A/N: Hey! So I haven't written a fic in a really long time. Alas, all the fics I have posted are from over two years ago, and they were from when I was a lot younger (and worse at writing). I'm not saying I'm great now, but I'm definitely not as bad as before. (Also, I usually do more reading, which is why I have an enormous amount of favorites.) So here's my first fic back.

A few more things: I don't own PLL/Ravenswood or any of the characters here. Actually, I haven't ever watched Ravenswood, so forgive me for my probably countless errors. This will also probably contain continuity errors, but oh well. Oops. Sorry. Anyway, constructive criticism is definitely appreciated, so [insert classic please review here]. Enjoy!


You wake up.

It's still dark outside, obviously, and when you check the clock you see that it's barely two thirty. So why did you wake up? Sure, you're a ghost and all, but hey, you need your beauty rest just like any other teenage girl.

Sighing, you close your eyes again, and the darkness almost envelops you completely once again. There is no more sound except for the ticking of the clock and the occasional chirp of crickets outside in the garden. You ought to get that fixed, as soon as you get out of this whole pact mess you just happened to create.

There is no sound until, well, there is a sound. It's a whimper, you realize, probably the same noise that woke you up the first time. Upon closer inspection you realize that it's Caleb. Suddenly you remember the previous night's exchange, where he asked to stay in your room until it became less dangerous. Protection, he had said. You had scoffed and told him you didn't need it, but he stayed anyway. The thought sent strange butterflies through your stomach, and you smiled.

Another breathless whimper is let out beside you, and the smile disappears off your face. Groaning, you decide that you better fix whatever dream he was having or you won't be getting any sleep at all. Turning the light on, you silently step from the bed to the wooden floors, before walking over. Being able to see better, you can now tell that Caleb's mouth is slightly parted, forming words.

Once you reach him you kneel down, hoping to fix whatever was bothering him. Was it the pact? The danger? No, he told you about the dangers of Rosewood as well. Then again, living killers and supernatural ones were very, very different.

"No, no please."

Your eyes widen, truly wondering what such a nightmare was about. He has strands of hair stuck onto his forehead with beads of sweat; clearly this isn't some superficial thing.

"H-Han..."

Oh, so that was it. Hanna, his girlfriend (or was it ex now?) from back in Rosewood. But what on earth was he so upset about? You thought he was okay with leaving her, right?

A cry pierces the air this time, and you know that delaying to wake him is no longer an option. You hurriedly lean down to place a hand on his shoulder, thanking the fact that you could touch him now. You say his name a couple times too for good measure, and he wakes up with a start.

He's still panting as he sits straight up, and had you not flinched away he probably would have knocked straight into you. He looks around wildly for a few seconds, brows furrowed, until he sees you and seems to realize that no, he's not still in the dream, and yes, it's okay.

Well, it's not exactly okay, per say, but it seems to be enough for him. He immediately buries his head in his hands, as if clearing it from whatever just happened, while he catches his breath. Slowly and awkwardly, you sit down next to him and place a hand gently on his shoulder again.

He seems to appreciate the gesture, as he shoots you a small smile once his breathing has evened out. You decide that it's questioning time.

"You want to talk about what happened?" you ask, remembering to keep your voice tender. "You know, in the dream?"

He doesn't reply at first, instead drawing a sharp breath in and transforming his face back into a pained expression. Then he sighs, face relaxing, and begins to speak.

"At first I was back in Rosewood," he starts, voice quiet and gravelly. "I was in the tent that Hanna and I first, well, you know." He looks at you awkwardly but for some reason, you don't feel as jealous as either of you expected.

"I went inside," he continued, "and there she was, sitting there waiting for me all angelic. I stepped closer to her, and—" Caleb's breath catches, and your hand falls from his shoulder to rest on his. He seems to be comfort in this and continues on, voice rough.

"And this monster in all black, he came and just stabbed her. Like, all old fashioned with a knife and everything. And then Hanna, my Hanna, was dying and I couldn't do anything to stop it—"

"Caleb."

"—and then I realized I couldn't see very well so I touched my face and it had this horrible black mask that I tore off and then suddenly I was wearing a black hoodie—"

"Caleb..."

"—and I looked at my hands and they were covered in so much blood and then Hanna was backing away from me and screaming and—"

"Caleb!" you shout for the third time. He looks at you, mid sentence, with tears pooling in his eyes and a grief-wretched expression on his face. "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it."

He only shakes his head at you. "No, no, it's actually kind of helping." You nod understandingly and give him a reassuring smile. He has to take a deep breath before continuing.

"Then I was with the girls, all of them," he says. You realize this is a new scene.

"Hanna was okay, thank god for that, and I made sure to show it too. So I went up to hug her and all, but then... then at the last second she was shot. And it happened all over again.

"The same thing happened over and over, with us being together and her dying and me, I-I—"

"What is it, Caleb?" you prod quietly. He's shaking violently by now, but you know the worst part is over.

"I couldn't save her," he whispers. "I wasn't there to protect her, to keep her from harm. I couldn't keep her safe or even stop the wound from killing her. I was just there, powerless, and then I was the murderer and Han, gosh she hated me."

His voice trails off and a sob takes its place, and you realize this is the first time you have seen him cry. And then you know. You know just how much he loves this girl, this Hanna. And they both deserve each other, that you can be sure of. For the first time you realize just how much more they would be than if he were with you, and you're okay. You're strangely but undeniably okay with it.

Still, your heart shatters as he continues to cry himself out, muttering Hanna's name every few sobs. He misses her, you realize. That, and he loves her. He loves her so much that he's having nightmares about losing her.

A few minutes later, after whispered words of comfort and reassurances, he raises his tear stained face to look at you. He flashes you a sincere smile, but you no longer feel the same butterflies from just last night. You still care about him, just not in... that way. Something about your expression causes him to see what you've only just found out about yourself, and he smiles again, bigger. He'll be okay, you think.

And so you sit in silence for a while, neither of you bothering to speak. It's a comfortable silence, unlike a few that you two previously had, and you know not to take it for granted. Finally, after a few minutes, his voice fills the room.

"Miranda?" It's small and vulnerable and totally unlike the Caleb you know. Then again, this entire night is totally unlike the Caleb you know.

"Hm?"

"Can I check the tv? Like, to see the news?" He looks down, embarrassed, but continues on. "I know Hanna's probably sleeping right now, but I really need to know that she's safe."

You nod and pull him to the living room with you, secretly grinning to yourself. Now that you're not blinded by your own attraction, you can see the truth. God, this boy is head over heels.

As you turn the television on, you silently pray that it doesn't show reports of a seventeen year old blonde dying. You're pretty sure that it won't, but you know that if Hanna really does die while Caleb's in Ravenswood, there will be no repairing of him. That would be a nightmare in itself.

But the heavens seem to listen to you, as the Rosewood news only speaks of a mild storm ahead. There are no reports on A, no reports on Alison, and most importantly, nothing on Hanna. Out of the corner of your eye you see Caleb let out a big sigh of relief, and you do as well. You don't know her very well, but if Caleb cares about her this much, then you do too.

As you both head back to your respective beds, you watch as Caleb takes out his phone. You cannot tell what he's doing exactly, but he does it with surprising concentration. But quickly as he's pulled it out, he puts his phone back on the nightstand and steps into his covers.

"Thank you," he says quietly, as you both shut your eyes for sleep. The lights are off again, and then it is quiet.

You don't find out about what he did until an hour later, when you wake up once more to use the bathroom. On your way back you spot his phone laying on the nightstand and can't help but take a peek. It's a text, you realize, and when you read it your heart warms.

To: Hanna

Sent: 3:07am

I love you.