Thanks for the response to the last chapter. It was such a difficult one to write, playing with different characters to usual. Although I obviously HATE Spencer and Caleb together, I don't dislike her as a character in her own right, and so tried to write that part, and subsequent ones, as not being black and white as to who is in the wrong. Caleb wasn't squeaky clean in getting with his ex's friend either, much as I'd like him to be! But anyway, back to Haleb now :) (well 50% of... sorryyyy!) More soon
13.
Someone's calling his name. A man. They're shaking his shoulders, tapping his cheek. He tries to respond but his body won't cooperate. Everything aches. His limbs feel like lead.
"Caleb, wake the hell up!"
With every bit of strength he has, he fights to open an eye. He manages to open it just wide enough to see Toby's face hovering above him, blurry. Behind him, is the sky. He can't remember the last time he saw the sky.
He tries to ask after Hanna but his mouth won't move. His heart starts to race. He needs to check that they got her out of there too, he needs them to know how bad she was, how ill. He needs to know that she's okay. He tries again but the world is spinning. The fresh air doesn't seem to be reaching his lungs. With a grunt, his head slumps sideways and the sky turns to black.
"No. Fuck. Don't do that!" Toby says.
It's the last thing Caleb hears.
Sometime later, a buzz of noise fills his ears. He frowns. He can't tell if it's real or in his own head. He blinks open his eyes. The lights above him are so bright they hurt. He's flat on his back. There's an oxygen mask over his face. Someone somewhere tells him he's in the hospital, that he's safe now. He doesn't care. It doesn't matter where he is, only that Hanna's there too. He tries to ask, but all that comes out is a groan. Someone takes his hand. He doesn't know who it is, but he knows it's not Hanna. Her hand's smaller than this, softer.
"Try to relax. We're here to help."
But he doesn't want or need their help. He wants and needs to find Hanna. He tugs his hand out of their hold and grabs at the oxygen mask, pulling it down over his chin.
"Hanna?"
The nurse silently detangles his fingers from the mask and replaces it. "You need to keep than on for now."
"How's Hanna?" he manages from beneath it, muffled.
"Don't try to talk, Honey."
He tries instead to sit upright but a firm hand presses down on his shoulder, keeping him flat. It makes him feel like he's back in that room, strapped down and useless.
He blinks away tears of frustration and tries again to sit up. He's got to get out of here. Got to find Hanna. But this time, even more hands swoop onto him, holding him down, preventing him from reaching her. "Get off me!"
"Relax. We're here to look after you."
They don't understand. He's fine. Or he would be fine if he could get to Hanna. He throws an arm sideways in search of something to hold onto and drag himself up. His fist closes on air. He kicks out instead, sending pain shooting through his broken leg, but knowing it will be worth it if he can get them away from him for long enough to roll off the bed.
"Try to stay still. Please. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep on struggling."
Another voice chimes in. Male. "I need to set this leg. If he doesn't cooperate, we'll have to sedate him."
The thought of being sedated makes him want to escape more than ever. He's had enough of being drugged and under someone else's control but more than that, if they knock him out, he's got no chance of getting to Hanna. He takes a moment to summon as much energy as he can muster and then starts to fight.
By thrashing about with his arms and legs he manages to keep them at bay for long enough to reach a sitting position and he's just working out how to get from the bed when he hears a voice say do it, and someone takes a firm grip on his arm and holds it still for another person to approach with a syringe.
"No, no," he says, "I just-" The needle stings as it pierces his skin "No."
His body grows heavier and there's nothing he can do to object as they lower him back to the mattress. The room blurs and turns darker each time he blinks. As he's defeated by unconsciousness, he's thinking of Hanna.
The next time he wakes, he's alone. He's surrounded by tubes and wires, in his arm, on his finger, across his chest and up his nose. He's propped up on some pillows so has a better view of the room now, a hospital ward, three other patients but none of them Hanna. He has a hospital gown draped upon him and a cast encasing his leg. That's no good, he can't get to Hanna if he can't walk.
"Excuse me," he calls to a passing nurse. His throat's dry and the words hurt as they pass through it. "I need to go see my gir- my friend," he tells her. "Hanna Marin. She'd have been brought in at the same time as me."
The nurse stops by his bedside, her eyes flickering to the monitor before looking at him. "I'm sorry, you're not well enough to go anywhere at the moment."
"I'm fine!"
"It's not going to happen," she says, gently but firm. "How about I get an update on her for you?"
"So she is here? She's okay?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know. I'll can find out, just-" A monitor at the other side of the room starts to beep loudly. "I'm sorry, I've got to…" she starts to rush towards the patient. "I'll find out."
He throws his head back against the pillows. It was a bad move, the throbbing in his temple increases. He scrunches his eyes shut.
"Caleb?"
He looks up. Ashley Marin is just a few feet from his bed. She's one the few so-called parent figures to have showed him some kindness, and so the concern on her face nearly tips him over the edge.
"How's Hanna?"
He's not sure she even heard his question. She looks like she's in a trance, staring at him as if she's seeing a ghost.
"No-one will tell me anything," he continues. "I tried to find out for myself and they- they drugged me to stop me."
She blinks. "I know. I heard," she says, and then it's like the old Ashley is back. She moves to his bedside and perches on the edge of the nearby chair. "Tell me you won't give them reason to do that again."
He has no intention of promising anything like that. He'll do whatever he needs to to try and keep Hanna safe. "How is she?"
As he waits for an answer, he takes in Ashley's red eyes and trembling hands. A knot forms in his stomach.
"She's alive," Ashley says. "She-" she clasps a hand over her mouth as if she's reliving a trauma all over again and takes several steadying breaths. "She's still unconscious. She has a- a machine breathing for her because of the damage to her lungs and…"
His heart is pounding so loudly he misses half of what she says. "But she'll be okay?"
She nods but the forced smile that comes with it, extracts any reassurance from the nod. "The doctor says she has a really good chance."
"I need to see her," he says, trying to sit up. The gown falls from his shoulders, he gets tangled in the monitor wires and in frustration rips one of the pads off his chest. The machine changes its beep. Before he can start pulling his IV line, Ashley places a firm hand on his shoulder and coaxes him into lying back.
"You need to rest," she says.
"I'll rest once I've seen her."
She wordlessly replaces the monitoring pad he'd removed, seemingly getting the right position as the machine returns to its steady beep, and pulls his gown back up to his shoulders, hiding the bruising on his chest. She's treating him like she's his mother again and a small part of him wants to let her. The bigger part of him, has a different priority.
"I need-"
"Caleb, stop," she says. "Even I haven't been allowed in to see her yet. They're making her comfortable first and then a nurse will come and get me."
He digs a finger in the corner of his eye. "You don't understand."
"Don't I? I am her mother."
"I know, but I- I need to… I told her I wouldn't leave her and I-" There's a lump in his throat and it becomes harder to speak.
"Caleb-"
"I tried to protect her, I promise! I tried to stop her getting hurt but I… and it was always one step ahead and- and I…" The words I failed her stick in his throat and he breaks off, covering his face with his hands. He feels the dampness of tears against his palms and keeps his face hidden, hoping that somehow she doesn't notice.
But then he feels arms around him, drawing him into a hug. He lets out a shuddering sob against her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whimpers, "I should have been able to protect her, I- I tried-"
"I know you did."
"She has to be okay."
"We both know how stubborn Hanna is. She's not going to let this get the better of her."
"You really think so?"
She moves her hands to his shoulders and holds him away from her so she can look him in the eye. "I have to," she says. "And you have to too."
He nods, understanding the meaning. They're not giving up on her.
Ashley takes a packet of tissues out of her purse, taking one for herself and passing him the packet.
He wipes at his eyes. "Thanks," he says. "I don't mean for this-" he indicates his damp tissue, "for… you know."
"You don't have to thank me, Caleb."
"I do."
As Hanna's Mom, she has every right to be mad at him for not stopping her daughter getting hurt or resent for being okay when she's not and instead she'd comforted him in a way that even his own parent's never have. He stares down at his hands, his fingernails still grubby, knuckles still scuffed from the punches he'd thrown and wishes he was still unconscious, rather than Hanna.
"What happened to the two of you?" Ashley asks.
He bites down on the inside of his lip. "Please don't ask me that."
She exhales deeply. "I'm sorry. I know it's painful. I wouldn't ask unless I…" she dabs at her tearstained cheeks again. "I need to know what to expect for when- for when Hanna wakes. I need to know how I can support her."
He thinks of Hanna's injuries, the burns across her back, arms and legs, the bloody pulp A turned her fingers into. He could prepare Ashley for the sight of them, but he doesn't know how to explain how she can help with the non-physical traumas. He doesn't even have the answer himself.
"Just do what you always do," he says.
He can see Ashley's on the verge of asking another question, but their attention is diverted by Spencer half running across the room.
She comes to an abrupt stop at his bedside. "Oh my God, what has it done to you?"
He balls the tissue into his fist. "It's nothing."
She sinks on to the edge of the mattress and places a hand on the edge of his jaw, turning his face from side to side to examine it.
"Don't," he mutters.
"Sorry, it's just…" Rather than finishing her sentence she dips her head and leans in towards him.
Thankfully, it's his cheek that she kisses rather than his lips. He doesn't know what to do. Their relationship doesn't feel real anymore. Nothing feels real except him and Hanna. Spencer adjusts her position so that she's sat beside him and, as she joins their hands, he accidentally makes eye contact with Ashley. It feels awkward, like he's cheating on her daughter right in front of her.
"We just heard about Hanna," Spencer says to Ashley. "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"
Ashley visibly swallows down a lump in her throat. "I keep thinking of Ted, my ex. He would suggest we all pray."
Spencer nods. "Yeah, yeah. I can do that."
"You're not religious," he reminds her. It's not the point, he knows it's not, so he doesn't know why he said it.
There's an awkward silence.
"Neither am I," Ashley says. "But that's not to say I haven't been praying to every God under the sun since I got here."
Spencer squeezes his hand. It's all he can do not to pull away.
"I- I think I'll go and check whether I can see Hanna yet," Ashley says.
"Send her my love," Spencer replies.
"I will do." She gathers her coat and bag and turns to head out the door.
"Ashley," he blurts out.
She turns to face him and suddenly he doesn't know what to say.
She gives him a small smile. "I'll tell her you're thinking of her too."
He nods. It's more than that. Far more. But that will do for now while there's an audience.
Once she's left, he risks a glance at Spencer. He recognises the dark marks under her eyes. She's clearly not slept for days and he feels a sudden surge of guilt.
"Are you really okay?" she asks.
He nods. "You?"
"Yeah. I'm not the one in a hospital bed."
He doesn't reply.
"What happened to your leg?"
"Doesn't matter." He shuffles, trying to make himself as small beneath the gown as possible so that she doesn't see any of the other injuries on his body. He doesn't want her sympathy.
There's a long, awkward silence, during which she seems to visibly deflate.
"Hanna will be okay."
"Even you can't know that for sure."
"Caleb…" she breaks off.
"What?"
"It's good to see you."