. She pulls back the comforter just enough to see what she's wearing, her orange jumpsuit, something that causes her to throw the rest of it off and sit up quickly.

This isn't her room.

It's not her house.

Something is wrong.

Most of the things around her aren't real. Copies of things she has at frame that holds nothing more than the image that comes with the frame holds her and Toby at home. Guilt shoots through her as she thinks about him. Things have been so hard for them lately she didn't even bother speaking more than a few words to him when they were both at the courthouse. She loves him but sometimes love isn't enough. Not when she's out there finding comfort in literally anyone that isn't him, finding excitement where she shouldn't. Wren always sends a thrill through her, since the moment she met him in her backyard. It's addictive, just like most things in her life are.

Only there is no comfort and no excitement anymore.

It's fear. Just fear. Nothing more.

She swallows as she looks around the room and tries to piece things together. It's what she's good at. Her mind works faster than she can keep up with sometimes. Her eyes settle on the chair Toby made her, only to find that Toby didn't make it all. It's from a manufacturer. It's the same, though. She's spent more time than she can count in that chair. Whoever brought her there had it made. It creeps her out in the way she hasn't felt in a long while, since Ian was living with them.

Ian killed himself and she's going to die in there.

Fitting.

She throws the chair through the glass window in hopes that it brings her closer to a freedom she desperately desires. She's not panicking, not yet. She's close. Fear and worry flood her like the worst anxiety she's ever had. Says a lot when most of her life is filled with worry and fear that only went away when she was lost in pills. The glass shatters only to reveal what she believed to be the moment she looked throughout the window. It's a wall. There's nothing there.

No way out.

She's stuck.

Briefly she thinks about crying and screaming out but doesn't bother. Not when she knows it won't do anything. There's a camera in the corner that is watching her every move and it makes her feel sick. She wants to be free, not watched like she's an animal in a cage. It's A. She has no doubt that's exactly who it is as she falls back against the carpet and tries her best to breathe. No one will be able to calm her out of her panic attack when she's alone.

It's just her.

Hanna, Aria, and Emily must be in rooms of their own but as she sits there it's just her and that scares her more than anything.

The loud and artificial voice that booms through the room serves as a distraction. It welcomes her in English, German, and Spanish. An odd trio if she ever hears one. Immediately she thinks of anyone she knows who speaks all three. She doesn't. Then the door buzzes open and creaks as it pushes open. The directions are for her to exist and follow the lighted pathway, but she can't imagine that bring anything good.

Nothing good is going to come.

Still. She does it. She follows the rules as she walks out and sees the hall. More walls. The others soon join her and when she wraps her arm around Emily it's the only comfort she manages to find. It lasts no more than a split second as she turns and looks around, trying to find answers where there are none.

It's just them. Being dolls.

Normally Hanna's use of bitch serves to amuse her, especially with A, but nothing amuses her. Instead they all walk down the lighted pathway. Emily grabs onto her arm and she lets out a shaky breath. They walk slightly behind Aria and Hanna, fear radiating off all four of them in waves she can feel. It only sets her nerves more on edge.

The lighted pathway stops them at a room with the soft sound of music coming from it. She inhales sharply as the door pushes open and see someone sitting at the piano. At first glance she thinks it's Alison. The hair and the top make it so, sending her back to the night she runs from at every possible chance. She still only remembers bits and pieces, never able to trust herself about what really happened. Not even able to completely trust Alison's version of events.

As they walk closer she knows it's not Alison, though. Not with the completely plastic mask on her face and the way she doesn't miss a note in the song. She was always endlessly competitive with Alison and remembers they way they would fight over who could play it properly before Alison would hurl a mean comment at her and storm out of the room. She wishes things were that simple again.

She doesn't expect for it to be Mona under the mask and doesn't hide the shock and horror on her face.

Mona is alive.

When Mona declares herself Alison she realizes just what kind of fucked up house of horrors they are in. The girls always die in those movies and that's why she hates to watch them. Emily always picks them and they always manage to send Spencer's mind into overdrive of what is going to happen to them. Some nights she would write her thoughts off as being nothing more than anxious manifestations, but now it's a reality.

They sit for tea time and she only feels her frustration grow. Somehow, the fear manages to calm within her and she's just annoyed. Mona is acting like Alison completely. From the color of her hair to the insults she hurls to the way she carries herself. It's entirely Alison in an odd way. She doesn't think Mona chooses to be there but she has so many questions she doesn't know where to start.

By the time she thinks of something to say there are chimes and Mona is walking out of the room. They follow her until they are sitting around a game. She never manages to open to see her who her prom date is and she thinks that is for the better. A knows about her little tryst with Wren but she doesn't want anyone else to know. Bigger things to worry about but somehow he manages to make his way in.

Things backfire all too quickly until the alarms are blaring and she's covering her ears to drown the noise out. She follows Mona's direction and runs back to her room before the door slams behind her.

Quiet.

She moves to open the door again but it's locked, locking her in the room that is hers but not hers all in one.

She remembers the time she had the flu and would stare out the window for hours on end while her father confined her to the bedroom. Everyone else was out of town and he had no idea how to take care of a sick Spencer. He tried, for that she smiles as she looks out the window. Even in her worst moments and knowing that her dad has been lying to her for years it's hard to hate him as she stands there. She hopes they know she's missing and are looking for her.

In the corner she remembers the time she kissed Wren for the first time. He kissed her but she didn't stop it. It felt good, nice, but totally wrong so she put a stop to it. Not that it stopped Melissa from finding out and hating her. She patched things up with Wren though. Sleeping with her sister's boyfriend is far worse than kissing him. If she never makes it out maybe Melissa never has to know. She can tell Wren under no circumstances will it happen again and he should be with Melissa. If A lets that actually happen.

The bed holds the memory of when she had sex for the first time with Toby. Everything fell apart after that and sex isn't exactly ever doing her any favors other than feeling good. Really good. There's a sigh that slips from her as she walks on over to the bed, laying down on it. Most days being able to lay on her bed in the middle of the day is a luxury...or what she thinks is the middle of the day. She doesn't know, assumes they are underground, but does it anyway. The lights shut off just as she does and she lays under the covers.

Night or a signal for night.

She's exhausted but sleep is impossible to come by when she lays her head on the pillow. She's half terrified it's going to kill her in the middle of the night, but she doesn't have much of a choice, does she? The amount of times she closes her eyes to open them back up is borderline ridiculous. She sees flashes of her past and scenarios of potential futures she can really do without. Freedom is something she misses, even if she barely had any to begin with. At least she wasn't a doll in a house.

How much time passes when she's laying there's she's unsure but then Mona is pushing her door open telling her to come out. She learns about the generator before she has to go back to her room. It only makes her think.

If there's a way in there's a way out. Something has to be on the other side of that door. Probably something A doesn't want them to see. She wonders how important food and water are to her when she thinks about making a path for it the next night. It's reckless and stupid but she doesn't really have that much to lose, does she?

It's only when she's thinking of plan does she manage to find sleep.

DAY FIVE

Any thought of her ability to survive without food and water is gone when they are still stuck outside after trying to make a break for it, feeling like they were actually getting somewhere. She feels hungry, tired, and cold. She doesn't know what to do or say. They talk absently but it's nothing of substance. She's half certain her brain is melting into a puddle of nothing. It won't make a difference if they have to spend more time out there.

All she does is think. Think about anything that can possibly keep her from thinking of the harsh realities that lie before them. She wants things to be good and she wants to go home. It feels so childish to keep wishing that she's at home dealing with everything, but there's a certain expectation of what can come at home. Out there they have nothing.

"I had sex with Wren in London." She doesn't necessarily mean to blurt it out but the secret is itching at her.

"What?" The rest of them say in unison as they look at her with wide eyes.

"What about Toby?" Emily asks in a far too judgemental tone.

"He's not even speaking to me." She shrugs, acting as if it's anything of a proper excuse. "I wasn't thinking. When I'm around Wren my brain just doesn't work."

"I can't believe you slept with Downtown Grabby." Hanna whispers at her.

"Well you had just gotten arrested."

Hanna shoots her a glare. "So, it's my fault?"

"No," Spencer emphasizes. "I don't regret it. A knows. I'm sure Melissa will, too."

"He knows about A." Mona informs after a moment of silence.

"What?" Spencer doesn't trust her for anything but there's something about the words that just sting. "That's not…"

"When I was in Radley. He was my doctor. He has secrets Spencer."

"I know he has them." Spencer bites back at her. "We all do. That's why we're here."

"He was the one who manipulated your mother into talking to me and got her thrown off of Hanna's mom case." Mona only grips herself tighter. "He did it in plain sight."

"What?" Hanna and Spencer ask together.

"Maybe he's...behind this." Emily's words are gentle, that soft look in her eye whenever she's trying to jump too far in the deep end.

"No," Aria shakes her head, "are we really saying it's Wren?"

"It's not." Spencer immediately dismisses.

Emily keeps her sights focused on her friend. "Spencer…"

"Maybe he just wanted to gain your trust." Hanna throws the idea out. "Both of us. Two out of four."

"Then who is Charles?" It's the glaring flaw in everything. He's a doctor. An actual medical doctor. It's not the easiest thing to fake.

"We all know things are not always what they seem." Aria offers.

"Yeah, how is Ezra's book by the way. Maybe he's A, too." Spencer doesn't bother to hold her tongue. "You're still sleeping with him right?"

"That's not…"

"What, fair?" Spencer rolls her eyes. "None of this is fair, Aria."

"Okay, enough." Emily raises her voice at them both. "We're not going to get anywhere by fighting."

Spencer lets the conversation drop mainly because she doesn't want to fight with Aria over it. She also doesn't want to think more about it. Only all she does is think about it. Her mind obsesses over it and thinks of every interaction she had with Wren. If it's true he can't care for her, but a dollhouse seems extreme. A is extreme, she notes.

It's always been you, Spencer echos in her head. It seems like a lie even when the words slip from his lips, but as she wraps herself tightly in her dress it seems more...ridiculous. He and Melissa got back together without bothering to tell her. Neither of them ever did and she only found it out because of Toby. She was happy for them, in a way a sister can when Wren means something more than she's ever willing to admit to herself or anyone else. It's not even as if they stayed in Rosewood. They live in London. Far away from her and all her dramatics brought on by A.

"When I was in Radley...he let me sneak out and back in when I was working for A. He's the one who authorized the passes. He knew about Mona. He knows...things about my family. He and Melissa kept saying everything was to protect me. From what?" She's practically talking to herself over anyone else around her. "I'm here. We all are. What if we were wrong? All those times we suspected Melissa and thought she wasn't it, but what if she is? What if they are doing this to us?" The realization hits her hard and she has to struggle to keep herself together.

"Shh, it's okay, Spence." Hanna whispers just as Spencer puts her head on Hanna's shoulder.

"It's not. It's not okay."

The door clicks open just as the sun rises. They debate about going down there before they decide they need to stick together. There's no other way. They need to stick together if they are going to survive. Survive is the only thing that matters anymore. If it's Wren or Melissa who is controlling the entire game she'll worry about it when the time comes.

She holds onto Emily as they walk back down in the bunker and there's a new kind of fear. It mixes with everything else inside of her and she thinks of all the movies she's seen and all the books she's read. She likes a good tragedy but prays that her life doesn't turn into one, not anymore than it already is.

When the gas pours out from the halls she doesn't think things are looking good.

She's the last to wake up and hold the sheet tight against her. She can feel that she isn't wearing any clothes and tries not to think about that means. Charles, that's who she has deduced is behind everything. If that's a cover for someone else she doesn't want to know, not as she slips her hand underneath the sheet to feel herself so she doesn't miss something done to her. The only thing is that she feels clean, unusually clean, as if she was dumped in a whole bath of bleach.

The pounding in her head makes it harder to think but she assumes A wants to send a message to their parents. She just has a hope that every time her parents, Wren, and Melissa say they want to protect her it means something. If they want to protect her she'll make it out of there. Otherwise...well, she doesn't know how long they'll all be in there.

Mona's defiance of A seems like a bad idea but she doesn't move to stop her. Reverting back to being Alison and suddenly deciding that they need to stop listening to the orders being given seems a recipe for disaster. It feels true as they are ordered to go back to their rooms. She's cautious as she holds the sheet to her, not bothering to take the aspirin or drink the juice, and walk down the hall.

An ominous feeling washes over her as the door slams behind her and she turns around to look at the room. There are pictures of her on the night of Alison's disappearance plastered over every inch of the room. The shovel is in her hand as she looks on at Bethany.

"No, this is...no." She murmurs to herself as the room starts echoing with voices of things her parents and Melissa have said to her over the years. Reminding her just how much she doesn't fit in with her Hastings family. She's not her mother's daughter and things suddenly fit in place. No wonder she was the outcast while Melissa was shown as some golden child. She is their child. It reads like a sad novel and it is sad. Everything is sad.

Her bed is covered in pictures of her and Wren. From the time she kissed him after she found out Toby was working for the A team to them running through the streets of London to compromising positions of them in what she thought was a place no one was watching them. She doesn't think A is using him against her to hurt her, but to flood her with a guilt. It's one that comes all too easily when she picks up one of the pictures, her sheet falling a little too much, something she dismisses.

"You're not going to break. Not again." She speaks as she looks at the camera with a conviction. "Not with my parents, not with Melissa, not with Wren, not with Toby, my friends, anyone. I'm stronger now. You will not break me."

DAY NINE

Her back is sore as she sits in the middle of the room staring at the plate of food on the floor. It comes every day at the same time. Not that she's really sure what time it is. In the beginning she tried to keep track but being underground doesn't do much to give her any sense of the time of day. That and she's always awake. The pills started a day after she came back to her room covered in the pictures and audio of everything. Probably because she said she wouldn't be broken.

A is determined to make sure it's not true.

It's awful in that really good way. It's torture, she knows. To give her the pills that send her right back into a relapse but ones that make her feel so at peace with herself. She does get ancy a lot, almost wants to claw at her own skin, wondering if they are laced with something more. Wouldn't put it past A given she's stuck there. Even tried to refuse the pills a few times over before it only resulted in her being harmed more and the alarms blaring for everyone.

She couldn't do that to her friends forever.

A never takes the food back no matter if she eats it or not. Leading to her always consuming it in the end but she feels more lost and tired than she does most days. It's not her turn for the little torture games that lead her to the pain and tears she can't keep at bay. She knows it's just someone else on the receiving end, to which she doesn't think about. She wants to protect them but she can't even protect herself.

She doesn't really know how long she's been sitting there staring into space. A while, she assumes. The water bottle is warm and her brain is a mess of jumbled thoughts. She's tired but awake all at the same time. There are two pills sitting in the corner of the tray and she's trying to resist. She needs to detox but knows it's not that simple. In her body or on everyone else. She needs to keep them all alive...if they are even still alive.

She hasn't seen Hanna, Aria, or Emily since they moved from the morgue to their rooms. She doesn't hear them much as of late. Doesn't hear much of anything anymore. She worries about Mona, in a slightly surprising twist of events. There's so much that flows through her mind she feels something nearly broken inside of her.

A can't know that.

"I'll take the pills." She says after a few minutes, toying with them on the tray. "Wouldn't want your game to be disrupted."

Her eyes close as she does just that, picking at the food on the tray after. Alive. She needs to stay alive. It's a punishment for everything, that's all too clear. She's done a lot of terrible things over the years and in some way doesn't blame A for the torture that is placed upon her. There are lessons she never seems to learn. Sleeping with Wren is clear on her mind with her inability to learn lessons. It doesn't help she misses him. She actually misses him. Something she never thought would happen, nor would there be an ache right next to Toby. She's supposed to be a loving girlfriend but loving girlfriends didn't sleep with other guys just because they weren't speaking to their boyfriends, didn't kiss other guys either.

She falls back onto the floor and ignores the pain on her back. An attempt to close her eyes does nothing with how awake she is, only opening them up when it feels near painful. Everything is painful.

"Wren," she gets the courage to whisper, avoiding looking in the direction of the camera at all costs. "I don't know that it's you. Things don't add up but I don't think you're this...insane. Maybe it is. Maybe I don't know you at all. It didn't feel like you in that suit. It didn't smell like you. You wear the same cologne, always," she closes her eyes as a small smile finds her, "and it's the one Melissa bought for you. It's nice. Comfortable. You were never safe. Toby is safe. You are wrong, dirty, but you look at me like you actually care. You're always there when I need you. You're secretive, mystery, but gentle. The way you whisper my name. Spencer," she does her best impression, '"I don't know...if it s you I hate you. I want to believe you wouldn't do this to me, but if you knew...if you knew and left me here to die then I don't know you at all."

The room remains silent but she feels watched, like she isn't alone, while knowing she is alone. The door didn't unlock so no one could enter, leading her to just remain there.

"Why would you get my mom thrown off Ashley Marin's case? I can't piece it together. Wildren tried to kill me. Ian tried to kill me. This A is trying to kill me. Would almost make sense if it was you. It hurts more than I anticipated it would though."

There's an ache in her chest that she doesn't understand and she wants to understand. It's not like she's in love with Wren. In some alternate universe she's sure she can be, but the reality before them makes it so she isn't. She went to Toby when he went to Melissa. It's so messy. If it is him though...she can feel the first cracks beginning to find her.

DAY TWELVE

Just being in the room makes her feel like she's going to be sick, a wave of nausea that she has to hold back. She's been conditioned enough to know what is going to happen and is willing to do anything to make the outcome different. It's too much. Some days she's far more fragile than she likes to admit to, but she is. The tears form in her eyes as she walks down the hall, following the lighted pathway, and walking into the room that are familiar with her screams.

There's hesitation as she looks down at the board and takes a seat in the chair. She wonders how many times Hanna, Aria, and Emily sit in that very chair. Probably the same as her, if A wants to play even. A never strikes her as someone who wants to play fair, not when they are trapped in some dollhouse and the idea of ever getting out is slipping away with each day. She misses home and sleep and being outside and would even take Melissa yelling at her right about now.

"Please choose a name." The electronic voice announces through the speakers.

"No." She whispers, a little louder than she has all the other days, in a way she knows she'll pay for it.

"Please choose a name."

"I'm not going to hurt my friends."

"Please, choose a name."

Spencer stares down at the pictures of her friends before her. The adderall is coursing through her system, forcing her to keep her eyes open and focus so intently on each of them. She misses and hates them all in one disorderly go. She wants to hug Hanna and feel the way the other girl leans into her, the way Aria grips like she's about to die with every hug, and the way Emily lets out the soft exhale when she's content in the arms of someone else.

But she also hates them for everything that has happened over the years. She hates that she met Alison and them. She hates the way Hanna will drive her crazy and not listen to reason. She hates the way she can't go five minutes without hearing about Ezra. She hates that stupid book. She hates how much Emily loves Alison for the simple fact the part of her that can love slips further away as the months tick by.

She hates all of it.

She hates the way she admitted to Wren and they all put those stupid ideas in her head. She wants to cry at the thoughts of everything that's happened over the years. She can't take it. She's slowly breaking but doesn't want A to win. Part of her feels like there's no way out. She feels like she's in Radley over again and everyone is staring at her like she's about to crumble. None of them are staring at her though. It's just the memories and what her eyes make out in the darkness.

She'd almost rather be in Radley.

At least there were other people. She could talk to Wren or Eddie or another patient who didn't know who she was. She sat there in the circle and felt a void that felt so nice. She wants to feel that again. The drugs don't really help with that. They make her on all the time. They make her anxiety kick into overdrive so she sits in that bed day after day staring into absolute nothingness while her brain tries to piece things together.

Nothing ever comes.

Nothing makes sense.

Sometimes she thinks A should just kill her. It makes for a better story. She's not ready to die. It's just some moments pass her by in which she isn't sure how much more she can take. It's a lot, too much almost, combining with thoughts that are more dangerous than most that run through her head.

The instructions are heard three more times before she feels a jolt move through her, causing her to jump a little in her seat, and bite down on her lip. It hurts but that's the point, it's meant to hurt, meant for her to remember. She'll remember forever. Her body runs hot in the outfit A chooses for her. The pants feel thick and heavy against her skin. The button up under the sweater she's wearing is stuck to her in the way that makes it feel like she's caught in a summer storm when the humidity makes her want to lock herself in her bedroom with the window shut.

In some way, she misses her actual room.

She misses the way she used to be able to look out the window and see Alison's room. It brought her some suffering over the years. Like the time Ian kissed her in that very room after kissing her in the backyard and she could see Alison's face through the window. She watched with an obsession that she later used against her. If Alison had been around when she was kissing Wren no doubt the obsession would be the same.

Only she wasn't.

Alison couldn't been seen from her window.

No one could.

It was just her.

Alone.

She swallows when the next jolt runs through her. Between that and being alone her mind is something of a jumbled mess. She likes being around people and her friends. She almost always is. The most time she ever spent alone was when she was lost in the drugs, which almost seems fitting as she's about to bounce out of her chair just from being restless. She wants to run, far away, if only for a few moments, to just feel something other than the suffocation.

"Please choose a name."

"I heard you." If Hanna was there she'd of said bitch, which gives her something of a smile. The smile falters almost instantly as she looks down at the pictures and shuts her eyes. She does her best to be even in who she chooses but sometimes it's too hard and she just allows her hand to land on someone.

Today it's Emily and her scream echoes throughout the room.

She cries the moment she gets back to her room and doesn't know how she'll ever look at any of them in the face again.

DAY FIFTEEN

The pills stop showing up two days prior, or what Spencer thinks is two days. She's gotten decent at figuring out how much time is passing her back. Two weeks, roughly, if she's managed to be right. There's nothing to tell her if that's true though. Her brain is fuzzier than ever and her environmental factors are beginning to get to her. She's borderline going insane in the way she'd likely get a lifelong stint in Radley.

She's dependant on the adderall by now, itching in her room when there isn't any, a desperate need overcoming her. It makes her feel too weak to function and she's cried so many times she doesn't know what to do. It's not fair that she is like this and Jason is right along with her.

Jason.

She misses him, misses the only brother she has. They quarrel more often than not, especially in the events leading up to being kidnapped. She hopes he is worried but doesn't know that he is. Doesn't know that any of her family is. Maybe they think it's better that she's gone. She thinks it's probably better that she's gone. There are a lot less complications when she's gone. She's not there to mess up anyone's lives more than she already is.

She throws off the covers in a huff, getting frustrated by being stuck there. It doesn't take her long to throw one of the pillows at the decorations sitting on the dresser opposite her. Every time she leaves and returns to the room there's something more. She doesn't want or need any of it. She just wants to be home, to be outside, to be free. She isn't getting that anytime soon.

The sound of the camera zooming in on her only makes her narrow her gaze in a glare at it. She's been exposed in every which way that there's little left to feel much shame about. Doesn't bother her much that she threw a pillow and knocked over the dumb little display.

"Charles," she mutters, the name that is on her mind more than Wren's in her list of possible suspects, "is that what turns you on? Kidnapped girls. Hot."

She's already traveled through every possible road and just lands on the fact that this all for some sick satisfaction she can't understand. They've been tortured for nearly two years and it was never like this. They were never just dolls living in their rooms and only able to do things at certain times. The only thing she can do on her own watch is sleep and she can never sleep. She almost wishes she can fall into a depression so she can sleep.

Spencer never thought she'd be standing there wishing for more problems.

The lack of drugs in her system make her easily more frustrated with everything and everyone. She's bored and restless. It's quiet except for when she hears someone, Mona, she assumes, walking down the hall to deliver food so they can actually survive. It's better than the hole, she supposes, but not much better than anything else.

Her body aches and tingles all in one. She curses herself for all the thoughts that come for her to pass the time. Sometimes it's simple things like standing in the sun or playing in the snow, but other times it's Wren and her in that hotel room. Anything to actually get through the days so she doesn't feel like crumbling into a pile of nothing.

It seems so favorable.

Her door unlocks and opens just enough, causing Spencer to move herself from the bed and walk to it. It doesn't close and she decides to follow the lights. No directions guide her but none stop her either. The hall is cold in her tank top and shorts, socks covering her feet with nothing else to bring her warmth. Her arms wrap around herself until she's in one of the back rooms she's never been in before.

There are no expectations anymore. Just following the guide and hoping she doesn't end up in worse condition.

The room is exactly like the one she had in Radley, nothing she wishes to relive, but she walks further in anyway. It's the desk in the corner that manages to grab her attention with files sitting on top of it. For a moment she forgets exactly where she is and takes a seat, opening the file.

It's her own with notes about her time in Radley. She skips over most of the details not needing to relieve it. Anxiety seems to be an understatement anyway. It's not the file so much as the drawing that falls out of it that piques her interest. A drawing from a farm with the only thing colored in a red coat. When she turns it over it has 'it just goes to show you can't trust anyone' written behind it. It strikes her as odd in general but it's her file being signed by Wren and the drawing itself holding his initials down at the bottom that really cause her brain to tick.

She remembers when Eddie told her that he thought Wren wasn't working at Radley for the right reasons. She never thought much of it after that. Didn't focus as Wren and Melissa got back together, as they moved to London, as she found the Adderall and everything focused on Ezra. Wren didn't seem to be much of a thought one way or the other. The A messages continued whether or not he was in town.

It's the one flaw in her suspecting him. He lives in London. Melissa wouldn't cover for him, would she? Would her own sister let her suffer this fate? Even for Melissa that seems…

Melissa once told her that everything she's done is to protect her since before it even started. She probably means with her mother not actually being her biological mother, but Wilden, Garrett, Jason...it comes to a point where she just doesn't know anymore. It's all too complicated, but if anything she needs more answers than she can get while she's lock underground is some weird torture dungeon.

She only takes the picture from the file, not caring about much else, before she walks back to her room.

DAY TWENTY

When her eyes open she is definitely unsure about exactly what day it is. She's exhausted but she feels more groggy than exhausted, something that as the bright light shines through her window nearly shocks her awake. It's as her eyes come to fully open and she takes in the surroundings of her bedroom does she feel wet, like she's sitting in something. Slowly, she looks down to see the blood she's sitting and covered in.

Immediately she jolts back and checks herself for wounds. It takes a few moments before she notices the gash on her arm but realizes it doesn't hurt much. She must be in shock or filled with drugs. She's not putting anything past A anymore, not when she spends most of her time there having something in her body.

Her eyes glance over to the body of Noel Kahn, sending her into a frenzy as she crawls over to him, checking him for wounds. He's the last person she expects to find but can't actually think much of that now when she's so desperate to make sure he's alive. She checks his pulse on his neck and lets out a sigh of relief when she finds it. If nothing else she hasn't murdered him. She tries to shake him awake, noting how weak she's gotten by being locked up in there for...weeks, it should be weeks by now.

"What did I do?" She whispers to herself before looking up at the camera. "What did you make me do?"

Nothing comes in reply as she searches his body, finding a wound on his stomach. It's bleeding, so much that she knows it's recent, and only causes her to ask more questions than she has answers for. She pulls off her tank and rips it in half, doing her best to put some pressure on it.

She's in full on panic mode, which does nothing to help her. Moments pass in which she wonders if it's even really, maybe she's just gone so insane that nothing is real anymore. If she was at home she could at least research the effects of solitary confinement on the brain. But she's not hope and Noel is letting out a groan as he looks over at her.

"Always wanted to see Spencer Hastings in her bra just didn't think this is how it'd happen."

She smiles, letting out a dry laugh. Not because she finds it funny or even entertaining. Noel was always an Aria thing, not a Spencer thing. But because he's there and alive and even if it only lasts for a few minutes she's not alone. That's the best part, even with the blood, unanswered questions, and the pain that is shooting through her arm.

She's not alone.

"Sit up," she orders, pulling him up as she does, checking him for anything else before they both lean against the bed. "What are you doing here, Noel?"

"Long story."

She trusts him about as far as she can throw him, which is not at all. "Do you know who A is?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Not directly."

"You're working against us, aren't you?" It's not much of a question, so much as a statement.

"Our families have a lot of secrets. All three of them."

"What does that mean?"

"Hastings, Drake, and Khan. Find the common thread and you can unravel the answer."

"Noel, that doesn't make any sense."

"Your boyfriend knows some answers."

"Toby?"

"The other one." He hands her a flash drive. "Don't say I never gave you anything."

"Did you put the pills in my locker? Why did you help Ali?"

"The same reason Dr. Kingston did." He stands and pulls something from his pocket. "Forgive me. I was never here."

"What?" Before she can even register his hand is covering her mouth with something and she slowly loses consciousness.

DAY TWENTY ONE

She wakes up in the bed and has to question everything as the darkness confuses her. Immediately she notices that there is no blood covering her and that she's wearing something else entirely. She can't even make sense if Noel is real or not. If he is...she doesn't want to think of him as the ones who cleaned her up and put her in the new clothes.

The flash drive immediately hits her and the thought of Wren helping Alison.

As the days pass her by nothing makes any sense.

In a hurry she moves around the room, all but tearing it apart as she looks for that damn flash drive. Not that she has the ability to see what is on it, but she's leaving with it. That and the drawing she took from the Radley file. She begins to think that Noel and A are two different people, if her mind is to be trusted. It's not, not when she's dying for a pill while feeling like she's going to be sick all at the same time.

It does make sense that there would be more than one person. Noel couldn't stay there without arousing suspicion and whoever is doing this to them probably has to keep up appearances. It only brings her back to Wren and Melissa being in on it. Melissa is something of a new addition but she doesn't think her sister would be blind to anything Wren did. She always had ways of finding things out. Even with Ian she knew so much more and was hell bent on protecting her creep of a husband. Just the thought of Ian has to make her swallow down the contents of her stomach. Locked in a room after she's been sick seems worse than a lot of things.

She finds the flash drive taped underneath the desk along with the drawing. Noel has to be real. Noel has to be there. She really needs to see her friends, see if they see him, or are close to uncovering any answers. She isn't close to uncovering any answers at all, only going closer to the brink of insanity.

It's those kinds of glimpse that make it easier for her go through the torture. Much like her addiction to the pills it seems her addictive tendencies covers all facets of her life. She needs answers.

DAY TWENTY EIGHT

The pills clear her mind in that way she continues to hate herself for taking them. If she doesn't there's punishment but she doesn't like that her mind is so messed up it seems she works better when she's on them. It's easier to piece everything together when she doesn't need sleep and she can sit there and run through her entire life in her mind. So little is real.

She hates that it's not even anything she sees as a bad thing anymore. The bad part are the days where she doesn't have the pills, when the withdrawal symptoms hit her and she feels like death warmed over. If A is going to mess with their lives she's at least going to enjoy what she can.

That's how she knows just how fucked up she is.

Her eyes open as she sits up in her bed, feeling the weight shift. It's Alex, looking at her in a gentle way that only makes something sad wash over her. Sadness seeps in a little more than it used to. She takes things as they come. Her days increase with the little game A plays. If she has to pick which one of her friends to harm again she's going to insane, find a way to be tortured just so she doesn't have to hurt another. It's Hanna's scream that resonates in her mind more often than not.

"What are you doing here?" She whispers, only able to look for a moment before shutting her eyes. It's a hallucination. This time she is sure of it. Not like with Noel. He's questionable enough to make her believe he can be there, but Alex is Alex. She's a sister she just met and was kept a secret thanks to Wren. That doesn't instill much faith but more than it does Noel.

"Shhh."

"I'm tired. So, so tired. I can't sleep." She is desperate for sleep, finding it so hard to function. So much so just having Alex there is nice. "I'm going to die in here."

"You're going to be fine, Spencer." Alex whispers, tucking her hair behind her ears. "You have a whole life to live."

"I don't." The tears fall and she can't help herself. "I'm drugged and my mind won't shut off." She pauses as she tries to contain herself, tries to remember A is watching her, that A can see her breaking. "Why didn't you want me to know you?"

"Cece convinced me, I told you."

"Is that why she got close to Alison? So, she could keep an eye on me?" It seems stupid and not right. Her mind is running in circles and she feels like she's missing just one piece. "Is she our sister? Mary Drake? Cece Drake?"

Alex's fingers stroke her cheek. "You already know the answer to that."

"No," she shakes her head, "I don't. She was nice to me. I always wanted a nice sister."

"You have a nice sister."

"I'm not the nice sister." She murmurs, laying back against the bed. "I don't deserve the things they to do for me."

Alex lays down next to Spencer, glancing over at her briefly. "You don't deserve this, do you?"

"I think I do." She swallows as she feels as if she's falling deeper into a darkness she tries to avoid at all costs. She's done some terrible things. She continues to do terrible things even though she knows better. The worst part is that she doesn't always feel the remorse she should. Amends come and go but moments pass her by in which she just needs the answers, needs to win the game she doesn't even know she's playing. She's done it to Melissa and Jason both more times than she can count. Alex doesn't deserve to see any of that. Twin or no twin. From what little she knows of the girl who looks exactly like her it's as if their personalities are on opposite ends of the spectrum. As if being raised by Peter Hastings triggered things in her that she cannot run from no matter how hard she tries. "This should have been us. Laying in bed, talking, being sisters. Sometimes Melissa and I would lay here until Ian would take her attention."

"There's still time for us, Spencer, but you need to get out of here."

"I feel like I'm going to die." She barely manages to get the words out, shutting her eyes as tight as she can. "A is going to win."

"You're stronger than that."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I bloody do. Live, Spencer. Live. For me, for Wren, for Toby."

She wishes the words would resonate with her but there's something so false feeling in them. "If Melissa finds out…"

"She won't. I won't let her."

"Promise me something." Spencer whispers, glancing over at Alex.

"Anything."

"That if I die in here you," she takes a breath, "you find the family you need."

"I promise, Spencer."

"I want to be a good sister." She truly does. Through everything she wants to try.

"I have no doubt."

"Melissa..we never. I miss her." she whispers, so softly, a guilt flooding her. "You deserve to know her and Jason and Ali. My parents and everyone…"

"You need to sleep." She whispers as she strokes Spencer's hair. "I'll be here."

She doesn't believe the words are true but ends up nodding off anyway, managing to grasp some sleep she's been missing. Not enough. Never enough. The sleep deprivation she'll blame the hallucination on when she wakes and she's all alone.

DAY THIRTY ONE

She gives up bothering to count the days or find herself in any normal state of mind. Normal is relative and she's never quite there when she's outside of the dollhouse. Exhaustion hits her in a wave where she's not even certain she knows what she's doing. Existing is a lot harder than she remembers it ever being. That and just how damn restless she feels all of the time. She spends so much of her time trying to keep herself from going insane, but it's the loneliness that she can't get rid of. She's actually hallucinating people to make it so she's not alone.

She'll do anything to not be alone.

Her mind focuses on Wren, Noel, and Alex. Pieces of the puzzle she's desperate to thread together but simply can't. They make no sense. Is it her own mind focusing on something she shouldn't or is there some twisted connection she doesn't understand? The scar on her arm from her time with Noel is very real, the stitches gone, leaving a mark behind that simply itches beyond belief. She hates that she doesn't know what it's from or that A actually stitched it up while she was unconscious.

She misses her parents. She wants to hear her mother's judgemental voice as she doesn't fit in the perfect Hastings mold. She wants to listen to her father dismiss any of her inquiries away by telling her to just let things go. She wants to sit awkwardly across from Alex as she doesn't know what to say. She wants Melissa to yell at her for something, anything. It doesn't matter. She wants to look at Jason as they fight harder than she and Melissa seem to do, both too much like her father for their own good. She just wants to not be alone and to figure out the answers to her family. None of which she can do while sitting that room and doing her best to not spend most of her time crying.

She's so sick of crying.

The loud voice comes through the speakers telling them to proceed to Ali's room for arrival. It's a different instruction she takes by surprise, grabbing the plaid cardigan on the chair, and putting it on. She doesn't have much interest to describe more than she has to. Internalizing it all seems a bad idea but with all of their trauma...she wants to deal alone. Alone is something she's used to. At least with them. She doesn't want to put anything more than she has to on them.

The first person she sees when she walks through the door is Aria. Her hair is shorter and has pink running through it like it had long ago. Things were so much simpler when Alison was there. Alison was awful sometimes but they weren't all kidnapped in a dollhouse. Maybe if they were better people back then it wouldn't even be happening, or maybe A is just some psycho. She doesn't like to put too much in fate, not like Wren does, but sometimes certain things just seem like fate.

She struggles to keep it together but knows she has to. If they are ever going to get out of there she has to keep it together. Her body aches in ways she never thought possible, and she just wants to sit and cry. She can't. She knows she can't. She's never been the strongest out of them, but she has to be. At least if she has something to focus her mind on she'll lose thinking about everything that has happened to her and her friends since they were arrested.

A relief floods through her at learning of Alison's murder conviction being overturned. She chooses to believe it's real. If she doesn't she will think of so many other horrid things her mind doesn't have the ability to grasp. A wants Ali there with them...after what is at least weeks of them being alone. They need to get out. Not to bring Ali in. Not that it looks good when she reads Alison denied police protection. It makes her vulnerable. Not that the police force is the best around, but it's something. She's sure her father and Jason will mean well in protecting her, but if they were able to be taken while in police custody...she doesn't have much hope for Alison's dad being able to protect her.

Upon going through some of the boxes she notices the C.D. carved into the wooden car. Charles DiLaurentis, especially if it's in Alison's things. There is no other explanation for it. This whole thing started because Ali went missing and she vaguely remembers how frustrated Melissa was during that summer. She finds it impossible to believe that everything they've been through since that summer is not connected, it has to be. Alison is the catalyst for why they were targeted but she still has so many unanswered questions about what happened that night with the rest of them.

When she finds her way back to her own room there's a box of things waiting for her on the bed. She's not really understanding how A is moving around and none of them are seemingly noticing. How Charles is moving around. If it is Charles. She decides not to go down that path again. Not when she is at an inner war with herself about who and what is doing this to them. So many pieces don't add up and they have never ended up since the whole thing started.

The box is filled with stuff she thought she lost forever ago paired with things she knows she had when she was still at home. A isn't with them all the time...instead breaking into their houses to make them more at home. A never wants them to leave. Something that makes her feel sick all over again, a feeling she has more often than not as of late. She manages to keep herself at bay before moving to find the others who are in Hanna's room.

She takes notice of Hanna instantly and sees how down she is about everything. They all are, really, but there's something in the way Hanna looks that worries her more than it does with Emily and Aria. She doesn't bother reading the article about her family when she sees the way Hanna is about to cry. She doesn't want to know what is going on with her parents or Melissa, not Jason, not...anyone. She can't keep playing the thoughts of what is happening over and over again. It's going to make her absolutely crazy.

The only solution is to get out of there.

They need to find Mona and get out.

She keeps track of the generator and since her stay manages to piece the layout together. There's a lot of time in which she's simply stuck in her room doing absolutely nothing. She counts the steps from room to room and repeats them over and over in her head until she remembers. She makes sure she remembers. The more details she can keep stored in her mind the more likely they are to find answers when they get out of their.

The night falls and she makes sure she has the drawing and the usb in her pocket before she opens Hanna's door to get her, making sure Emily and Aria are with her until they all make their way down to the room she is certain has some passageway. There have to be ways out. If A is able to move around so easily there needs to be secret ways to get out. None are in her own room. She's tried a million times over no matter she's being watched or not.

It's Emily who manages to find the passageway that leads them into the other room that is filled with all kinds of things that scream Charles DiLaurentis. Pictures. Toys. Plaques. The video on the projector is definitely Jessica, Alison, and Jason. She assumes the other little boy has to be Charles.

In an odd sort of way it all makes sense. The Hastings' and the DiLaurentis' never get along. Melissa hates Alison. Her dad hates the whole family and is never all that favorable towards Jason, his own son. Her mother doesn't like any of them either. She became close with both Alison and Jason, but neither of their parents were ever any two people she wanted to be alone in a room with. How Hanna, Aria, and Emily factor in she doesn't quite know, but just being there, in that room, looking at the film play it makes sense. It all makes sense.

She settles on A being Charles while thinking anyone else is simply helping him. She ignores the shiver that runs down her spine at this all being some guy and his weird obsession with four teenage girls and making them nothing more than his dolls.

"Game on, Charles." She bites out as she does the one thing she can think of.

It's not long before the room is starting to go up in flames. The only way for them to get out. It can very well kill them but she can't go back to her room to spend more endless nights where A is using her as his own little guinea pig. She feels sick all of the time. She doesn't sleep, she never sleeps. She's pumped full of drugs she can't even keep track of. She misses everyone and anyone. She can't tell what is reality and what is a hallucination anymore.

She needs to get out and if she dies in the process at least she tried, at least they all tried.

The fire alarm starts blaring and they search for Mona, finding her in a hole. She doesn't think about how long Mona has been down there when she grabs the rope and pulls Mona out. They don't have much time. Questions and answers later as she aids Mona and tries to get down the hall. There is a way out. They just need to find it.

It's Emily who locates the ladder that leads up. She uses all of her energy to get up as she trails Mona, making sure the poor girl doesn't fall down. It's not a normal way to live and they are all running on the very little energy they have left. Just enough to get them up and bust through the door.

There's no fence this time. Just the night air.

Freedom.