Allie woke up with a pounding headache. Not only that, but she woke up to frantic knocking on her apartment door and her phone binging rapidly. She closed her eyes again and leaned against the cool pillow, taking in a moment of relaxation that obviously didn't come. 

"COMING!" Allie shouted, holding her forehead and running to the door. The apartment was empty, meaning that Ali, Alex and Hope had already left for their weekend classes. How late could it be? 1:37. That late. 

The blonde still in her pajama pants and a tank top flung the door open and had to blink a few times for her eyes to focus on the people in front of her. 

"Allie, we have to go!" Mallory said loudly. Maybe it was just loud in her head. "We need you to drive us... Lindsey's hurt! She was in a car accident!" 

That made Allie's eyes open. "Hurt? Badly? Is she in the hospital?" 

Behind Mal, Steph nodded. "Yes to all of them." 

"I'll be out in a minute," Allie said, slamming the door in their faces. She rushed into the bedroom she shared with Hope and quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, not bothering with a new bra or underwear. 

She grabbed her phone and slid it into her bunny pouch and popped four aspirins out of a little bottle, swallowing them all whole. She looked at herself quickly in the mirror and sighed. Allie knew she shouldn't care what she looked like if one the specialist people in her life, was suffering, but she couldn't help it. Her blonde hair was greasy, tangled and knotted, and creases and the dark circles under her eyes gave away her visible exhaustion.

Mal's furious knock sounded again, and Allie groaned, shoveling the mess into a loose bun and running to the door. "Coming, I'm coming..." the senior muttered, flinging the door open. Mallory and Steph stepped behind her, taking off down the hallway. 

The girls were at the hospital in less than a minute, and Allie had to swallow down the fear that was bubbling in her throat. 

Sirens and workers in white and green scrubs rushed down the halls, dragging patients in stretchers, scribbling on clipboards and looking as if they could use another twenty hours of sleep or so. 

As they neared the front desk, Mal pushed Allie to the front, pressuring her to talk to the receptionist. "Um... is Lindsey Horan here?" 

The woman nodded. "Yes, she is here." She didn't say anything else. 

Allie paused. She had expected more of an answer. "Ca- can we see her?" she tried again. 

The receptionist looked at the three women closely. "Are you family?" 

"Yes, she's her girlfriend, and we're her step-sisters," Mallory butted in, gesturing at Allie and then at her and Steph. The receptionist still didn't look completely convinced, but was distracted by a group of teenage boys that had run into the hospital, completely drunk. While she was yelling at them, Allie picked up three visitor badges from the counter and clipped them on her and the two younger girls, still slightly starstruck from Mal's explanation. 

In the busy hallway that followed the front desk, Allie bent next to a short, pudgy nurse. "Excuse me, sir," she said to him. 

"Yes?" he responded, eyeing their badges and beaming up at her. 

"Can you please tell us which room Lindsey Horan is in? We have permission to see her," Allie lied easily. The man glanced down at his clipboard and his smile fade a little. 

"Room 235. Second floor, seventh room from the elevator. I would be careful, though. She's been heavily drugged with painkillers..." the nurse squeaked. 

The women thanked the short man and made their way up to the second floor. This floor was quieter, only a few families wearing identical visitor badges. 

Steph squeezed open the door to room 235 quietly and Allie paled. Lindsey was nothing but a tangle of white sheets. Her arms were bruised and bandaged, and a tiny pudding cup was half eaten on her bedside table. Not only did the unsanitariness upset her, but the constant beeping of surrounding machines made Allie's stomach turn upside down. 

"Hey Lindsey..." Mal whispered, sitting down in the chair next to the woman's bed, resting her head on her fists. The woman didn't speak for a moment, her eyes flickering open. They were glazed with medications. 

"Emily..." Lindsey croaked. "Em, I need you..." 

Allie frowned. What?

-

Alex was sitting in a booth with Servando, talking about football. The Super Bowl was to occur in less than three months, and they were betting on who would make it that far when Alex's phone buzzed and she jumped slightly, releasing Servando's hand and reaching for the device. Scrolling through her apps until she found messages, she located the multiple texts that had been sent by Allie. 

[Pookie - 2:07] LEX YOU NEED TO STOP MAKING OUT WITH SERVAN AND COME TO THE HOSPITAL

[Pookie - 2:07] LIKE, NOW

Alex blushed at the first text and looked back at Servando. "Sorry," she apologized, standing up. "I... I have to go." 

Servando frowned. "Why?" he asked, looking at her with disappointment.

[Pookie - 2:08] ALEXANDRA PATRICIA MORGAN IT IS A FREAKING EMERGENCY

[Pookie - 2:09] LIKE WHAT THEY DO IN PRETTY LITTLE LIARS EVEN THOUGH THAT SHOW IS FUCKING STUPID

[Pookie - 2:09] S.O.S

Alex sighed, slipping her phone back into her pocket. Though slightly offended at the Pretty Little Liars remark, she tried to ignore it. "I can't explain... I, well, I don't even really know why... but I have to go. Emergency, but call me!" she smiled at him, walking out of the cafe. Once she was out of sight, Alex broke into a run and made her way to the nearest bus station. 

She hopped on the bus line going south to the New York City Hospital, and closed her eyes as she leaned against the back of her blue, plastic seat. Through all the beeping of traffic, people talking on phones and yellow cabs, all Alex could do was pray that everyone was okay.