Emma enjoys the drive back to Philadelphia. She's never been able to drive this far of a distance before, and definitely not alone. It's nice and safe. She taps her fingers on the wheel along with the music playing. The drive blurs into one long stretch of grey between the tops of mountains and light snow flurries landing on the windshield.
It's late afternoon when she's dragging her suitcase across campus and back to her dorm. The whole way she can't shake the feeling that something is watching her, looming over her shoulder. She quickens her pace and keeps her head faced forward.
She's far from stupid. Maybe a bit intentionally ignorant, but not stupid. It's the lingering aftershocks of a traumatic event. Or several traumatic events really. It's anxiety and agoraphobia that has been awakened by the new semester. That's it, surely.
Any other ideas are buried deep away.
She walks with Jules and Maggie across campus to get their books for the semester. She laughs along as her friends joke about how expensive books are, and how sick of the dining hall they are. They missed home and she didn't.
Emma needed space. It wasn't that things were bad or weird with Roman. Quite the opposite really. They had spent the last few days of her break together. It takes the ride back to feel it, but it's as if the further away she gets from Hemlock Grove the more anxious she gets. The feeling that she is completely alone in the world suffocates her. It's not healthy.
Even surrounded by friends and new classmates she feels lonely. It's just another semester of struggling to find group project partners. Another semester of wanting to want the right things.
She doesn't know why she had expected it. When her first weekend back comes and goes without a visit from Roman she feels almost abandoned.
- Hemlock Grove -
Roman loathes the word co-dependent. Truthfully, he hates any word that can be used to describe him in any light other than the image is building for himself. It comes up casually when they're making plans for the spring gala at the institute. It's the first one they've had since he had taken over and it needed to be perfect. Or at least that's what everyone keeps saying.
They're discussing dates when Roman casually mentions he needs to check with Emma before officially deciding. He had no idea when her finals were, or what other school things she might have to do. It's kind of cute how co-dependent the two of you are. Roman's not sure who said it, but it cuts through the chatter like a sharp knife. Everyone stops speaking and looks around as if they're trying to find the culprit. Ironically enough, he returns to his office with the message that Emma had called his assistant to check on him.
Roman can't even stutter out a response. He calmly dismisses the meeting and returns to his office alone. It's there at his desk it stews a bit. He tries to distract himself with a late lunch that hardly satiates him. It had been over a week since he'd had a 'proper' meal, and even then he couldn't truly enjoy it.
When he's around people properly it's easy to grow disgusted at the more animalistic parts of him. More than he already is anyways. But it had gotten to a point that he could see the serious concern in both Emma and her mother's face. That wouldn't do.
He carnivorously attacks the cooked meat on his plate. Anything above rare wouldn't do, but he needed the distraction. He hears a bit of a racket outside of his office and the door pushing open. He didn't have any appointments, and Trevor better not have fucked that up. He's ready to explode at the poor man when he looks up.
"Roman," Olivia says softly. She stands in front of him in perfect health. The only indication that anything might have happened to her is the cane she lightly walks with. Roman's heart skips a beat and a burst of delirious laughter threatens to pass through his lips. "I'm sorry to surprise you like this, darling."
Olivia walks further in while Roman stares speechless. "I know you're a busy man," she says and leans on the back of the couch for assistance. "I'm so proud of you and your... entrepreneurial spirit, but you need to let Pryce do his work. It's important to us."
"Important to you," he corrects. "Had I known the budget was paying for your... your whatever this is." He motions to her living body. "I would have cut it a long time ago."
"Don't be a fool, Roman," she scolds him like a child. "Are you hungry?" She asks in an almost patronizing tone. "Or have you been eating?"
"I'm fine," he growls.
"You are hungry, aren't you? You think it's something you can control like a normal person. But you are not normal, Roman. That's why you went to Hawaii, and Bora Bora, and all that flying to Philadelphia, to ignore it. But you can't outrun it forever. You think you're smart, don't you? Going after the people no one will miss, feeding without killing anyone." Olivia walks close to his desk. "But bodies will eventually line up and point right to you. And the thirst will never stop."
Roman attempts to demand she leaves, but Olivia's voice stays strong in his silence. "We've spent centuries outrunning our victims- slaves to our appetite. Until now. Until I married us into the White Tower."
"At least you admit that you've fucked and finagled your way through the centuries."
"I did all for you Roman," she says to him softly. "You're my flesh and blood. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."
"And what about Shelley?" He asks bitterly. "Have you even thought about her?"
"Of course I have! You think I haven't grieved?"
"And what about me?" He continues. "The things you made me do. The things you wanted me to do."
"It was the only way for you progress."
"I don't want to progress. I want to be human."
"You'll never be," she chuckles. "You're my son."
"I would do anything not to be."
- Philadelphia -
Emma desperately wishes she could point to a single trigger or thought that caused this reaction, but she can't. It's a sudden downpour that flooded the basement and had breeched over the porch before she noticed. It was too late.
Maybe it was the overwhelming task of filling out her planner for the semester. Chem II, Bio II, Calculus, and somehow the most daunting of all- American Folklore. The pages and dates fill up quickly with notes of due dates and tests. She should probably start looking at extracurriculars too. A whole semester had come and gone wasted.
Dr. Lowenstien is the only professor that notices her missing from class. Her other classes were in large lecture halls where taking attendance was nearly impossible. He emails her asking if she's sick and she lies and says yes. There's nothing wrong with her physically except everything hurts and she's too tired to move.
She calls Roman that morning but he doesn't answer. When an hour passes she panics and calls his secretary. He notifies her he's busy with meetings but that he would be happy to take a message. She feels silly after hanging up- of course, he was busy. It was the middle of the day.
With no one else left to call she turns to her computer for a distraction. Putting on a TV show she's watched a million times, she stares at it and tries to pay attention. Fading in and out of sleep, her rest is plagued with dreams. She's back in the room with the intense energy that radiates with Roman's stare. Then she wakes up and checks her phone, hoping to see a missed text. There is nothing.
A new dream fades in through the fog as well. It's not a dream so much as a memory. It's the week of Roman's 16th birthday. She remembers how carefully he used to drive, barely going about the speed limit. He picked her up on the last truly hot day of the summer and drove across town to his father's grave. After, he drove out to the lake where they went swimming and both ended up with strange rashes from the water.
They never leave in her dream. She stands watching him sit in front of the grave, unsure of what to say or what he's feeling. She feels drawn to the headstone, her hands want to rub along the smooth marble and trace the letters of J.R.'s name with her fingers.
It's grey outside and the time slips away. Before she knows it, Jules is unlocking the door and comes in carrying her dinner. The bright fluorescent light of the hallway shines in briefly as the door shuts.
"Have you been to class today?" Jules asks looking around their dark dorm before turning the lights on.
"No," Emma mumbles.
"Are you going to tomorrow."
"I don't know. I can't leave," she whispers. "I feel like something bad is going to happen."
"Like what?"
"I don't know." Emma looks up to her.
"You are being insane," Jules tells her. "You know that, right?" Emma nods shamefully.
"It's just-" she starts before hesitating. She doesn't know what to say, what to share. "I have these thoughts in my head and they won't go away. I keep telling myself to stop, and that I'm being irrational, but they won't go away. They just run around, and run around, and run around." She waves her hand in the air.
"You need help."
She knows she does. But there are things she can't explain to anyone.
That night Jules drags her from her bed to Maggie's room. A new girl, Liza, has just transferred into the school. Maggie had met and befriended her and wanted everyone else to as well. Emma sits a bit outside of the group, scrolling through Instagram and drinking wine straight from the bottle.
Leah, Maggie's roommate, is sharing a lewd story of her with a guy she had met on Tinder. The girls around her giggle and laugh. Emma joins in with their laughs but doesn't listen to her speak. Later into the night, and 3/4's of a wine bottle through, someone suggests they play never have I ever.
She hadn't played this game since going to Kim's 16th birthday sleepover. She lied her ass off that night and no one suspected a thing. Never have I ever road a rollercoaster and never have I ever lied about where I was progressed into Never have I ever kissed someone. Never have I ever smoked weed. Never have I ever lost my virginity.
Emma plays along with the girls and is impressed by their seemingly tame questions. She assumes it's because no one has tested the waters with Liza yet. Who knew how much she was comfortable with. Being a group of 19-year-old girls, most of their conversations led to their flings with boys- or girls. Leah always had the craziest stories. Never have I ever forgotten a guys name mid-way into a date. Never have I ever said the wrong name. Never have I ever dated two bothers without the other knowing.
"Everybody is ganging up on me!" She whines.
"You're the only one who overshares everything," Jules points out.
"I do not!"
"You absolutely do," Maggie interjects with a hearty laugh.
"Fine," Leah huffs. "Never have I ever been in a serious relationship." She smirks as all the girls except her and Emma take a drink.
"Never have I ever had a brother," Maggie takes her turn quickly.
"Hey!" Jules objects then drinks.
"You're just collateral damage, sorry. This is full-on warfare with Leah."
"Oh, that's how we're doing it?" Jules smiles. "Never have I ever fucked in my dorm." Maggie proudly takes a drink. When Jules sees Emma drink along her jaw drops. "Gross!"
"What?" Emma asks. "We're in college. It's not like it was on your bed."
"Still," she groans. "Get a hotel. You're fucking up our dorm's vibes."
"Never have I not had sex in my dorm," Emma responds with and eye-roll. The other two girls drink.
Another 30 minutes in and all of the girls have begun to regret the night. They'll feel it in the morning for sure. It turns out Liza did open up a bit, but she was a bit timid. She'd grown up in a small, not so different from Hemlock. While she was the soberest, at this point everyone had admitted something embarrassing.
"Never have I ever had period sex?" Liza asks. Emma drinks slowly, somehow feeling as though Liza already knew her answer. That she just needed confirmation.
"Gross," Leah scrunches her face. Emma looks down and doesn't respond.
Eventually, Liza's questions begin to seem aimed at her. It's probably a coincidence, just purely drunken lewd thoughts crossing her mind. Never have I ever slept with a stranger. Never have I ever taken plan-b. That's why people play never have I ever. They want the dirty details.
"Never have I ever not used a condom," Liza asks.
"Okay, but what if it was like an accident?" Leah slurs. Jules tilts her head at that. "Like you just sort of forgot. We've all done that before."
"No we have not all done that," Liza laughs back. "But I meant on purpose.
"That's not fair. I'm in a long term relationship," Maggie protests.
"Drink," Leah demands with a grin. Maggie does and Emma follows shortly after.
"Damn girl, you're wild," Jules says looking at her roommate.
"Not really," Emma mumbles with a head shake. She's almost as drunk as she is embarrassed.
"Emma," Jules berates. "You don't even take birth control." Emma looks around the room trying to figure out how she got here. How did she become the singled-out one? It only heightens her sense of paranoia. Why are they asking?
"Aren't you terrified of getting pregnant?" Maggie asks shocked. "I would be too scared."
Emma thinks for a moment. "No. It's never really come to mind."
"Well," Maggie pops her lips. "I guess you've just gotten really lucky when it comes to timing."
Like a fucking gift from heaven, her phone rings. She hopes to pick it up to see Roman calling but it's an unknown number. The girls in the room are all shouting and giggling as she answers it.
"Hello?" She answers, waving to quiet down her friends.
"Hey," she hears Peter say. Her face and stomach drop as she hastily moves to the hallway. Jules looks after her, concerned.
"Peter?" She says quietly once the door is closed safely behind her.
"Hey," he repeats, a bit lighter this time. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," she says emotionless.
"That's good," she can hear him swallow over the phone. "I need your help."
"What with," Emma sighs and paces.
"Roman-"
"You need to talk to him yourself," she cuts him off.
"I did!" He defends himself. "Look, Lynda is in jail on some bullshit charges."
"So you need money?"
"Yes," he confesses. At least he's honesty, she thinks.
"I don't fuck with Roman's money, Peter," she snaps. "You should know that."
"I'm not asking you-" Peter groans. "I need you to talk to him for me. Explain to him-"
"Explain to him what?" She asks. "Explain to him how you disappeared only to conveniently return when you need his money. I'm sure he knows that Peter."
"I tried to talk to him myself," he explains. "He won't listen to me. Don't do it for me, do it for Lynda."
"I'm not going to ask Roman to give you money," she shakes her head. "I won't."
"Emma," Peter begs.
"No," she says before hanging up.
- Hemlock Grove | 5 hours earlier -
Deep below the ground floor of the white tower lives Johann Pryce's life's work. Taking a look at his collections of oddities you'd be surprised to find that he still has a lot of life left in him. A lot more left to do.
A small tumor-like piece of flesh sits on a metal table. It's prodded at and directed by a woman in a white coat. Dr. Pryce check's in with her periodically, but she bring shim the appropriate samples when it's completed and leaves without a word. Pressing his thumb to a scanner at the door, he proceeds further into the lab.
Certain rooms were only accessible by certain scientists and not others. There is one room that only Pryce, and people Pryce opens the door for, can enter. The room is pure white, like the rest of the tower. It's kept clean by Pryce himself.
He typically finds himself spending late nights in this lab. He plays his classical music and moves in an almost rhythmic way with his work. It feels like a thankless task- what he is creating. The other scientists that have helped out know nothing about its true nature. They never would. Even Roman Godfrey himself was blacklisted from this knowledge.
Maybe one day he'll have some grand reveal, but not now.
A buzzing from one of the desks grabs his attention. He answers it without a sound. "Dr. Pryce, Mr. Godfrey wants to speak with you."
"Tell him I'm busy and will meet with him later."
"I'm sorry but he wants to speak to you now. He's here waiting."
"Show him to my office. I'm on my way."
"Roman," Pryce greets him with false joy. "What can I-" He stops with a gasp of pain. Roman has jumped at him, pinning him against the wall with one arm across his neck.
"You better have a good goddamn reason why Olivia is alive."
"Roman," Pryce responds with a slight waver. "You need to believe me when I say my work-"
"Do you," Roman growls. "Not understand what she has done to me?"
"I believe your mother is sorry for what she's done."
"Do you?" Roman scoffs. "Do you? That's great. I hope your dedication to my mother pays off for you because you no longer work here."
"Roman, let me remind you that I will leave with half of this staff." Pryce finally wiggles himself free. Roman steps back, breathing heavily, to lean against the desk.
"That's fine, I'll rehire."
"You'll lose all the work that I own, which is a lot."
"That's fine."
While Johann Pryce has spent years as a clean up man for the Godfrey's, he doesn't want to leave. His work is here and he is left almost completely alone. He's free to do as he pleases. Roman had been true to his word and hadn't gone digging too deep again. "Let me show you something first. Something your father left behind for me to work on."
Roman looks distrusted, but he agrees to follow behind. If it involved his father it involved him. Pryce leads him through a maze of sterile-looking hallways until finally approaching the last door. He goes through all the security protocols and holds the door open.
"What is this?" Roman asks looking around the bright room. He can't seem to absorb all the visuals before him. "Some sort of stem cell farm?"
"In a way, yes," Pryce smiles at him proudly.
"I thought we weren't doing shit like this anymore?" He ventures in further and begins to examine a few of the tanks. "Ethics and all."
"Not officially, no. But, as I said this is a private project that your father left behind."
"Miscellaneous R and D?"
"Miscellaneous R and D," Pryce confirms.
"What's it for?" Roman keeps moving around in awe.
"Oh, for a variety of things hopefully. It will benefit the entire research community, we'll get it right before we try publicly. It will benefit you-"
"Me?"
"Imagine an entity that would be capable of providing you with blood. A heart, veins, but no person." Pryce had expected a reaction from Roman but receives nothing. "And it was for Shelley..."
"Shelley?"
"I'd hoped to create a host body for her. One that she could enjoy a fuller life in," he says as Roman approaches the largest tank. "That's my pride and joy right there." Pryce rushes to stand next to him. "The first asexually created human. Well, not a human so much as a human body."
"It's not alive?" Roman looks it over. Its face is mostly covered by an oxygen mask. Its chest rises and falls, followed by a trail of bubbles rising to the top. Its fingers twitch ever so often.
"She only reacts to bright lights and sounds. Much like a vegetative state. She's waiting on a soul."
The whole body floats but is still. It has no color to it, its veins bright under its translucent skin. The hair is white. It barely looks human.
"I'm working on gene mutation as well. Since then she is completely created using one egg and no other form of DNA, would it be possible to introduce specific traits to create the ideal body?"
"Amazing," Roman whispers to himself. "How long has this been going on?"
"You didn't check the books?" Pryce chucks. "Quite a while, I suppose. It was one of the earlier projects I worked on here at the institute."
"Could these cells be used to... To make someone like me normal?" Roman asks slowly. He looks at the large sack of flesh on a table and resists the urge to tough it.
"Make you human?" Roman nods. "I don't think so, Roman."
"So this, this was made for Shelley?" Roman clears his throat and buries his disappointment. He. approaches the tank once more. He reaches forward and taps his finger on the glass. The creature's head jerks and eyes open wide. Roman jumps back at the sudden motion. "I didn't think... I didn't think I was that loud."
"I guess she's being sensitive today," Pryce jokes. "Typically, it needs to be a louder sound."
"And there's nothing going on up there?" Roman asks and points to his head. Pryce tells him no once more, but with its eyes open he can't shake it. Its eyes are as pale as the rest of its body with only the black of its pupils for contrast. Roman feels its eyes looking him over. He looks away in discomfort.
"I guess I should shut it down." Pryce breaks the silence. "The intellectual property involving the project is my own. Your father signed it over to me..."
"Why wouldn't I be ready?" Roman asks abruptly.
"What do you mean?"
"Olivia told me I wasn't ready to know about this." Pryce's face falls and he swallows before answering.
"Olivia is not aware of this lab's existence. The project she is referring to is not this one," he says wearily.
"She doesn't know?"
"It was part of the agreement I made with your father." Pryce glances over to him and then back to the floating body. "However, if I'm released from my contract I might have to tell her."
"I don't give a shit," Roman scoffs.
"You should," Pryce counters.
"What do you mean?" His face turns cold.
"I mean, it would be a shame if Olivia found out that this why all her elaborate schemes failed. It might act as a muse of some sort."
"Are you blackmailing me?" He chuckles. "Tell Olivia what you want. She'll figure out a way to get what she wants one way or another. She always does."
"Not this time, Roman. Your father and I made sure of that." Roman stares him down before deciding to end the conversation. Pryce feels his time fleeting and decides to make his reveal. "Had he known it would come at Letha's expense, he wouldn't have done it."
"What's that mean?" Roman looks down in guilt at the mention of his cousin's name.
"It means that even your father seems to have underestimated your mother's... determination." Roman scoffs. As if determination could ever capture the intensity of Olivia's evilness. "Your father was a smart man, intuitively anyways. Towards the end of his life, he picked up on a lot of things your mother did. He could see through her generosity like a window."
"Things?" He asks but fears he already knows the answer. Perhaps he had known for a while but didn't understand it.
"She was just a child," Pryce starts, recognizing the look on the boy's face. "Practically a baby. We did what we could."
"What does that mean?"
"We harvested as many eggs from her as possible and used radiation on the remaining ones. I suggested tubal litigation, but it would have drawn too much attention during puberty."
"And you did this? Without her knowing? Without her parents knowing?"
"We had to," Pryce sighs.
"This is a lot," Roman sits down and runs his hands through his hair. "This is... sick. What you've done."
"No, you don't understand," Pryce stops him. "Your father did this to help her."
"Help?" Roman laughs.
"He brought her to me like a child with a terminal illness, begging for some miracle cure."
"This is fucked," Roman's voice shakes. "He shouldn't have- he didn't have the right."
"Humans aren't like you, Roman," Pryce says soothingly. "Not doing anything was a damnation. Letha not terminating her pregnancy was a damnation. Humans cannot survive it." Roman doesn't speak. He puts his chin in his hands and tries to calm down.
"So all of these," Roman finally speaks. He gestures around. "All of these things were created with..."
"Yes. Using the harvested eggs."
"You have to destroy them. You have to destroy them now. All of them. They're not yours to fuck with."
"Miss Parker won't find out." Pryce gives him a reassuring smile. "That was the whole point. Her life will go on without interruption for the most part. It's better than-"
"Dying?" Roman scoffs with disbelief. "If Olivia finds out this exists she will stop at nothing to take it," Roman's eyes have yet to settle. They still are trying to take in everything. "Or destroy it. You can't tell me you didn't know to think about that when you brought her back."
"She doesn't know. This is invaluable work."
"Using stolen DNA," Roman pokes his chest.
"Do you not understand how remarkable it is that-"
"Get rid of it," Roman says stiffly and turns to leave.
"I will not. This is my work. I own it."
"Get rid of it," he asserts. "Or I will get rid of it and you."
Roman drives home in a haze trying desperately to piece together his thoughts. They remain scrambled. He didn't want to tell her. He shouldn't have to be the one to tell her. Hadn't he done enough? Even though this was out of his control, it all led back to him. He considers not telling her, seriously considers it.
He can't find any empathy in his heart for her, only pity for himself. He's going to feel like shit the next time he sees her. Did she have to be reminded of something she had blocked out of her mind? Clearly, the memory is missing for a reason.
Roman wants to feel anything other than self-pity and loathing. He pushes his mind to envision what Emma's life would be like. In ten years or so would she be married and wanting a child? Would she go into it blindly expecting nothing to be wrong? Then Roman thinks about how he has years to worry about that.
More importantly, where would he be in 10 years? He had never imagined getting that old, never really saw a future beyond the next day.
Parking in the garage, he sits until the lights turn themselves off. Something turns in his stomach. Guilt? It must be guilt. Not guilt for what has happened. Guilt that he doesn't care.
He pours himself a drink before even taking his shoes off. He needs a distraction and fast. At the rate his stomach is moving, it will eat itself by the end of the hour. Roman sits on the couch with his drink in hand and watches TV.
A distraction comes eventually. An unwelcome distraction.
A/N: Sorry this took a while to get out:( I decided I'd rather give you guys the chapter you deserve even if it takes a bit longer.Thank you all for reading and supporting this!!!PS: If you're interested in previews for the future check my tumblr. I'm dropping little hints here and there.