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People are so used to Audrey Jensen being the strong one that they seem to forget she can break.
Emma doesn’t forget. She grew up with Audrey; she knows all her mannerisms and all the signs that say something is wrong.
Except right now, two weeks after Kieran’s reveal, the signs aren’t just saying that something is wrong. They’re screaming it.
———
“Audrey, you have to eat.” It’s a cool February morning, just a few days before Valentine’s Day, and Kieran’s been in prison for fourteen days (Emma counts every one). His trial starts on March 30th; normally, things wouldn’t go so quickly, but with all of Lakewood watching (and the press), the judge decided to move things up a bit.
Emma likes to think they’re all trying to move on the best they can. Brooke has found a new distraction in Stavo, though whether that will turn out to develop into anything serious remains to be seen. Noah has thrown himself back into The Morgue, though Sheriff Acosta has already warned him he’s not to give any details of Kieran’s case until the trial is over, so his “special episode” will have to wait for a few months. They all attended Eli, Jake and Zoe’s funerals last week. It was the hardest thing Emma has ever done, to look in the eyes of their grieving parents and know that she was, in some way, responsible for their loss. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to go to another funeral for as long as she lives. School has started back up, having taken a two-day hiatus while the police searched Kieran’s locker and interviewed his classmates. Emma’s allowed herself to get wrapped up in it, pulling all-nighters for Psychology, spending afternoons at the coffee shop writing essays for AP World History. And they all seem to be doing fine, only two panic attacks between them so far (one on Noah’s part at Zoe’s funeral, when he’d seen her coffin; the other from Brooke, or at least according to Stavo, though Emma hadn’t been there to witness it).
Except Audrey. In fact, Audrey’s the least fine that Emma’s ever seen her. She barely eats; the skinny jeans that fit just two weeks ago are already loose on her hips. She doesn’t sleep; Emma sees the late-night “likes” on Instagram and the constant activity on Tumblr. She hardly even talks; Noah’s even commented on the “recent shortage of smart-ass remarks,” though Brooke had quickly given him a death glare for that one.
Emma’s scared for her. It doesn’t seem to bother Mr. Jensen, but considering he spends most of his days at the church, Emma doubts he’d even be able to pick his daughter out of a line-up. Audrey’s mother is still tucked away in Boston, undergoing the latest round of chemotherapy, but Emma is seriously debating calling her, because she’s not sure if she’ll be able to get through to Audrey. But she’s sure as hell gonna try first.
Right now, she’s waving a bowl of tomato soup (Audrey’s favorite on cold mornings like these) in front of her best friend’s face, having a minor heart attack over the fact that the girl doesn’t seem at all enticed by it. “Audrey, you have to eat,” she repeats.
“I’m not hungry,” Audrey mutters, eyes downcast and hair flopping into her face. She looks so small, hunched over her kitchen table, the harsh black of her sweatpants and band T-shirt standing out in vivid contrast to the paleness of her skin. And, oh, yeah, that’s another thing — Audrey doesn’t even take the time to really get dressed in the mornings. Emma understands a little bit — neither of them can look at a hoodie without flinching — but seeing as the other girl’s wardrobe mainly consisted of leather jackets and skinny jeans to begin with, it’s a tad disconcerting, how many sweatpants she’s come out with in the past two weeks.
“Yeah, you haven’t been ‘hungry’ since breakfast yesterday morning,” Emma snaps, words coming out more harshly than she’d intended. “You’re going to starve yourself to death if you only have one meal a day.”
Audrey doesn’t respond. Emma sighs and puts the bowl down, shoving it away from her so she doesn’t accidentally spill it on her white shirt (because the last thing she needs right now is to send herself into another vivid flashback). “Something is wrong, Auds,” she says softly, gently lacing her and Audrey’s fingers together. The girl’s skin is cool against her own, and it makes Emma’s chest tight with worry. “Please tell me what’s going on,” she begs. “If you need help, I can get you that, but you have to tell me first—”
Audrey’s head snaps up at that, and she jerks her hand away roughly, fingernails accidentally leaving red welts on Emma’s skin in their wake. She locks eyes with Emma, and Emma’s not sure whether to be relieved or terrified when she sees anger burning in them for the first time in weeks. “I don’t need help,” she hisses. “What I need is for you to leave me the hell alone.” Before Emma can stop her or even really fully process what’s going on, Audrey jumps up from the table, slings her backpack over her shoulder, and storms out.
Audrey’s car rumbles to life outside, and Emma’s left crying there.
———
She arrives at school a red-eyed mess, and Brooke and Noah immediately flank her, swarming her with questions of “What’s wrong?” and “Where’s Audrey?”. That only makes her burst into tears again, because apparently skipping school is going to be a thing for her best friend now, and she’s worried. Beyond worried. Frantic, actually.
Brooke drags them into the girls’ bathroom, Noah protesting loudly but Brooke clearing out the bathroom for them anyway, and Emma thinks how happy Audrey would be to see that he’s not being left out. They all crowd into a corner by the last stall while Emma recounts her fight with Audrey, Noah grimacing at the worst parts, Brooke squeezing Emma’s hand when she chokes up.
When Emma reaches the end of it, Noah whistles lowly, rocking back on his feet, and says, “Yeah, I’m definitely making her a doctor’s appointment. You get the honor of taking her, Emma.” Emma ignores the fact that Noah somehow knows who Audrey’s doctor is and turns to Brooke, who is picking at her manicure and biting her lip.
“God, I could tell that her outfits were not up to par, but I had no idea she was so… off-kilter,” Brooke whispers, a horrified expression twisting her pretty features. Emma sees her friend’s eyes shining and wraps her in a hug, the scent of white lily shampoo and Chanel Allure instantly filling her lungs.
“Don’t worry,” Emma murmurs. “We’ll figure it out.”
They linger in the hug for a moment before Brooke pulls away, wiping at her eyes, and laughs, “God, I should be comforting you. You’re the one who came in crying.”
“It’s okay,” Emma tells her. “We all need a little comforting sometimes.” Noah hums in agreement, and Brooke’s shoulders relax instantly, like all the weight’s been taken off of them.
“Well, now that we’ve got that settled, maybe we should figure out where Audrey is?” Noah suggests, pulling out his phone. “She just posted something on Instagram a few minutes ago, and I know that she always forgets to turn the location feature off, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find her…” He starts typing away on his screen, and it only takes a few moments before something dings on his phone and Noah’s face lights up.
“She’s at Wren Lake,” he says, and Emma’s grabbing her keys and running out the door in seconds.
———
Noah and Brooke promise they’ll vouch for her in Psych, but that still doesn’t keep Emma from speeding on the drive to Wren Lake. Her eyes keep glancing back to her center console, where her phone sits, Audrey’s Instagram picture displayed prominently on the screen. It’s not a particularly telling picture — just a random shot of the daffodil field — but it still makes Emma’s blood run cold. So much has happened for them there — Piper’s reveal, Noah’s burial and Zoe’s death, and a large portion of their shared childhood — and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried that Audrey might decide to do something stupid. Audrey’s tough, but even the toughest armor cracks eventually, and Emma has this strange, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that tells her Audrey’s finally cracked. Words from that morning’s fight keep running through her head — I don’t need help, what I need is for you to leave me the hell alone. The last time she heard Audrey sound that mad at her was four months ago, back in October, when she’d confessed to being in the parking lot with Nina and Riley when the video was filmed.
That anger had been understandable. Emma can’t quite comprehend why Audrey would be so furious at her for just wanting to help. Then again, maybe she can comprehend — she remembers the way she herself had pushed away her mother and anyone else who’d tried to help in her first few days at the rehab center, after the initial spree of killings. She’d been scared, not just of the images of Piper and Will that haunted her, but also of herself. The final showdown with Piper had proven to her that she had the capability to kill, to end the life of another human being, and scarily quickly at that. She’d been the one to fire the final shot, but Audrey was the first to send a bullet into Piper’s skin, so it’d make sense for her to feel the same way, Emma rationalizes. And with all the guilt hovering over her head about bringing Piper to Lakewood… Well, Audrey’s anger is starting to make a lot more sense. Because it’s not really anger; it’s fear.
Emma lets out a sigh of relief as she pulls up to the abandoned barn and sees Audrey’s car parked outside. She cuts off the car engine and walks out to the daffodil field as quietly as she can — she doesn’t want Audrey to hear her coming and run away. Shivers run down her spine as she tip-toes past the barn, memories of bloody pigs and empty coffins flashing through her mind. But then she spots a black T-shirt amongst the sunny yellow of the daffodils, and that’s enough motivation to keep her going.
As Emma gets closer, she can see that Audrey’s just sitting there, hugging her knees to her chest, phone abandoned by her side. She doesn’t appear to be looking at anything — she’s just staring into space — but she’s here and healthy (physically, anyway), so the tension in Emma’s chest eases a bit. Softly and cautiously, she pads over to Audrey, trying not to crush any more daffodils than absolutely necessary.
“Why are you here?” Audrey mutters, still staring at nothing as Emma sits down beside her. Strange parallels form in Emma’s mind; she remembers being five years old and laughing in this same spot with Audrey, the first time they’d ever met, their parents watching on in the background. She remembers biking here together at age ten, Audrey trying not to cry after one of Nina’s goons had stolen her backpack and dunked it in the toilet, and taking the other girl in her arms until the tears subsided. She remembers camping out here one night at thirteen, how they’d stayed up cooking hot dogs and eating s’mores till the marshmallows made their teeth ache, and late-night confessions of crushes, Emma blathering on about Will Belmont and Audrey saying nothing except, “You’re too good for him, Em.” That night in particular is always at the back of her mind, because that had been the night she first caught Audrey staring at her lips a little too long, and also the first night that she’d acknowledged she was okay with that. Funny to think that just a year after that, she’d let the scariness of her feelings for the other girl and the persuasiveness of Will’s charm pull her away, and Emma had almost lost her for good. And now, she fears, she might really lose her.
“Because I care about you, Audrey —” Emma starts. Audrey doesn’t let her finish.
“Oh, bullshit,” she drawls, tipping her head back to the sky like she’s without a care. “You and Brooke, you guys don’t care about me. That’s just survivor talk. We stick together because that’s all we know, but you’d leave me in a heartbeat if a repeat of freshman year happened.”
She knows it’s just Audrey’s trauma talking, but the words sting nevertheless, and Emma finds herself blinking back tears. “That’s not true,” she whispers. Audrey snorts, and Emma wonders how someone who’s just inches from her could feel a million miles away.
“Stop lying to yourself, Emma. After everything that’s happened, if we could rewind and make Nina, Riley, Will, and Jake all alive again, you’re telling me that you wouldn’t find it easier to ditch the psycho girl?” Audrey scoffs. “You may be naïve sometimes, but you’re not stupid.”
“Don’t talk like that, Auds. I wouldn’t do that to you—”
“And why should I believe you?” Audrey cuts her off.
“Because I love you!”
Emma hadn’t meant to shout it. She hadn’t even meant to say it. But now she has, and the words hang in the air around them precariously, thickening the air and making it hard to breathe. Audrey turns to her for the first time since her arrival, blue eyes wide with shock, and Emma’s just grateful to see some sort of emotion on her face. But her world feels like it’s dangling before her in this moment, like a single breath could push it over the edge and send everything tumbling, and Emma’s more than a little terrified. She thinks she might finally understand how Audrey felt back in freshman year.
Actually, though, her world isn’t dangling before her. It’s sitting right here, in this field of yellow daffodils, wearing a band T-shirt and black sweatpants and staring at her like she’s just snatched the stars away.
And then, her world’s suddenly hovering right in front of her, so close their noses are almost touching, and all the air goes out of her lungs as Audrey tilts her head and presses her lips to Emma’s. She tastes like strawberry, and Emma absent-mindedly wonders where that came from, but then all the thoughts quickly go out of her head as they’re all just replaced by Audrey, Audrey, Audrey and the delicious feel of Audrey’s mouth on hers.
Emma’s not sure who pulls away first, but after what feels like an eternity, they separate, both of them looking a little dazed and perhaps a little low on oxygen. “I love you too,” Audrey breathes, and Emma temporarily forgets what sadness feels like as the world shines in vibrant colors around her while her world gives her a small smile and grabs her hand.
———
Audrey’s kisses are everything, but even then they’re still not enough to make Emma forget why she came here. She lets them have a few minutes of peace, though, before she brings up the elephant (well, one of many, really) in the room.
“So, I know we just fought about it this morning, but I’m still really worried about you, Audrey,” she murmurs, head on her best friend’s shoulder. Audrey stiffens at this, but doesn’t push her away like she had this morning. “I know that you’re scared. I went through the same thing after Piper died. I blamed myself for everything, and I had this constant fear that I would just breathe the wrong way and kill everyone I had left. And I know that you blame yourself for Piper, but… It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
Audrey’s hand traces the length of her spine through her blouse before settling on the small of her back. “I guess I just have a lot of survivor’s guilt,” she says finally. “And I can’t sleep sometimes. I have nightmares…” She trails off, but Emma looks up at her, eyes encouraging her to continue.
“They’re always a little different, but the outcome is always the same,” Audrey explains. “It’s you, me, and Kieran. And I’m always yelling at you to run, but you stay. And Kieran kills you, right in front of me. Sometimes he makes it slow and painful, sometimes he does it quickly…” She closes her eyes, and Emma squeezes her hand in support. “But I always wake up screaming.”
“You don’t have to do that anymore,” Emma says softly. “Let me help you. Noah made an appointment, I’ll go with you, but please, go get checked out. You need to talk to someone, Audrey. So you can let go of all of that fear and guilt. Because you don’t deserve it. None of us do.”
They sit there in silence for a moment, and Emma’s scared for a second that Audrey will say no, but then she hears it, quiet and maybe a little shaky, but there. “Okay.”
———
Two days later, Audrey’s dangling her legs off an examination table, Emma sitting in the chair next to her and holding her hand tighter than ever. Noah got them a last-minute appointment after pleading with the receptionist for a good thirty minutes during their lunch break, and Emma’s never been so grateful to call him her friend. Brooke even swung by this morning and helped Audrey pick out an outfit, and though Emma’s pretty sure that a moto jacket could definitely be considered overkill for the doctor’s office, it’s been nice to see Brooke support Audrey so heavily. A year ago, Emma would’ve never imagined that the two could be such good friends, yet here they were.
“What if you find out something you don’t like? Something… ugly?” Audrey asks quietly, breaking the silence of the room.
“About you?” Emma’s flipping through a magazine with her other hand, but she stops for a moment to lock eyes with her sort-of-kinda-maybe girlfriend.
“Yeah. I mean, if I do end up going to therapy… Chances are you’re gonna find out about some stuff,” Audrey mutters, looking down at the floor.
“Hey. Audrey. Look at me,” Emma instructs, and Audrey obliges for once. It almost takes Emma’s breath away, to see those beautiful blue eyes and know that she’s looking in the eyes of someone who loves her. Someone who really loves her, not someone who’ll cheat with the hottest drunk girl they can find on a “break” or someone who’ll try to destroy everything she loves. “You don’t have to tell me anything, okay? Therapy sessions are private for a reason. And the doctor may not even recommend therapy.” Emma knows he likely will, but if saying that comforts Audrey for now, a little white lie can’t hurt.
“But I do want to tell you. Everything,” Audrey breathes. “You’re one of two people in my life who really gets me, Em. Noah’s great, but he wasn’t there at the dock…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, opting to trail off and stare at her socks, but Emma knows exactly what she means. Noah’s never killed anyone. He didn’t get spattered with the blood of someone he trusted. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have the choice to end a life or save a life. Aside from Emma, Noah’s probably the closest friend Audrey’s got, but Emma can understand why Audrey might not want to share some of the heavier stuff with him.
“You’re not going to scare me off, Audrey. Just because you have a darker side — and anyone who’s been through what we have would — that doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to stop loving you, or run away because I don’t think I can handle it,” Emma tells her. “You got me through so many panic attacks, so many sleepless nights. I probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Why wouldn’t I do the same for you?” Emma’s not sure what the implication of that is — probably I’d be back in rehab if it weren’t for you — and the words kind of just spill out of her mouth, but Audrey appreciates it for what it is and smiles gently at her.
“Thank you, Em. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers, and presses a kiss to Emma’s cheek.
———
Forty minutes later, the doctor has diagnosed Audrey with post-traumatic stress disorder and hands her a referral to a therapist as they walk out the door. Emma’s not surprised by the diagnosis; Audrey’s symptoms practically mirror some of the ones she displayed after Piper’s reveal, the reluctance to eat being the main difference. It’s concerning to hear that Audrey’s lost ten pounds in the past few weeks, but the doctor has recommended serving things in smaller portions and warned Audrey that if she continued to not eat, she would be forced to go to the hospital and receive intravenous therapy.
Emma drives them back to school, thankful that they’ve made it back just in time to avoid Psychology — they haven’t been able to enjoy the class since Ms. Lang essentially used it as a way to pick their brains, and it’s hard to resist the urge to self-diagnose sometimes. They don’t get out of the car for a few minutes, waiting for the initial crush of students to get to class before they dare to venture out. Audrey holds the therapist’s card in her hand as she steps out of the car, staring at it for a second before roughly shoving it in her back pocket.
“You okay?” Emma asks, waiting for Audrey to catch up before walking up to the school building.
“Yeah. I just… I can’t believe that this is where I am now.”
The words sound a little shaky, and Emma immediately whips around and guides Audrey over to a bench, sitting them both down to take a second. “What do you mean?” she says softly.
“It’s just, this time last year, I hated you, you hated me, and Rachel and Noah were the best things in my life. And now we’re here, and I love you, and you say you love me, and you and Noah and Brooke, of all people, are the best things in my life,” Audrey murmurs. “Last year, I’d never even killed someone in Call of Duty. And now I’ve killed Piper, and touched more dead bodies than I’d care to admit, and Rachel’s dead. And I just… I never pictured anything turning out like this.”
“In a good way, or a bad way?” Emma asks gently. There’s a strand of hair that’s flopped into Audrey’s face, and she carefully tucks it behind the girl’s ear, smiling when Audrey seems to relax under her touch.
“Both. Rachel dying was the worst thing I’ve ever been through,” Audrey admits. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for lying to Brooke about Jake, or not telling you about Piper… But at the same time, having you back in my life is better than I’d ever dreamed it could be.”
“I’m sorry that I was ever stupid enough to be out of it,” Emma says lightly, but Audrey’s brow furrows.
“No, I’m serious. Being your friend again… I can’t thank you enough for it. I mean, you literally saved my life two weeks ago,” Audrey insists. So we’re friends? Are we just going to ignore what happened in the daffodil field? Then again, I did ignore what happened at the barn, what with everything that was going on with Kieran…
Emma’s lost herself in thought, and Audrey can tell. She brushes her hand against Emma’s, and it’s a comforting gesture that also manages to send a jolt of electricity through Emma’s skin. “What’s eating you?” Audrey questions. “You just got that space-y look, you know the one.”
Emma bites her lip, wondering if it’s okay for her to say this, but decides to go for it anyway. “It’s just… What are we? Two days ago, you said you loved me, and I told you I loved you back. We… kissed. But now you just called us friends, and I don’t know what we are.”
“Whoa, whoa, back up,” Audrey says slowly. “I do love you, that’s true. We did kiss — that’s also true. And I’m going to take you at your word when you say you love me, too. But I didn’t think we were in any rush to define our relationship. I mean, you just found out your boyfriend was a serial killer sleeping with your half-sister two weeks ago, Em. I would understand if you didn’t want to rush into anything.”
Instead of a response, Emma leans over and gives her a kiss, allowing it to linger for a few seconds before pulling back and whispering, “I want to go on a date with you, and I want to be able to tell the whole world that you’re my girlfriend and I love you. Does that give you your definition?”
“Well, it’s certainly not Merriam Webster-quality, but—” Audrey stammers, but Emma just laughs and cuts her off with another kiss.
She’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna be okay. And in this moment, that’s all that matters.