A/N: You know, I've been reading a bunch of these stories and I just find Caleb's character so interesting. So I thought I'd do a little experiment. This may get a little intense, but sorry, not that much Haleb fluff if that's all you're reading for :P It's a little AU in the sense of how Hanna and Caleb met. Rated T for swearing and drama :X

I do not own Pretty Little Liars

He stood in a parking lot of an old deli he found wandering around his home one day. Although, it wasn't really his home, but just his temporary house. A home is a place where one feels safe, secure, always loved. Home is where your parents tuck you in at night and tell you bedtime stories. No, Caleb didn't have one of those. Just a room that he shared with a kid he didn't even know in an endless hallway of doors, like a college building filled with dorms. A place where his foster parents never even realized if he came home at all that week, let alone just one night. As long as they got their fair share of money for legally housing him, they didn't care if he was on another continent; at least, that's what he told himself.

He took out a cigarette as he remembered when he went to his first foster home. He was nine-years-old. He remembered being home with his sister, Genevieve, playing Jenga. He could still hear the constant yelling from his parents in the room over and the knocking on the thin apartment walls from their neighbors. As the small wooden blocks came to a tumble when Genevieve pulled one out, a door was heard swinging open. Caleb turned his small head to see his mother holding the left side of her face, a stream of blood falling from just above her eye. But he didn't understand when his sister started to cry and went to their mother's assistance. He didn't understand why they were crying and his father was laughing. He didn't want to understand.

By that night, Caleb's mother drove him and his sister to a historical looking, black building with gothic gates around it. She whispered something to Genevieve, who nodded respectively, and took hold of Caleb's hand, dragging him to the front door. His sister looked emotionless as she rang the doorbell and watched their mother's green SUV drive away. She knew what was going to happen, and for his own sake, she kept it a secret from her brother. When an old lady smoking a cigarette answered the door, Genevieve handed her two papers with their mother's signature all over it. She nodded and pulled the two inside, calling to a man named Burt. When he appeared, Caleb had to cover his mouth and nose because of the stench of whiskey infecting his senses. The man took Genevieve to one side of the house, holding onto her pony-tail, while the woman nudged Caleb to the other. The next morning, he said goodbye to his sister, who later drove off in a small van with more children her age. She was sent to a house in Virginia, due to her age group and overcrowding. Caleb was stuck in Chicago, alone. That was the last day he decided to feel. He was only nine.

The long haired boy shook his mind of that day. He wanted nothing more than to forget that event. He wished to just start clean one day, to have a restart button on his whole life. But after so many years of tolerating pain, he knew he had to just leave. That's why he wanted to go to Arizona. The farther he could run from the people who hurt him, he believed the farther he could run from remembering them and what they made him do. They made him feel like he was a waste of life. They made him feel like he didn't have a purpose. They made him feel like no one would ever want something to do with him. And for the longest time, he believed it, and still did. He wondered if there would ever be a person to reassemble his mind.

As he took his last drag of his cigarette, he looked around to see if anyone was watching him. There was only one other car in the parking lot, and it had two flat tires, making Caleb believe that it was just abandoned. He slid to the ground, still leaning against the car he had come there in, and looked at the patch of skin that was revealed through the hole in his pants, just above his right knee. As his cigarette still burned, he stabbed his naked skin with the tip of it, watching ashes disperse around the circle. He felt the heat rise as he self inflicted his leg, and his eyebrows furrowed together as he held back the pain he was causing himself. He counted to fifteen, and then finally took the burned out cigarette from its place, melting his already scarred skin.

He felt nothing. Empty. He wondered why he kept doing it. He didn't feel anything after; not satisfied, not sad, happy. Nothing. He threw his cigarette far away from him and he ran his open palms through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as they searched his surroundings. He felt nothing. He had nothing.

His posture perked up when he heard the sound of a car rolling into the parking lot. He leaned over to look behind his own car as he saw a silver Mercedes barely make it to the middle of the vacant area. He watched as the petite patches of grass coming from cracks in the pavement blew in the diminutive wind the car created as it passed by, before making a loud bang and completely stopping. The blond driver with oversized, brown tinted sunglasses and an excessive amount of jewelry punched the steering wheel, causing a shrill honk, and jumped out of her car mumbling.

"Shit, fuck, damn-it," Caleb could hear her say as she was only a few feet away from him now. "Best car on the lot my ass. I have half a mind to get him fired." Caleb tried to stifle a laugh but found it pointless. He stood, smirking to himself. When he caught full sight of the woman, he figured he could get some money out of her. She was wearing very tall heals which she was stumbling in with all the cracks in the old lot, jeans that he wondered if even allowed a person to bend, and a pink shirt that hung off her bare shoulder. He figured he could fix the car no problem, but charge her a couple hundred bucks for it. She looked so rich she probably wouldn't care.

"You lost?" he asked her, taking a step towards her. He kept his face completely still as a white hot pain went through his body from his pant leg rubbing against his fresh wound.

"I live in this town, jackass. My car broke down and all I'm trying to do is go home," the blond responded, a smirk of her own dancing across her pale, but beautiful face. Caleb somehow found it intriguing.

"I could help you out, but it might cost you," he told her, advancing towards the hood of her car. The blond's expression fell to a cheerless one.

"I, I don't have the money to," she barely voiced, embarrassed upon saying it.

"Right, I'd probably just spend it on booze anyways, right?" Caleb said, thinking he understood what she meant by her comment. He thought she was implying that she was better than him. But how he was wrong.

"No, really, my family is having some money problems," Hanna blurted, unable to stop her mouth. Why was she telling this to a complete stranger. Well, it wasn't like she was going to see him again.

"Well I'll see what I can do," Caleb responded, clearly seeing the truth in her eyes. He opened the hood of her car as steam poured from the new opening. He wasn't sure why he was helping her. He didn't see anything in it for him. Maybe it was because she was having some sort of family troubles, whether it be with money or people in general, but that somehow made him already feel closer to her. Like they already had a connection.

"Hanna," the blond spoke suddenly. The long haired man brought his gaze to hers as they locked eyes. "My name is Hanna," she said quietly, giving a faint smile.

"Didn't ask," Caleb retorted, looking back down to the engine as he fumbled with a few things.

"Well a gentleman would've," Hanna replied angrily. Caleb found it interesting how she had a comeback. It was like he was talking to someone like himself for once.

"Well princess, I'm not a gentleman," he said, his tone deep and quiet. Their eyes were still locked and Hanna raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Caleb," he finally verbalized, giving in to her silent demand. He knocked a few more things around in the engine before he nodded his head to Hanna. She silently moved back into the driver's seat and turned the key. It magically started. Caleb smirked to himself as he slammed the hood closed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well Caleb, I guess I was lucky to meet you," Hanna said, grinning at him with peach colored lips. His heart felt like it was being suffocated when he heard her say this, surprised anyone felt lucky to be around him. He tried to hide his smile as he bent down to the open window, his elbows resting on the edge.

"So you live around here?" He asked, looking into her eyes, being intimidating. But she wasn't fazed. She smirked back and her eyes brightened.

"Sorry, but you're not my type." When she had said it, he saw something flash in her eyes. Something he couldn't explain. It was like she was trying to fight something. The urge to look away when she had said it, perhaps?

"Don't worry, I'm nobody's type," he replied, lifting himself from his leaning position. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he turned to walk back to his own car. Hanna drove away before she could let herself ponder what he had just said. By the time the deli was erased from her rearview mirror, she already felt guilty for leaving someone who seemed so vulnerable completely unaided with nothing but his tainted mind.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading and please review! I do not know if I will continue, so let me know where you think this should go! ;)