A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This chapter will have many trigger warnings as we start to get into the depths of what happened to them in the dollhouse.

Trigger warning - there are mentions of attempted suicide, self-harm and violence in this chapter.

Disclaimer: The characters and the show belongs to Pretty Little Liars, I own nothing other than the storyline of this story.

"I think people can be so crushed, so broken, that they'll never be anything more than a fragment of a whole person." - Chevy Stevens

Hanna sat on the bathroom floor, staring down at the razor blade she held in her hand, her eyes watered, the shower was running behind her and she nibbled down on her bottom lip. Caleb and her mother would be standing in her bedroom, painting the walls, having thought she was taking an extremely long shower but instead, she had spent the past twenty minutes sitting there, wondering if she could try it again. Even though she was free from that place, she didn't feel truly free. She slept in the closet, she had nightmares every single night, she hated the dark, she flinched every single time someone touched her and worst of all, she had yet to find her voice.

A part of her had always just assumed that it was temporary – she would leave that place behind and she would be able to talk about it. She would tell Caleb she loved him, she would tell her mom that she missed her, she would be able to thank her friends for their patience and their love over the past three years and she would be able to tell Mona's mother how sorry she was but that she had been holding Mona whilst she took her last breath. She sniffed, holding back the tears as the memory overtook her – it was the year anniversary and A wanted to celebrate it in style. Only, that 'celebration' had ended with Hanna holding a bleeding, pale, terrified Mona as she asked if she truly forgave her. Hanna's answer had been obvious, her last words to her friend had been that she had forgiven her completely and utterly for everything she had done. And then she thanked her, for being there when Alison had 'died' and for being the best friend Hefty Hanna had needed.

Hanna wanted to be able to offer some sort of comfort to the woman she had yet to see, she wanted to be able to comfort those around her but instead, she was stuck in her own silent world with nothing but her memories. She wondered if her best friends were talking about everything that had happened to them in there – if Aria had spoken to her parents about the time she had set fire to her own bedroom and horrifically burned her own arm in an attempt to escape (or kill herself, and all of them, Hanna wasn't too sure which, although Aria insisted it was an escape plan), had Spencer told Toby how she had jumped from a great height and broken her leg once, because A had told her to jump down the 'hole' or Toby would end up in hospital... or worse? Had Emily cried in her mom's arms about how A had told them that she was responsible for Emily's father's death? They had even shown her the newspaper clipping announcing the date of his funeral, Emily had been sick for days afterwards, the girls thought she was going to die. She had been clammy, pale, her body had shook and she committed anything up they tried to give her. Emily was almost the second person they lost in that place.

She shook those thoughts off as she pressed the blade against her skin, a shivering sigh of relief falling from her lips before she smiled. Pain. She had become accustomed to pain in the past few years, it was almost a welcome feeling when she felt it again. These days, it was all she could feel. Her eyes stared at the blood that fell from her arm and at the sound of footsteps, she scurried up, jumping into the shower and closing the curtains just in time for the door to open. Caleb had insisted that she not lock the door in fear that she would collapse or something – the constant reminders that she hadn't eaten repeated to her over and over again until she was tired of hearing all about how much she seemed to be letting Caleb and her mother down since she had gotten back. "Are you okay?" She heard his voice and she knew it should have broken her heart to hear just how concerned he was, she could practically hear the fear in his voice. Instead, it was easy to shrug off as her eyes stared down at the blood that dripped down onto the bottom of the tub.

She wondered if he had forgotten that she couldn't, wouldn't speak and was waiting for her to answer, so after a few moments of silence between them, she slightly opened the shower curtain and looked at him, forcing a smile on her face before he nodded his head and walked back out of the door. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, that she was letting him down still, but he was gone and she would never be able to get those words out.

Hanna moved slowly towards the other side of the room, slowly bending down when no one was looking at her to pick up a piece of glass from the offending object that had just been thrown at them. She couldn't wipe the smile from her face when she felt the sharp piece in the palm of her hand, biting down on her bottom lip before she stood back up and looked at her arguing friends across from her. Spencer had just thrown a mirror across the room in a sudden fit of anger and Emily was trying to calm her down, whilst Aria screamed right back at her. Mona had just died, Hanna and Aria were starting to lose all hope, but Emily still had some left and Spencer... well, she was stubborn. Hanna had bitterly suggested their only way out was a mass suicide, and had managed to start a screaming match between them all without even being involved herself. She had found a weapon she could use, and not even on A, but on herself.

An alarm sounded, signalling that it was time for them to go back to their room and none of them argued. The tension was obvious, they couldn't wait to get away from each other, and Hanna couldn't wait to get into her bedroom and end the entire thing. Once she got to her 'bedroom' door, she looked at all her friends and smiled at them, hoping they would forgive her for being so weak. She had given up a long time ago though, and she was entirely certain there was no other way out. The minute the lights went out, and she was safe in her closet, it was time to put the plan into action. The first of many attempts that ended in complete failure and further punishment.

Hanna stared at her reflection in the mirror, a frown on her face; she had been so certain that her best friends would hate her for being so willing to leave them but instead, they had told her they understood and just held her when she cried. No one mentioned it again, not when it happened a second time, or a third time, or a fourth... and no one commented when Emily tried, when Aria tried and when Spencer tried. Their efforts to leave that place on their own accord were futile, pointless, endless. They tried and they tried and they tried, but nothing worked.

Only now they were out, and she still wanted to die. She wasn't certain if that was irony, or just a tragedy. She was free but she felt anything other than free, she was back home with the people she loved but she just wanted to be back in the dollhouse where she was justified in her sadness and her anger. She didn't even want to be alive, and there was no one there who would get to her in time to stop her. There was no one there who wanted to control her completely, and stop her from making a single move they would disapprove of. She could die and people would be angry, they would be sad but they would move on. Suicide was final, there would be no wondering, nothing unknown... people would move on.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ashley, who walked into the bathroom after realising her daughter had been gone for longer than an hour. Just seeing her standing there, staring at herself in the mirror broke her heart, but she forced a smile anyway and walked over to her. "Hanna?" She spoke before she rested a hand on her back, tears in her eyes every single time when her daughter initially flinched from even the gentlest of touches. "You've been a long time, do you need help?"

Her daughter looked so helpless, but Hanna just shrugged her shoulders before she wrapped the towel around herself a little tighter. The cut on her arm suddenly stung, and it took her a second to realise it was because her mom's fingers were running over it, her fingers curled around her wrist as she stared down at the fresh wound that had marred her daughter's already damaged skin. She gulped, but yanked her arm away, glad when Ashley didn't ask any questions that Hanna knew she wouldn't be able to answer. Instead, she made quick work of grabbing the first aid kit – Hanna could pretend as though she didn't see the tears that Ashley quickly tried to wipe away before she turned back to Hanna and then busied herself with covering the newest imperfection. It would have greatly concerned Hanna at some point, she had been so vain but now it was just something else she could stare at and remember.

First it was a slap across her face.

Then she felt a kick to her side but still her eyes remained closed.

The third thing was something covering her face before she found herself gasping for air when water was being poured over her face. She couldn't breathe, she felt as though she was drowning but it was different, her world was completely dark when she dared to open her eyes until the wash cloth was ripped from her face and she was staring into the eyes of the person who was their very own torturer. "I decide when you die." She heard, before her face was once again covered and water was being poured, this time for longer, and each passing second, breathing seemed to become harder. A wasn't going to let her die of her own accord, A was going to kill her but Hanna had no idea when. Control? What the hell was that meant to be? She hadn't felt it for years.

When it was taken away for the third time, she was pushed forward so she could gasp for air, coughing and spluttering up water. She let out a sob, her eyes closed tightly, waiting for the next bucket of water to be poured over her. Only it never came, instead, came the confusing, loving touch from the person who seemed to both hate and love them so much – her hand gently stroked her cheek and then moved to tuck her hair behind her ears, "You're my doll, you're mine... you're not leaving until I let you."

Hanna couldn't breathe, she felt as though she was right back where she had been around a year and a half before. There was a crushing pain on her chest, making it hard to breathe, until she felt her mother's arms wrap around her, and push Hanna's head onto her chest. Her eyes closed, and she listened to the way her heart was beating, and felt the way her chest would rise and fall, trying to force her own breathing to match hers. She wanted to apologise, she wanted to say so much but the words would never come. Maybe she would never speak again, maybe she would never be able to convey how she really felt to the people who had waited for her and who loved her.

Time seemed to pass slowly, but at the same time, it all blurred into one. Hanna felt as though sometimes, she could be sitting there with Caleb and somehow, she'd be back in the closet the moment she blinked her eyes and it was night time again, and she was just watching him sleep whilst she tried to stop herself from having nightmares. He knew, by now, that she didn't sleep on the mattress with him, but he didn't push her to either – she wondered if the two of them were taking lessons or something in how to deal with traumatised people because they seemed so understanding, patient, loving. It seemed as though one minute she had been listening to her mom's heart beating and the next, she was in her bedroom staring at the newly painted walls after her mom had helped her to get dressed. As she looked around the room, she thought of the three people she had once been so willing to leave behind but now, it felt as though a huge part of herself was missing. She hadn't even spoken to them in so long, after spending three years of her life with them, not seeing them for almost three weeks seemed impossible.

Hanna pulled out her phone and bit down on her lip as she sent a text to her mom; I need Spencer, can I go? She never got any texts back, it was almost as though they were being subtle in their attempts to try and get her to talk but nothing ever worked. Ashley nodded her head, asking her if she wanted her to take her but Hanna shook her head quickly, she needed to walk, she needed to feel the fresh air against her face and Spencer's house wasn't too far from her. The media had grown bored by Hanna's non-compliance in their constant questions and Rosewood was such a small place, the media would never get away with hiding in the bushes. But still, it was the first time she had been out of the house on her own, and the moment she had stepped onto the pavement, she wondered if she had made the right decision as she looked back at her house. One foot in front of the other, that was all she needed to do – and it was something she repeated to herself as she walked a familiar path to Spencer's house. It was a journey she had not made in such a long time but one she had made far too many times in the past.

Rosewood hadn't changed, although she had expected it to – she had changed so much, it only seemed fitting that her surroundings should undergo the same. Her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes skittish, her body tense. She had meant to take it all in, to walk slowly, but instead she found herself walking as quickly as her exhausted body could manage; the sooner she made it to Spencer's house the better. And then there it was, the house she hadn't seen in years. She prayed and hoped that Spencer was still there, that her parents hadn't whisked her as far from Rosewood as she possibly could be. She needed to see her best friend, she needed to feel normal for a moment – Spencer was one of the people who was going through the exact same thing as she was, and thus, she understood. Caleb and Ashley tried but they couldn't understand, they hadn't been there, they hadn't seen the things they had. They had been through so much but it would never be the same; she could see it in their eyes, the pain and the fear of the unknown things that had happened to her and her friends that they would never know about. But then Spencer's eyes reflected her own, along with Aria's and Emily's, things they would never tell anyone else in order to protect themselves. Some of the things that had happened in there were best to be kept a secret – the deaths they were responsible for whilst they were in there, the things they had done to themselves, to each other.

She had to knock on the door before she changed her mind, and she took a step back the moment Melissa opened the door. "Can I help you?" This was when her silence got hard, her hand shook and she opened her mouth, before she took a deep breath and took out her phone, typing out the name of the person she was there to see with a question mark. The older of the Hastings siblings just shrugged her shoulders and opened the door a little further so Hanna would follow her in, "She's in the sitting room." Hanna just nodded her head and moved in that direction, smiling when she saw Spencer sitting there with a book on her lap. Only, Spencer's concentration proved a problem because Hanna didn't want to startle her by just approaching her, she knew how that felt.

"Oh, Hanna!" She looked up to see Veronica Hastings standing in the kitchen and it was enough to make Spencer jump up and run over to her best friend. Neither of them had to say a word to each other as their arms wrapped around the other and their eyes fell to a close; this was what true safety felt like. She knew Caleb and her mom would do anything in their power to protect her but Spencer, Aria and Emily were the only three people who made her feel as though she was going to be okay. Even if she knew that wasn't true.

They stayed like that for a few moments, before Spencer pulled back and looked at Hanna, "Not a word, huh?" She slightly teased, but Hanna just shook her head and bit down on her lip, before her friend took her hand and told her mom she would be upstairs. Once they got to her room, Hanna was relieved to find it very much in the same state as her own had been – the smell of fresh paint filled the air, and the very little furnishing that was in the room appeared to be brand new. It made her feel normal to know that someone else had felt the exact same way as she had about the cell they had been forced into. Her eyebrow raised though at the choice of colour Spencer had gone with – a horrid, bright yellow. The look on her face must have said it all, because when the brunette moved to sit on her bed she just let out an awkward laugh, "I wanted something that would make me smile, I guess. After staring at those dreary, awful walls for so long... I needed something bright."

Hanna nodded her head in understanding, taking out her phone and typing out a message to Spencer; I went for all black, she showed her with a small smirk and Spencer let out a laugh. They all had different ways of coping with everything; they had been different in the dollhouse, they had found their own ways to cope with the trauma of being there and now, they were each finding their own ways to cope with being home and locked inside a world of people who had no clue what they had gone through. "Typical," Was all she said, smiling when Hanna joined her on the bed as they had done a hundred times before when Charlotte was feeling nice and would allow them to spend time together. Hanna felt most comfortable around Spencer, although she couldn't explain why. Emily was more on edge than she was and Aria cried more than she did, but Spencer was... comfortable.

She moved to lay on her side and Spencer wrapped her arms around her, and Hanna's hands rested on her hands, "Do you think about any of the good times?" Spencer whispered, and Hanna bit down on her lip, "I mean, I know they weren't truly good times but there were times we did smile. Moments we laughed, seconds that we forgot where we were... do you think about the good times, too? Because sometimes, I wonder if maybe we were just better off there, you know? We all knew what was going to happen, we didn't have to look into the eyes of people who tried to understand but never could, we were all on the same page. We didn't have to see a therapist, we didn't have to be forced to heal, we didn't have to see our names all over the internet and the pages of newspaper..." She sighed and hid her face in Hanna's hair as the blonde just listened, "Maybe we don't have good memories but at least we were..." Even Spencer couldn't think of the word but she knew what she meant, inside the walls of the dollhouse, they didn't have to pretend to be anything other than terrified, they could fight and they could scream and no one would look at them as though they were crazy. "I have nightmares... but I barely sleep now, I woke everyone in the house up screaming once and I can still remember the looks on their faces, so I try not to sleep too much, or not long enough to enter a dream state at least."

Hanna turned to face her best friend, her fingers moving over her cheek as she just listened to Spencer talk, wondering if she had spoken to anyone else about this. At further examination, she could tell the lack of sleep was deeply effecting her, but she wasn't one to talk. The nightmares didn't matter when they were in their hell, their screams would echo the empty hallways every single night but no one would comment. Now, they had people who would be greatly effected by the sounds of the people they loved having a horrific nightmare. Their foreheads pressed together, and tears fell down their face, in a silent understanding of everything they had gone through.

A few moments passed before Spencer spoke again, and their eyes met in an understanding that only two other people would be a part of, "Do you still want to kill yourself?" Hanna only gave her a small nod of her head and a grimace that followed, "Yeah, me too." Spencer mumbled, before a bitter laugh followed – it had gotten to a point that she had thought, even if they had escaped, they were broken beyond repair.

It had been an accident. Or rather, an unplanned incident. Hanna still held the baseball bat in her hands. It had been three years, and over the years, A had become increasingly comfortable with giving them weapons and being in the same room as them with the confidence that none of them would do anything. It had been Hanna's turn to whack Spencer as hard as she could but already, she had forgotten what Spencer was meant to have done, if she had even done anything. Once, it had been actions led to consequences but now it just seemed to be a sick enjoyment. Emily had been first, and then Aria, and then Spencer was encouraging Hanna to do what she needed to do. They should have been used to dolling out punishments to each other by now, she had hit Spencer before and Spencer had hit her before and they had done worse things. But there was something different about that moment.

Spencer looked so... done. As though she didn't care what happened to her anymore, and if Spencer had given up, Hanna knew that there was nothing else that could be done. She had raised the bat, looked Spencer in the eye before she swung it around completely and smacked the blonde bitch as hard as she possibly could. First in the side and then, when she was unbalanced enough, in the head. Blood splattered on her, and around the room, the blood of the person she hated.

Spencer's calling of her name snapped her out of it, and she dropped the bat to move to unchain her best friend. Aria was just staring, Emily was in the corner of the room rocking herself back and forth, repeating to herself that it was over but Spencer... she walked over to what Hanna presumed to be the dead body of the person they all loathed. Slowly, the brunette bent down and pressed her fingers to A's neck, "She's not dead." She announced, slowly turning Charlotte over as she stared down at her. Hanna had no idea what Spencer was going to do, until her best friends hand was over Charlotte's mouth and then her fingers pressed against her nose.

No one said a word as Charlotte's body shook. Emily stood up and Aria stopped crying, their eyes all focused on Spencer, taking in what was happening. What Hanna had started and Spencer had finished. She was gone, it was over, they were free.

Hanna's hands ran through Spencer's hair, realising her attachment to her best friend over the other two who had been through the same things they had, was because of their shared involvement in the death of another human being, which was something no one else, not even Aria and Emily, would be able to share with them.