ANIKA SAID SHE got back right after Quinn did.

Paired with that was the throwaway mention that she'd gone to bed after arriving,  complaining of a headache and bidding everyone goodnight.  They've done a surprisingly good job at keeping Quinn away from everything but the suspicions of it all,  and while Ellie can't help but mistrust the supposed roommate luck she'd be graced with,  that doesn't mean she wants what she just saw to be reality.

"QUINN!"  Ellie shouts,  throwing her body weight against the door hard enough to knock it open.  Tara is on her heels despite how she wishes she'd stay further behind,  hand pressing against Ellie's back in either fear or urgency for her to move quicker.

She's picking the latter.

Her feet nearly get in her own way as Ellie bolts for Quinn's bedroom door.  The entire apartment seems to have escalated from a hesitant calm to rabid panic in under a minute,  the yells from the living room feeling both distant and locked inside her head.  Ellie slams against the bedroom door once,  twice,  three times before it flies open and Quinn stumbles out.

No.  No,  Ellie realizes in an instant.  She's not stumbling out.

Despite herself the scream she lets out is ear-piercing,  collapsing under the force of Quinn's dead weight.  Sam and Tara's roommate,  a potential friend,  a shaky ally,  overall a sweet seeming girl,  has become a knife block of a corpse.

It's like the world stands still for one breath.

Then all hell breaks loose.

Ghostface stands in the doorway of Quinn's room.  Ellie can feel the blood drain from her face before she realizes who stands on her opposite side,  trapped between the bedroom and Quinn's corpse.

Tara.

She realizes it the moment Ghostface does.  Her shaking limbs are suddenly filled with adrenaline as she throws Quinn off her,  knocking her towards the living room before she's kicking herself into gear.

"STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!"   Ellie screams,  the demand almost guttural as she rears her legs back,  slamming her feet into the knees of their attacker before rolling into an upright position.  Sam is behind her the moment she's up,  grabbing for Tara while Ellie forces herself to her feet.  She's gotta keep going.  Slowing down now will get her gutted,  or worse,  make her family and friends easier targets.

The mental reminder sends Ellie head whipping.  Into the living room she practically throws herself,  shoving Abi the rest of the way out before a vase is hurtled at her head.  Another shriek hits the air as Ellie drops to her knees,  scrambling away from the door as it slams shut.  She's gotta evaluate the room.  She's gotta know who to help.  She's gotta get her fucking shit together and stop panicking despite being locked in an apartment with a corpse and a serial killer.

At least one of those is significantly more urgent than the other.

Her eyes can barely survey the room.  Sam.  Mindy.  Anika-

The knife pins down her leg.

Ellie screams again,  a wild,  desperate sound that feels like it'll draw blood as she twists around.  Right around her ankle burns like a motherfucker and she doesn't have to look to know she's bleeding.  One hand grasps blindly for her hip,  groping for the gun she knows she has before the knife swings down again.

She's not gonna fucking make it.  She's not gonna fucking make it out this time.

The knife is in motion before a loud battle cry breaks the focus.  Ellie's eyes dart to where Ghostface has now redirected his attention,  scrambling backwards until she can push herself to her feet.  Her balance is unsteady,  pain dotting her vision as she tries to force her ankle to remember that now's not the time.  She has to be brave.  She has to be alert.  She has to be part of the team because otherwise no one is getting out of this alive,  especially not-

Anika.

Anika,  one of her best friends,   one of her most beloved people,  someone who never deserved to be a part of this,  is wielding a pen like a sword.

"Get the fuck off of her!"  She yells.  The warble to her tone is probably unintentional yet chills Ellie to the bone anyway,  her panicked wheezes all she can hear as she seems to watch what happens next in slow motion.

Ghostface whirls around,  pins Anika down.

The knife sinks into her stomach.

Ellie doesn't know who screams louder- her,  Anika,  or Mindy.

With one gloved hand Ghostface reaches down,  grasping Anika around the throat before lifting her in the air and pinning her to the mantle.

Ellie breaks from her pain-induced trance then,  fear pulsating through her veins as she tries tries tries to get to Anika,  tries to slam into the side of her potential killer.  Collides only to be tossed aside like a ragdoll.

Her head smacks against the ground with a loud bang.   Hands are on her,  two hands she knows and trusts and they're Buffy's,  they are,  because she knows the voice trying to keep her alert despite how her brain is trying so so so hard to swim now. 

She can't break now.

"That's it!   That's it Els just stay awake.  Stay awake please please please."   Buffy begs,  voice pitching as she already seems to redirect her attention.  Ellie is barely pulled up before she's following her gaze and finds what Buffy sees.

The knife is tearing through Anika's stomach.

"NO!"  Ellie screams,  this rough,  raw sound that feels primal rather than desperate.   Her head still swims and she can't see past her fury or rage or immediate grief that feels ancient and brand new all at once,  like a goddamn nightmare she can't wake up from.  One she's never been able to pull herself from.

She still can't pull herself to her feet.

Buffy's holding her,  she realizes distantly.   She's holding her down.  Her arms are tight around Ellie's waist even as she begins to bawl.  She's keeping her in place because apparently she knows her a little too well.

It's what summers of cherries staining like blood on fingertips leaves them,  Ellie supposes.

From the kitchen Sam rushes in,  slamming the knife block into Ghostface's head as though it serves as a makeshift weapon. 

Ellie will take anything,  really.

The flash of blonde is what throws her.   In unison with Sam being forced away is a streak of dirty blonde hair and pink,  arms folded back like a makeshift shield around their collapsing ranks.

"Mom!"  Buffy calls,  voice breaking on the word.  "Momma!  Mom!"

Ellie's shoving Buffy's hands aside in a heartbeat then.  She has to get the attention off Julie.   Buffy can't watch her mother die.

For a moment she's two places at once.  She's here,  now,  soaked in blood and stumbling to pull Julie away from the killer,  trying to keep everyone together despite several of them already being gone.

She's back to last year.  She's in the hospital hallway.   She's feeling that knife sink into her over and over,  feeling it pierce just below her chest,  tasting iron,  hearing the screams of Dad and auntie Abi before her aunt is making herself a human shield,  before Dad is knifed trying to protect them,  before the three of them are lying in a massive puddle of shared blood that stained Ellie's vision with murderous rage soon thereafter.  Her worst fucking nightmare came true in that moment.

She can't let that happen to Buffy.

Her hands grab onto that black cloak before Julie can stop her.  Nails sink into fabric and on a whim Ellie whips Ghostface from her path,  sending him staggering briefly before his next target comes into view.

Mindy.

"MINDY-"

"MINDY!"

Buffy's cry is louder than Sam's.  Ellie can't move quick enough to pull attention away once again,  the sound escaping her being that of a desperate whine as she lunges forward.  Buffy won't admit it aloud,  but she's equally self-sacrificial.   She would never let Mindy get hurt if she could stop it.

Like she knew it would,  the knife sinks into Buffy's shoulder rather than it's intended target.

The scream she lets out chills Ellie to the bone.  Her hands finally catch up to the urgency and grasp blindly for her gun, pulling it from its holster before Ellie does the one thing she can do with chaos unfolding.

The butt of the gun snaps across the back of Ghostface's head.

The force is enough to send their attacker reeling.  It's a free space of time that Ellie uses to rush towards Buffy,  ducking under her injured arm before pursuing Sam towards the short hallway this apartment space allows.  She can hear Mindy and Anika behind her,  can hear Julie urging them ahead,  can hear Ghostface slamming down the television in the living room like a horrible precursor for what's to come while they make their way into Quinn's bedroom. 

Their safest bet is a room covered in blood and the residence of a Detective's now-murdered daughter.  If Ellie weren't living this,  she might be able to laugh.

"In!  In!  In!"  Sam urges when the group surges forward,  barely giving Juliette time to get through before she's slamming the door.

Her timing is insane luck,  Ellie absently notes.  This is primarily because Ghostface arrives in time to get four gloved fingers crushed between the doorway and the door-  a small,  oddly human pain that feels grounding for all of two seconds.

Then she's setting Buffy on the bed right next to Anika.

"Ellsie,"  Anika groans,  curled over her stomach in a way that can't be helping her condition.  "Ellsie,  'm no'  gonna make it."

"Don't.  Don't say that,  Nini."   Ellie can hear the tears in her voice and silently scolds herself,  knowing that can't be helping in the slightest.   "Don't say that,  please don't say that.   You're gonna be just fine.   You're gonna be fine-  aunt Jules,  she's gonna be fine,  right?"

Julie's silence is one Ellie decides to blame upon her being occupied with helping Mindy hold the door shut.

It doesn't take 20/20 vision to see how much blood Anika is losing.   The world is back to practically screaming in her ears while she takes a seat between two of her three sisters,  two of her closest friends,  two people who have always been there for her and she can't let them down now.

"Buffy,"  she tries instead,  redirecting because she's spiralling and knows it.   "Buffy,  are you okay?"

"I'm sorry,  Els-"

"Don't apologize."

"'m sorry,"  Buffy says instead of listening.   "I'm sorry.  I'm not mad anymore.  Swear I'm not mad.  Swear I'm not,  don't- if we die-"

"You're not gonna die!"  Ellie interjects,  the intensity behind her tone fading in favor of a fierce,  terrified promise.   Buffy won't die.  It doesn't matter that they fought.  It doesn't matter that it hurt.  None of that matters now,  not when it's turned into something like this.   "Don't talk like that,  Fi.   Please."

“It's my second movie,”  Buffy groans.   “Comedic relief’s gotta be-”

“I am literally begging you to stop!”  Her resolve crumbles in favor of the tears building in her throat, uninjured leg beginning to bounce.  She's sitting here on a dead girl's bed,  covered in a dead girl's blood- not for the first time,  probably not the last-  between two girls who believe they are dying despite how Ellie will not let them die,  thank you very much, and she's freaking the fuck out.  She cannot be freaking the fuck out right now.

The banging on the door only grows in strength.  The shriek Julie lets out as it knocks the dresser they've used to barricade against her hip makes Ellie jump in place,  far too distracted to know where Sam is or what she's doing until she's speaking up.

“We have to go!”

No shit,  Sherlock,  Ellie thinks,  thankful that her inner reprimanding system can act quickly enough to keep her snarkiness quiet.  Of course they have to go.  They won't survive if they do.  If Ellie takes a shot now then everyone is at risk.  There's only one problem:  there's only one way out.

It dawns upon her the moment it seems to hit the rest of their group of people with severely unfortunate luck,  head swiveling to catch sight of what Sam actually means.  There's no way anyone would actually be insane enough to go out the window.  That's a death wish.  Almost a bigger one than staying here.

“No!”  She says,  unable to stop herself once she catches sight of the ladder.

“Hell no!”  Anika chimes in.  Ellie wants to say she appreciates the backup,  but Anika seriously doesn't need to be wasting her oxygen at the moment.

“We have to!”

Sam,  for her part,  doesn't look any more eager than Ellie feels.  She can't imagine that it's enjoyable,  being the ringleader of an idea that's positively insane but apparently the last option before everyone winds up chopped to bits.  Her heart spares some shocked terror in favor of sympathy.

There's a look of grim resolution on Sam's features as they all seem to come to a shared realization,  the pounding on the door only growing more intense by the second.  They have to.  It's that or challenge the beast behind a mask.

Like it's an easy decision Juliette breaks away from the dresser against the door.  She's fast,  even with the nerve damage Ellie-Marie knows still causes her problems.  Neither she nor Buffy can speak before she's barking out instructions in a way Ellie has never heard.

“Whoever goes first is testing the stability of the ladder,”  Julie establishes.  Her voice is shaking.   “I’m going first.  If something happens-”

“Mom!”  Buffy cuts off,  looking up from where she'd curled over her lap.  Ellie doesn't know who to help right now,  doesn't know how quickly she can get Buffy across the ladder,  doesn't know how she'll even manage Anika.  Comforting her sister is yet another thing Ellie cannot do.

In the back of her mind it's a bitter satisfaction for the one who hates Ellie most.

“I'm going first.”  Juliette repeats,  and before any of them can interfere she's climbing out.

Buffy is on her feet the same time Ellie is.  As much as she wants to shield her sister from the potential horror movie scene that could unfold from this, Ellie's head is still pounding and her ankle still burns with each move she makes.  If she wants to get across this soon,  she has to pick her battles.

As someone who has fought to ensure her parents’ safety before,  she knows it's not one she wants to pick.

Still she keeps one arm around Buffy, holding her away from the window as much as she can.  Her breath feels lodged in her throat with each unsteady move her aunt makes.  Every second feels like a decade dragging by.

Buffy's trembling.  Anika's whimpering.  Mindy is fighting against the door.  Sam is tense in her silence.

Ellie wants to cry.

When Juliette is finally pulled through the opposite window by Danny,  she can't help the few tears of relief that slip out.  Each bang against the door feels like a step closer to death.  Each cry of desperation Mindy lets out makes her heart sink.  Every second that Buffy and Anika aren't safe feels like failure.

“Ellie,”  Sam says.   “Your turn.  Go."

“No.”

Ellie doesn't know she's going to deny it until she is.  She's still held against Buffy, protecting her the way she's always tried to despite the danger waving the knife through the door.  She's wobbling on her ankle and her head is light and she can't think straight but she knows,  she knows she can't go now.

“Ellie-”

“Tara needs you.”

The three words are the strongest trigger she and Sam share.  Her chin is quivering while she tries to stand strong, willing herself against that fear inside her.   “You have to go,  Sam.  For her.”

Sam pauses, glancing from the window back to the door as though rationalizing how useless this argument is.  Ellie doesn't know how much longer she can stand here.

She does the one thing she's always hesitant to do.

“Sam,  MOVE!”  Her voice comes out as more of a yell now,  authoritative rather than pleading.  It's enough to snap Sam from her contemplation and climb into the window, throwing a final glance behind her.  Ellie moves forward,  unhooking one arm from Buffy to place her hands on the end of the ladder.  “I've got you.  It'll hold up,  I promise.”

She'd like to think she can keep that promise.

A particularly hard slam against the door makes Ellie fight back a whimper, trying hard to not jolt.  Sam's halfway across now, moving agonizingly slow in a way Ellie is almost grateful for.  Tara can't lose her sister.  As much as they argue, they need each other.

When Sam gets through Danny's window Ellie exhales a sigh of relief,  turning back to now face Buffy.  “Your turn.”

“No.”

That's not what she was expecting.  She should have been,  considering Buffy is Buffy,  but she still recoils in shock.   “I'm not going until I know you're okay!”

“Yes you are!”  Buffy shoots back.  Before Ellie can pick up her own side of the argument Buffy's hands are on her shoulders,  eyes frantic.   “Yes you are.  You gotta go,  Els.”

“Not without you!”

“Ellie!”  Her grip tightens on Ellie's shoulders and faintly she thinks that all this movement isn't good for Buffy's still bleeding wound,  thinks that she should be putting pressure on that,  thinks-

“You're going.  Go!”

Ellie-Marie can't help herself.

Her arms unfold to briefly yank Buffy into a hug,  pressing her face into her shoulder before parting ways.  It's the first time she's ever left a hug first.

For another first,  Ellie hopes it won't be the last.

Her knees shake as she climbs into the windowsill.  Her knuckles are already bleeding white.  The wind is starting to pick up,  blonde-white locks blowing in her face with the occasional glimpse of pink and blue.  Her head pounds and her ankle hurts and God she's never liked heights,  never,  but when she glances down now she hates them more than ever.

A whimper passes her lips as she grabs onto the third rung, now entirely over the pavement below.  It's certain death if she falls.  If this ladder shakes or her hands slip or her ankle gives out the way it's begging to now, she's going to die.  In front of her friends and aunt she's going to die and leave her family to find her body below and-

“Mommy,”  she whimpers once more,  unable to help her need for comfort now.  A shriek from behind her has her head turning, desperate to help despite being in the worst position to do so.  Sam and Julie are both calling out,  desperate and terrified.  Ellie wants to be there,  wants to get across so Buffy can finally follow,  but she's unsteady and the ladder and her hands are sweating and she's going to fucking die here.  After everything she's survived this is going to kill her.

A particularly strong burst of wind has Ellie pressing her chest to the rungs,  clutching the ladder like a koala.  “Daddy!”

Her instinctual cry for help echoes in her own ears.  Somewhere below she thinks she hears a response, not daring to look down in fear of growing more unstable yet finding comfort in it regardless.  Pain is written on Sam's face like a tattoo as she crawls into the window,  reaching out her hand in a way that oddly reminds Ellie of Michaelangelo's painting.  A connection between the living and beyond.

“Give me your hand.”  Sam instructs,  straining out the most she can.   “Ellie,  give me your hand!”

On one violently shaking arm Ellie pushes herself back up,  feeling her legs daring to give out under her,  feeling the wind beat against her face.  She doesn't want to die.  She doesn't want to die.  She doesn't want to die.

She's not going to die.

Once her hand is in Sam's,  Ellie is pulled forward, falling into the waiting arms of her friend with a sob of gratefulness.  One hand smoothes over her hair before Sam is pulling away,  giving her a quick once-over before she's back in the window.

And Ellie remembers.

“BUFFY!”  She screams, feeling the tremor of force linger in her body in shocks.   “Buffy,  come across!”

Buffy stands in Quinn's window now,  confliction written across her face.  She glances just behind her, motions for Mindy.  Ellie wishes she could hear them now,  wishes she could yell at Buffy to get her ass into gear because Juliette is begging and Ellie feels her legs quivering,  her head pounding,  her heart racing fast enough to make her feel nauseated.  Instead she has to wait.

She can't do that.

“Sam,”  her voice comes as more of a plea while she nudges her elbow against the older girl.  “Sam,  let me get her.”

“What?”

“Let me get her.”  Sam doesn't look too convinced,  eyeing her head in a way that says she has a few guesses as to how it's currently doing.  Ellie has to use her best ammo,  one she knows Sam will understand.  “Please.  She's my sister,  I have to- I have to get her over here.”

A look of resignation falters across Sam's face before she's backing down from the windowsill,  allowing Ellie to crawl into the frame.  “BUFFY!”

At her call Buffy looks up, finally beginning to crawl onto the ladder.  Ellie can see the blood on her shirt from here,  can see how it hasn't slowed up,  can tell every little move is one of pain.  She has to make this quick for her.

Crawling further out Ellie balances her knees on the windowsill,  hands grasping one of the rungs.  Juliette is holding her ankles,  she can tell.  There's a chain here and Buffy has got to get across,  has got to join before Ellie loses one of the only constants in her life,  before the world loses a light.

None of you want to see me happy echoes in her mind.  Ellie wishes she could tell Buffy that,  right now,  her only wish is to see that smile come back permanently.

Buffy is halfway across when she begins to slip.

Ellie feels her heart plummet in unison with Buffy's scream,  tugging against Juliette to pull further out.  “Buffy!”

“Ellie-Ellie,  I'm not gonna-”

“Yes you are!”  The forceful repetition of Buffy's prior statement is paired with an outreach, desperation blending with ferocious love to create a roar of adrenaline in her veins.  “You're gonna get across,  Fifi,  just take my hand!”

“I can't!”

“Yes you can!  Just a little further,  okay?  Another two.  Another two and I'll get you in,  I promise!”

It's a promise she intends to keep.  If Buffy goes down,  Ellie is going with her.

Gritting her teeth Buffy pushes forward once again,  inching her way to the next rung.  It isn't easy,  but she's in arm's reach.  Ellie's fingers barely brush hers.

It's enough.

Her core strains as Ellie stretches,  hands folding around Buffy's and clutching for dear life as they are pulled backwards.  Into the apartment they tumble, the searing pain creating a flash of white behind Ellie's eyelids before she recuperates.

“Thank God.”  Gratitude spills into Ellie's veins as she wraps her arms around Buffy, eyes closing as though sealing this moment in her mind.  Buffy made it.  Buffy made it.  She's alive,  she's okay,  she's not gone.  She's teary eyed and trembling in Ellie-Marie’s arms,  but she's alive.

It feels like an overdue gift from the universe.

Her eyes open when she hears Julie let out a whimper.  Regardless of how the memories of clutching one another during rollercoasters begs Ellie to keep her arms around Buffy,  she shifts upwards to pass her over.  Julie takes her daughter with a fierce grip, urgent enough to make Buffy let out a squeak.  It's a sweet moment.

Too sweet for what they're having to do.

It's when Mindy is pulled into the room,  gasping for air like a fish out of water, that Ellie remembers herself.  Anika still isn't here.

Anika still isn't here.

Her ankle burns as she lunges to her feet, pulling Sam away from the window desperately.  She has to get Anika.  No one's guarding the door.  Anika isn't safe if the room is otherwise empty.  Anika has to be safe.

She has to get her.

“NINI!”  Her voice bounces off the brick building Anika is currently struggling to crawl out of, echoing across the alleyway with a desperation so guttural that it feels like a horror film.  “Anika,  come on!”

“I'm trying!”

For her part Ellie knows she is, one arm protectively curled around her middle as she drags herself along.  She's moving significantly slower than any of them did.

That's okay,  Ellie resolves.  That's fine.  She can crawl out to her.  She can manage that.  Even if she only gets a fourth of the way across,  Ellie can bring her back.

It's when Quinn's bedroom door finally slams open that doubt shines through that perfect storm of hopefulness.

She screams in unison with Mindy,  frantic as she scurries further out.  There are hands on her, tugging and grasping,  but Ellie can't focus on that now.  Anika needs her.  She's gotta survive.

“Don't turn around!”  Ellie instructs, voice brinking on the verge of begging.   “Anika, whatever you do, don't turn around!”

“What?!”

“Don't turn around!”  Mindy screams behind her, slamming her hands against the wood.

Ghostface is slow as he approaches the bedroom window where the end of the ladder rests.  Ellie knows what he's doing the moment he sinks his knife into the splintered wood,  can feel her world begin to collapse once gloved hands grab the railings of the ladder.

“Anika,”  she starts,  trying so very hard to not focus on how Mindy is beginning to cry.  “Anika,  you gotta move!  You gotta move right now please!”

“I can't!”  Anika cries.

And then the worst happens.

Ellie feels her knees drag first against metal then wood.  It's Sam,  she realizes distantly.

She doesn't get the chance to fight back before the ladder starts shaking.

Anika lets out a scream that Ellie cannot help but echo,  forced to remove her arm from around her stomach to wrap around the ladder.  Her legs are being knocked loose.

She's going to die.

Ellie scrambles back onto the sill with a speed that shocks even her,  straining her arm once again.  “Look at us!  Look at us,  Nini,  look at us!”

The ladder begins to bounce.

Anika looks up.

Ellie catches full sight of her face.

It's beautiful,  she knows.  Anika has always been beautiful.  They met when Anika was sixteen and Ellie was fifteen,  chatting over cinnamon lattes in a nearby coffee shop.  They could talk about everything together,  it seemed.  From Taylor Swift to cats to knitting or crochet, they could go on for hours about it all.  From being there when Ellie realized she was a lesbian after all,  from being that first kiss,  from being each other's prom date because Ellie was homeschooled and Anika said she was too lively to miss a party,  even if it wasn't really a party,  they've been each other's solid for four years in New York.  Ellie has seen Anika wear every emotion on her face.  They've gone through each of them together.

Every emotion but this one.

Anika is wearing her green shirt now.  They dyed their hair together once.  Ellie has a bag full of things Anika has left after sleepovers.

When the ladder jostles one more time,  Ellie realizes she'll never get to give them back.

Buffy yanks her back the moment the ladder goes airborne.  Ellie screams like a bat out of hell,  flings herself forward because Anika is still out there and she doesn't deserve this and-

“ANIKA!”

It's Mindy.  It's Mindy screaming beside her as Anika descends from the ladder.  Ellie can't breathe.

Ellie can't breathe.

Making a sound is impossible until that final thunk indicates where Anika has wound up.  

Finally,  finally,  Ellie sinks to her knees.

With the world taking it all,  she begins to scream.