This is the first time I've written this much in a while. It's the first time I've written anything for Pretty Little Liars in a while. I've been very nervous about posting this.

My writing style is my own, and I know you guys will think there's some grammatical errors in here- there is- but this isn't meant to be published as a novel. This is how I write.

This is going to be a two-shot. Maybe a three-shot. I'm going with the flow on this fic, so if you have any suggestions, please feel free to comment with your thoughts, as reviews are very much appreciated.

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, the show is not mine. All mistakes are my own.

Horror.

That's the first thing you feel when you see the body fall to the floor in a heap. There's no sign of movement from what you can see. It's just a head full of blonde curls and a red hood. The sleeve you ripped off from her coat is tightened into a ball as your hand squeezes shut. You let it fall, landing right beside her arm.

You can't breathe, can't move a muscle. Hardly daring to believe what just happened. But Emily and Hanna's screams bring you back to life, and you let out a soft whimper as you race down the stairs in a suddenly hurried and petrified way.

The girl's body is still there; nothing's changed.

Nothing is real.

What have you done?

Leaning against a crate, you're trembling and trying not to cry. You don't deserve to cry, you tell yourself. You need to be strong. One more thing piled on the list of crazy things you and your friends have been through in the last few years shouldn't justify one, single, tiny tear.

But then Spencer arrives, in all her beauty and passion and ferocity. Relief creeps into your numb mind, knowing the tall brunette will make everything okay- she always does. You feel Spencer's gaze flick from the dead body towards you, but you don't dare look up, slightly fearful of what you might see. You know you haven't done anything wrong, but there's a part of you that fears that she'll be disgusted with what you did. As she should be, you coldly remind yourself.

Two strong yet soft, tender, feminine arms wrap themselves around you, however, and you feel a chin rest itself on your shoulder. Her breathing is close to your ear, and you have to remind yourself to swallow, because it's just Spencer.

But it's Spencer, and you feel safe with her.

"It's okay," she whispers, and you close your eyes, allowing the first tears to fall. Feeling her cheek against yours, smelling the scent of her hair- vanilla and lavender, you allow yourself to be broken because it's Spencer.

Emily and Hanna dart over, trying to comfort you and reassure you that it wasn't your fault, that the girl had tried attacking you and you were defending yourself. But you're hardly listening, too content on feeling a certain brunette's left hand stroking your arm as a way to comfort you.

It's not your fault, they try to tell you, and you try to tell yourself. Instead, you blurt out that you all should call the police.

But when you look over to where the body should be, it's gone.

She's gone, and you're left feeling angry and confused and upset. You were beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, it was finally over. But she's disappeared, and you just want it to end; all of it.

You're tired of A, of the threatening messages, of the torn up families, of the lost loved ones, of the danger you're constantly put in. It makes you angry that now it's just one more thing you and your friends have to figure out.

Even though you know A hadn't targeted you as nearly as much as she- or he?- has with the other girls, you feel angry and hopeless because you want your friends to be safe and you want to be safe.

You feel the sudden urge to kill. It scares you that that idea doesn't scare you in the slightest. But you're tired of always being paranoid and in danger and unhappy. You want to be happy, mostly.

When was the last time you smiled?

When was the last time you were truly happy? It feels like ages ago.

These thoughts run through your head as Spencer walks you over toward the entrance of the building, without you even realizing it.

"Spence, I-I need to stay with you."

It doesn't mean to come out, but it does, and you realize how desperately you want to be with Spencer right now. You can't go back home, where you're all alone while your dad teaches, and Mike's at a friend's house. You need to be somewhere safe, somewhere where you're with someone you can hold on to for dear life.

Spencer doesn't even hesitate when she responds with a nod. "Yeah, definitely."

...

You're at her house before you even realize it, standing in her living room, unable to move or think. A breath you didn't realize you've been holding in escapes your lips and suddenly you want to start crying again. Spencer must notice how your eyes start to water again, because she's suddenly wrapping you in a protective, warm embrace that you never want to end.

"Hey, hey," she breathes quietly, trying to comfort you.

Suddenly you realize how foolish you're being. Reluctantly, you step back from her, and you wipe your eyes. "I shouldn't even be crying. I'm being selfish," you rasp.

Spencer frowns. "What do you mean? Of course you can cry; that doesn't make you selfish."

"I just..." you trail off, wondering if she'd understand why you feel selfish. You take a deep breath before continuing. "Nothing's ever happened to me like it has to you, Em, and Hanna. I feel guilty for getting this upset over... over nothing."

"That's not nothing, Aria," the brunette points out, quietly.

You fiddle with your hands and tug at your bracelets securely fastened on your wrist, trying to figure out a way to tell her that you just want to be brave like they are, but you're tiny and you're weak and you almost killed someone, and you hate yourself.

"Aria," Spencer says, her soft gaze on you, breaking you out of your thoughts. "What we're all going through... at some point, we all need a good cry. Maybe you haven't been almost killed by a car or almost suffocated in a barn, or even almost pushed off the bell tower. But you've been through this with all of us; you've been the strongest person in the group." The tall brunette lets out a tiny, amused laugh before continuing. "I think it's our turn to help you."

That causes you to break, and fall into her arms.

...

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting, gasping heavily, trying to bring life back into your lungs. The dream is still there, in the back of your mind; faded, but you can still recall something. The jackets in the closet in A's lair. Something about them had made you question something, digging deep into your brain because you had felt like you recognized those coats. Not the coats, per say, but the structure of them; the size, the fabric. They had felt too eerily familiar to you.

A sudden shiver goes through your body, and you tense up. You're spooked. Terrified. You can't answer why, but some part of you feels that what you're looking for is something that can reach out and touch you.

Someone. Someone you're close to.

The jackets.

Spencer is sleeping soundly next to you, and you breathe out a small sigh of relief and comfort. But the thoughts are still there, dancing around in your mind, unable to leave even while staring at your beautiful best friend.

You need to go back, to see A's lair again. To look at those jackets and see for yourself, because you know something isn't right. Something had never added up from the beginning; even when Mona confessed to being A, you subconsciously knew that wasn't the whole story.

It's been lodged in the back of your mind for years.

You know it's stupid of you to go out now, in the middle of the night by yourself. But you can't wait till morning, and you can't wake Spencer up or tell your friends because you don't know how they'll react. You can't even trust your own judgement, who's to know how any of them would respond?

You slip on your coat and a pair of boots, not willing to waste any time getting dressed in more practical clothes, and you silently head out the front door, hoping and praying Spencer is still asleep.

Ravenswood is a lot more creepy at night than it is during the day. There are no lights to guide you through. The sky is pitch black with clouds and no stars. The buildings and townhouses look like haunted houses with their dark shadows and crumbling wood. Not one car drives by, not one person glides by. It's completely silent.

You park by the building Spencer had found A's lair in, and you slam the car door shut, the sound much too loud for your liking. It's a bit hard to see where you are going without any lights- you stupidly forgot to bring any- but you manage to get in the building just fine, noticing a light creeping from up the stairs.

Suddenly, you're extremely nervous, and you want to slap yourself for being so stupid. This was a mistake, you should've known.

But your curiosity gets the better of you. Maybe, just maybe, seeing whoever is in the room can answer some of your questions. It's a huge risk, but it's one you're willing to take for your friends.

The stairs creak as you try to silently and steadily make your way up the stairs. Your breathing becomes more shallow as your heart increases speed from the increasing fear and adrenaline pumping through your body. You reach the top step, letting out a low breath, hardly daring to believe the person in A's lair hasn't heard the noise.

When you look up, however, you are face-to-face with one Ezra Fitz.

...

"Aria?" It's a shocked whisper. You tremble, shaking your head.

"W-what're you doing here, Ezra?"

You don't want to believe it. It's not true, it's not.

"I-"

But you turn and leave before he can reach out and touch you, before he can admit the truth. You already know what he's going to say.

You never knew this man at all.

He's been behind the whole thing, and you are the one who fell the deepest in his trap without you realizing it until now.

...

Somehow, subconsciously, you've drive back from Ravenswood to Rosewood, car idly parked by her house.

Spencer.

You have to tell her, but you're too scared.

Will Ezra go to jail? Yes. Will Ezra ever want to talk to after this? No. But he's haunted your friends for years, and he's played you like a puppet, and you need to do this. You can't think about all the dinners at his apartment you've had, or all the adrenaline you got from sneaking around.

It's late, too late to be at Spencer's house, you know. But you choke back a sob and ring the doorbell anyway.

Your best friend opens the door, looking extremely exhausted and annoyed at being interrupted from sleeping.

"Ye-" She stops when she see it's you, trembling and shivering, trying not to cry.

"Aria?" Spencer breathes out your name in a suddenly worried voice. "What's the matter, sweetie?" You shake your head, unable to form the words and release them from your mouth just yet. The girl sighs in concern and grabs you by the arm, dragging you inside.

You can't stop shaking. You suddenly can't think, can't move, can't breathe.

It's all been a lie.

It feels like your entire life is a lie. But you glance at Spencer, and you remind yourself that you've still got her, and you can still trust her with your life.

It's time for you to breathe, you remind yourself, and you allow cold air to rush back into your body. A tiny sob manages to escape your throat.

"Aria," Spencer murmurs your name like a lullaby, and it's soothing. "What's going on?"

You shake your head. "C-can't..."

She steps toward you, wrapping you in one of her delicious, warm hugs that you always crave so dearly. Her hand rubs circles around your back, her face inches from yours. You try to formulate words again, but instead another, louder sob interrupts you.

"Shh," the taller girl whispers in the shell of your ear. "It's okay, Aria. I'm right here. I've got you. Shh."

She moves to the couch, and, refusing to let go, you are dragged with her until you both land awkwardly. She continuously murmurs and whispers your name and soothing nothings to you, and you slow begin to relax, feeling at peace again.

"S-Spence," you finally manage to mumble out.

"Hey, hey. Aria, it's okay. Shh."

You need to tell her now. Suddenly Ezra doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters except the girl holding you in her arms. It doesn't matter at all.

"I-I know who A is," you manage to squeak out at last after a few moments of restful silence. You half expect Spencer to immediately pounce on you, questioning who it is. But the girl remains silent, playing with a strand of your hair, patiently waiting for you to continue and you're so grateful you have her in your life.

You swallow before you speak again, lowering your voice to a whisper. "It's... it's Ezra, Spence." The fingers playing with your hair halt, and you dare not move or breathe.

"Ezra?" Spencer repeats the name, and suddenly you hate it.

"Ezra," you confirm, slightly nodding your head.

Spencer's quiet for a while, and you're suddenly scared. Terrified. What if she blames you? What if she gets angry with you for not realizing it sooner, for not noticing the tiny signs that Ezra could've given away hinting toward his alter ego? What if she hates you for... for...

"Please don't hate me." The plea escapes your lips before you have a chance to stop it.

Spencer seems to snap out of her daze. "I could never hate you," she rumbles. She leans forward and presses her soft lips to your forehead, and you close your eyes. "It's not your fault, Aria."

"I feel like it is. I should've known sooner. Should've seen the signs."

"I don't want you blaming yourself. You couldn't have known, sweetheart." The term of endearment makes you relax and fall deeper in the brunette's strong arms. You let out a long, shaky breath full of relief and tension draining away.

But then you remember.

"He knows that I know, Spence."

"Wait, what?"

You let out a soft, almost reluctant, sigh. "He saw me. I was... I had a nightmare. I went to see the lair, to confirm something that had been in the back of my mind since we first went in that room. Y'know how sometimes you see something, and it's just like... like déjà vu? Only it's not? It's more like a feeling, like it's something familiar. A-anyways, I was stupid. I decided to go alone. I managed to get there and I saw that the light to the room was on, and instead of leaving, I figured I should get a quick peek at whoever was in the room. I went up the stairs, and I-I guess he must've heard me, because the next thing I knew, we were face-to-face, a-and I..." You can't bare to continue, the tears forming back in your eyes.

Spencer holds you close, and you hardly dare to breathe, taking in her scent and her warmth and all of her. You're still admittedly surprised she hasn't hounded you with questions and an explanation for what you were thinking, for being so foolish, so careless.

No. She's been patient with you. She's been so nurturing and kind and understanding. Which makes you want to cry even harder because you don't deserve this.

You don't deserve her friendship.

You don't deserve her.

She presses her lips to your forehead, and you're suddenly very drowsy and exhausted and you could sleep here in her arms forever. Your breathing is still shaky, tears drying up on your cheeks. She kisses them away. She peppers kisses up and down your face-avoiding your mouth- and you feel warm and fuzzy and you never want her to stop. Never, ever.

A sudden urge. You want to reach up and kiss her. Her lips connected to yours. But you refuse, because she has Toby, and she isn't interested in you that way.

And you don't deserve her.