I'm alive. I don't know if I'm relieved or angry, but then I hear it.
"Hannah?" comes a voice.
"Clay?" I ask, my voice hoarse.
"Your mom called and told me what happened," he says, reaching to take my hand. "Hannah, I'm so glad you're okay. I'd have really missed you if you had... you know." I realize that he can't say, "If you had killed yourself." It hurts him too much to say those words. It's then that I realize Clay would have been very lost if I'd succeeded. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I just..."
"Hannah, why?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"
I sniffle and choke out, "No, I can't."
"It's okay," he whispers. "We can talk about it when you're ready." His eyes fall perhaps accidentally to the white gauze bandages covering the slashes on my wrists. I can tell he still doesn't understand. If I'm honest, though, do I even? "Clay, it's... complicated," I say, as I can't come up with a better word.
He looks me over, and then he does something I don't anticipate. He climbs onto my hospital bed and, without a word from me, wraps his arms around my slight frame. His touch is warm and so safe, and it's here that I finally break. I sob hard into his shoulder, so hard that I barely feel him rubbing my back. He doesn't speak or ask me to, and I realize I needed this desperately. I just needed someone to hold me. I'm really happy that it's Clay who has. It's here with him that I come to the understanding that I didn't really want to die. I just wanted someone to know how much pain I carried and for them to help me. I've grown so, so tired of carrying it all alone.
A/N: I'm into the second season of 13 Reasons, and this has been playing around in my head, so I thought I'd write a Clay/Hannah fic. Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you soon! Drop me a review if you like!