Just friends - Hannily/Hemily fanfic

31 - Alone and Tree Houses

Alison pov

Emily had to go to school. Monday's sucked, because it meant I was alone in the Fields' house, with nothing to do. I took my key, the one Emily had given to me, and locked the door behind me. I shoved my hands into my pockets, and carefully made my way to Jason's house. The sunglasses helped mask my eyes, as did the make up. My hair was in a cap, which meant nobody would recognise me. They'd long given up hope, and had stopped looking out for me. I'd seen the posters, flying away in the breeze, stuck up less and less.

Finally, I arrived at the familiar door. I knocked, hoping he was in. Wouldn't want to waste getting caught for nothing. I heard somebody grunt from around the side, and walked around to find Jason carrying logs on his shoulder. His hair waa tied back, and he was sweating through the grey t-shirt that hung tightly to his muscular body. I could tell he had been working out here since early this morning.

"Jason?" I called, and he spun around to face me.

"Ali? Get inside, now! There's people out here!" He warned, his voice taking on that husky tone of urgency. I nodded, and walked up to the back door. I let myself in, and stood awkwardly in the kitchen. After a few minutes, Jason came in, removing his gloves.

"What are you doing here? You usually come at night." He said, placing the gloves on the kitchen counter.

"Maybe I got bored in the house all on my own." I said nonchalantly, taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

"Well maybe you should inform the whole town that you're here, so you can go back to school with the powerpuff girls." He sounded irritated, as he poured himself a drink.

"So it's back to the way it was before I left? A load of hate? What happened to you and Aria? Or you and Spencer?" I asked, hating myself for bringing up the moments he truly believed I was gone, and had gotten close to my friends in the hopes they could tell him something and rid him of the guilt.

"Aria has a boyfriend, and my dad decided to ban me from seeing Spencer." He answered quickly, and then tried to leave. I followed him out to the garden, and then he sat down on the back steps. The garden was hidden from everybody else by tall hedges and trees, so it may well have been just us.

"Peter. His name is Peter. And even if he's your da-"

"He is. He showed me the birth cirtificate and everything. Can't argue with evidence." He sounded defeated, so I sat beside him.

"Even though he is your father, it doesn't change a thing. You're over 18. It doesn't matter. And you're still my brother." I reminded him. He leaned across, resting his head on my shoulder. We looked out across the garden, and I spotted something in the largest, sturdiest tree.

"Is that our old tree house?" I strained to get a better view. Jason chuckled, nodding. He moved his head from off my shoulder, playing with his hands.

"I never took it down. It reminded me of you. And us, as kids. We used to spend hours in there. Until..." He trailed off, memories flooding through his mind as they were through mine.

"You used it as your drug dealing place." I smirked, and he playfully slapped my arm.

"It's not changed. I went up there, after you....you know. It's still got our toys and our things in it." We sat there, looking at the tree house when suddenly, he got to his feet. "Wanna go check it out?" I nodded, standing up. He offered his hand, and helped me get up. We walked down the garden to the tree, and found the old ladder my father had built into the trunk of the tree. I began climbing, then remembered that further to the top, you had to use the branches of the tree to get up.

I pulled myself on to the balcony part of the tree house, and held on to the thick rope my dad had wrapped around the side. When we were younger, Jason nearly fell out. My dad then secured it with rope around the sides, making it that bit more safer.

Jason pulled himself into the tree, effortlesly, and stood beside me. We walked in through the open gap, and found it to be the same. Same lamps fixed on to the wall, same bean bag in the corner. The TV and DVD player my dad had fixed us up with. Same rugs on the wooden floor. Same pictures my mum had hung up on the walls. Same initials carved into the wood. Same glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling. Same everything.

And the same look on Jason's face as he raced me to the air hockey table, and we began to play. Just like old times. Just like when we were kids. Before the evil of reality came to steal away our innocence, and the cruelness of society made us hide ourselves away.

And I couldn't be happier.