A/N: Thank you for the reviews – to those who have asked, Hanna will get her voice back but I don't want to rush it just yet. I have the perfect idea coming up in the future but if you have any ideas on the first words Hanna will talk, then please leave them in the reviews!
Disclaimer – I own nothing other than the general plot of this story, but the characters belong to the creators of Pretty Little Liars.
"You're supposed to walk around with this perpetual bubble over your head thinking happy thoughts and then everything is going to be sunshine and roses. Nope, sorry, don't think so. You can be as happy as you've ever been in your life, and shit is still going to happen. But it doesn't just happen. It knocks you sideways and crushes you into the ground, because you were stupid enough to believe in sunshine and roses." - Chevy Stevens
It was staring again, of that Hanna was sure. Perhaps it had only been the one text and maybe she could have just let that go had it not been for everything they had already gone through. She felt sick at the thought of someone else being after them – maybe it would never end, maybe their entire lives would be a cycle of being stalked, tortured, and then expected to just live with it. A never-ending cycle that seemed to have started with Alison, or maybe her own father when she truly thought about it.
Hanna wrapped her arms a little tighter around herself, sat in Spencer's yard, surrounded by her best friends and their respective partners (or almost partners, she supposed, in Emily and Alison's case), she didn't take her eyes from the way Caleb brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled sharply, before he breathed out the smoke with a satisfied look on his face with every drag he took. They had all fallen into an unsteady silence after the discussion of the newest text had fallen into the awkward staring at their phones as though they were waiting for the second text to arrive at any given second. Hanna's eyes finally moved to the people she was surrounded by – Toby had his arm wrapped around Spencer, and his lips pressed against her head, in the gentle sunlight, Hanna could see the scar on Spencer's cheekbone that had been given to her as punishment for refusing to partake in a game. Her hair was scraped back, her face was pale and Hanna could see her fingernails had been bitten down to the skin. Whilst Toby's arms were wrapped around her, Spencer's arms remained limply in her lap as she stared down at the grass, a frown on her face – a tell tale sign that she was in deep thought about something and Hanna knew what it was. There were two people responsible for the death of Charlotte DiLaurentis, but Spencer had been the one to end it completely and Hanna wondered how terrified she was of whatever was going to happen when this new person found out.
Her blue eyes met with those of Emily's chocolate ones for a moment, before she bit down on her lip and snuggled further into Caleb's side as his arm tightened around her. Emily just looked so... lost, Hanna didn't know how else to describe it. Her eyes were glazed over, a blank expression always on her face as she seemed to stare at something that nobody else could see. Her hand was in Alison's, but she didn't seem as though she was there. At least Emily contributed the conversation though, Hanna bitterly thought as she frowned at her own thoughts, and, as though he could sense the increased tension in her body, Caleb pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered that he loved her in her ear, which never failed to make her smile.
After a moment, she glanced over at where Ezra and Aria were sat; as far away from each other as either of them could possibly could get with the little circle eight of them had formed. Their fingertips still touched though, but they didn't look at each other and Hanna wished she could ask Aria what had happened in the three years since they had gone that would make the two of them seem so far apart. There were deep, dark circles beneath both their eyes and Aria had attempted to cover up how pale and exhausted she was with poorly applied make-up – maybe Hanna and Alison would have pointed it out once but neither of them said a single word about the way any of them looked, after so long it seemed to be more of a relief that they were there at all.
With a small smile on her face, the blonde tilted her head up to meet Caleb's lips, savouring the taste of his cigarette against her own lips for just a moment before she pulled back with a light blush on her cheeks when he breathed out a puff of smoke, a small smirk on his face. The fact she found him smoking completely hot was never something she would express in writing or voice, but it was obvious by the fascinated look on her face whenever she watched him. And considering he smoked around fifteen to twenty cigarettes a day, she realised that was a lot of time she could be found staring at him but he didn't seem to mind.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of Alison finally saying something that ended the slightly awkward silence that had fallen around half an hour before, "So, not that it matters to any of us... but are you going to tell us who murdered Charlotte?" Spencer and Hanna's eyes met for a second before they both looked back down, biting down on their lips before Emily and Aria looked between the two women – no one had to say a word, the reactions were obvious enough and suddenly, Caleb's body tensed. Perhaps he hadn't thought his girlfriend had it in her before, that she would be safe because she wasn't the person this new A was after, but now she was.
"Right, well... that information doesn't go any further than this." He muttered, his arm tightening even more around the blonde before he brought her even closer to him until she was practically sitting on his lap. There was an anger in his voice, and she wondered if it was aimed at her or the situation they had found themselves in – maybe she was the person who had been through hell and back but he had been on the other side. He had been waiting for her, he had been searching for her, he had been in a car crash because of her and maybe other things she had no idea about. Maybe she didn't talk at all, but he never mentioned about what had happened whilst she was gone. They barely spoke of the past, or of the last three years; when he did talk to her, it was to remind her how he felt about her, and how much he had missed her. He would talk about the fact she hadn't eaten that day, or he would ask her if she was okay, he would hold her close and mutter the things she needed to hear from him in her ear whenever she cried.
"There's no point other people getting hurt for something... we did." Spencer finally spoke, and Hanna looked up at her, "Really, it was more something I did," The brunette continued with a small shrug of her shoulders, "Hanna just gave me the opportunity I needed to do what I had already planned on doing. So, if this... new A, or whatever we're meant to call them needs someone's head on a stick then it should be mine." Hanna quickly shook her head, her eyes wide, it was not her intent to make Spencer take all the blame for something they had both done. The only innocent people who had been in that room that day were Aria and Emily, so whatever punishment that was to be faced for murdering the person who had done so many awful things to her, it was something she and Spencer had to face together.
Spencer met her eyes, before she let out a small sigh and nodded her head, "Hanna and I are more than prepared to take whatever have coming." She finally settled on; Hanna half-wondered if Emily and Aria would protest, or if they were just too exhausted to even argue about it anymore. Hanna and Spencer were the only people this person was after, so it was their problem. A few moments passed and this time, Aria spoke, "No, we keep our mouths shut about this, this person can do whatever they want to us but if we keep silent, they'll get bored..." She was hopeful, and Hanna could feel the same hope rising inside her as well – maybe this person just wanted a reaction and nothing more.
"We need to talk about what we all came here to talk about," Alison's voice was serious, and her eyes glanced around at those who had gathered in Spencer's yard. "Do you all have lawyers?" The four women nodded their heads, matching frowns crossing their features because none of them truly understood why the police were so insistent on talking to them about everything that had happened and why they needed a lawyer there with them. "Have you all settled on a story about how Charlotte died?" This time, they shook their heads and Hanna took a deep breath; they had just agreed not to talk about it, right? It was one of those secrets they were meant to have kept until someone was insisting on finding out which of them had committed murder.
Caleb took a deep breath and lit his fifth cigarette since they had gotten there, "When they ask, tell them that you did it. Each of you, the information can't get back to whoever is behind this... I don't trust them, I don't trust what can be found out from those statements. So, be careful with what you say, we don't know who's reading those words." She could sense that bitterness and anger in his voice, making her pull away so she could look at him and she wondered for a moment, how many times he had been interviewed by the police in the three years since she had been stolen from him. How many times must they have let him down for him to hate them so much? And for Toby to give up the badge he had once been so proud to wear?
"You just need to tell them what happened, what she did to you, go over the facts, keep it brief." Toby muttered, "I don't know what they want from you guys, in my eyes the case is closed but... whatever they want, it can't be good so just.. watch your backs in there." There was another short burst of silence before Spencer started to laugh, quickly joined by Aria and Emily before Hanna finally joined in with a small, sad smile on her face. There was a shared look of confusion on the faces of their loved ones, staring at them as though the four women were crazy before Spencer wiped at the tears that had fallen down her face once she had calmed down, "We get kidnapped for three years and Rosewood PD blame us, wow this town is fucked up."
After that, the rest of the day passed too quickly. Hanna found herself sitting in an interview room with their joint lawyer, and the three other girls she had spent so long with. She played with the ends of her hair, biting down on her lip when her eyes met with the eyes of Detective Tanner before she quickly looked down and took a deep breath. This was the moment she had been avoiding for the month since she had been home; she was surprised they had been allowed to put it off for so long because Tanner and Holbrook seemed more than determined to get this out of the way. Maybe it was all for innocent reasons, maybe they wanted to tie up loose ends on an investigation they had failed on. They could have found them, they could have looked harder, they could have been better at their jobs and the three years wouldn't have been the three years of torture. She wondered if she lived somewhere like New York, or Boston, would the Police have found them sooner? Or was A really that good at keeping it all a secret?
The past few weeks had been wasted by their parents, and their lawyer arguing that the girls should be allowed to interview together because they had been through it together. They could draw support in one another, it would be easier for them to fill in the gaps because one could remember something that another didn't. Eventually, the police relented and Hanna felt more comfortable with her hand clasped into Spencer's and Emily's with her eyes focused on the table in front of them. The questions were what she expected – what happened when you were taken? Was there just the one kidnapper? Did you only see Charlotte the entire time you were there? Were there any escape opportunities? What happened to you in there?
Her friends kept their answers short and to the point – they had been in the back of the prison van on their way to court, one minute they had been talking whilst they were being driven to the court accused of a crime that had never even happened and the next, the van came to a stop before smoke filled the air and then they remembered nothing before they woke up in what looked like their bedrooms in their own respective homes. As far as they were aware, only one person was behind the kidnapping and their torture. They only saw Charlotte the entire time they were there. Only the opportunities they made for themselves and each one of them failed horrifically. What didn't happen to them in there?
She could feel eyes on her, it had been over an hour since they had gotten there and she could sense that they were just waiting for her to say something. "Hanna?" She finally heard and she gulped as she looked up, "Are you going to contribute?" She felt sick, the patronising tone in Tanner's voice was enough to make the panic rise inside of her as she shook her head in response. She had nothing to say, she couldn't say anything – the girls knew what she had been through, she could write down what she had been through if she needed to but she had to remember to keep it brief. There was no reason for each of them to sit there and recount every horrible, evil thing that Charlotte had forced them to do, or the things she had done to them. Why should they speak of the evils they had committed against each other and against the innocent people on the outside who had no clue what was going on?
"H-Hanna doesn't... she can't talk." Spencer glared at the woman in front of her and her hand tightened in Hanna's. There was a hope inside of her that they would just drop it there and move on, that they would slide a piece of paper and a pen in front of her and let her write what she needed to down. She could answer their questions, she could tell them whatever they needed but only in writing.
"Yes, we know... selective mutism, isn't it?" There was that condescending tone, this time from the man she had once kissed as he slammed his paper down. She could remember the last time she had spoken to him, the crowbar she had slammed down onto his arm in the similar manner he had placed those papers down on the table in front of them. There was an unresolved, angry tension between the two of them since that had happened but he couldn't destroy her like that. He couldn't speak to her, or about her in that way and expect her to be okay. Their argument was nothing compared to the hell she had been through since, although he wasn't ready to let go of the awful bruise she must have given him that night.
"Brought on by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, yes." Emily answered, cocking her eyebrow as she settled her glare on the two members of the Rosewood Police force in front of her. "Are you really so incompetent at your jobs that you don't understand the effects trauma can have on the mind? And trust me, what we went through was a severe trauma and if she doesn't want to talk, or if she can't talk, then there is nothing you can say or do to change that. Hanna will talk when she's ready to, but until then, why don't you just hand her your pen and a piece of paper and she'll tell you whatever the hell it is you need to know?" The tension rose in the room, and the three women next to her stared at the detectives across from them with a look that they hoped would shut them up.
Only, it didn't. The attention was on the blonde and it only served to make her heart thump harder against her chest, her palms were sweaty, she had to let go of the hands that had been keeping her in the room so she could wipe them on her jeans. She took a deep, shaking breath, her eyes tearing up as she bit down on her lip and refused to look up to meet the look of the two people she could feel staring at her. "We can't leave this room until Hanna tells us in her own words what happened." Hanna rested her head in her hands and shook her head, gripping at her hair as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The room was spinning, and she was struggling to breathe – there had been only one person who had tried to force her to talk and right then, she was struggling to remember where she was.
"We know you can talk, Hanna, we've heard you plenty of times, you've made your opinions quite well known in the past. So, what are you trying to hide right now?" They carried on, until Spencer slammed her hand down on the table and stood up, displaying an anger Hanna had not seen in her since the dollhouse which only brought her right back to that place she had tried to avoid.
A gripped onto Hanna's long, blonde hair and slammed her head against the floor, "Tell me to stop!" She was being screamed at, her head being lifted once again before it was slammed back down onto the concrete floor. Blood poured down her face, but still, she didn't say a word – this was a game A liked to play with her. Trying to force her into talking because the fact that Hanna didn't say a word was what irritated her the most. She may have wanted them to be broken, but she loved the reactions she got from them.
Then there was a kick to her back, before a foot pressed down on the back of her neck, "Tell me to stop." Hanna just smirked as she closed her eyes; it hurt like hell, but if she kept it there until she passed out or even until she died, then Hanna still won. Not talking was the only control she had and despite the fact her body was screaming at her to tell her to stop, her mind was telling her that she had to cling onto the last bit of control she had.
"Is this an interrogation or a victim account?!" Spencer's voice was loud, tense and irritated as she stood over the detectives with a glare on her face that was met with blank stares. "Why don't you sit down, Spencer? We're just trying to get a full account on everything that has happened for the past three years – not everyone believed you were kidnapped, you know?" None of them could stop what was happening, as Spencer lunged over the table with a sudden scream, her chair being thrown back in a sudden fit of rage that matched the kind Hanna had seen so many times – the kind of anger that was saved for nobody other than A.
It took Emily a moment, the shock on her face apparent as she grabbed Spencer by the waist and held her back. Aria moved quickly to put her hands over her ears as her eyes squeezed shut and she whispered to herself that she was going to be okay, she was in Rosewood, she was back home and she was going to be okay.
"Say something!" The masked woman in front of her pushed Hanna back, so her chair fell and the back of her head slammed against the floor this time. The world was spinning, she felt as though she was going to throw up – it had only been two days since the last attack and A was not going to stop until all of her control was gone. She wanted there to be nothing left and having nothing left included doing exactly what A wanted them to do. And right then, A wanted nothing more than for Hanna to speak because control was not a thing that existed there. They weren't meant to control anything, not even the words that left their mouths.
A loud crack echoed around the room when a large, metal object collided with her ribs and she let out a sharp gasp, the tears started to fall and bit back the scream that longed to fall from her lips. She wasn't going to utter a word, it was all she had.
The blonde wrapped her arms around herself after she brought her knees to her chest, letting out a sob as she hid her face in her knees and shook her head. Their victim statement had turned into a mess – Aria was rocking herself back and forth as she tried to tell herself she was not back in the dollhouse, Emily was breathing heavily as she tried to hold Spencer back and Spencer was right back where she had been, ready to attack whoever came near her or her friends and their lawyer just looked pale and confused in the corner of the room – it should have been a simple, and easy interview but anarchy had ensued and when the door slammed open, she knew it was only going to get worse.
There was a fire in Caleb's eyes, matched by Toby's when they both walked into the room – they could hear the screams from outside where they had been waiting and when both the men saw the scene they had run into, they knew their suspicions of the Police force that Toby had once been pride to serve, were correct. "What the fuck did you do?!" Caleb shouted, grabbing Holbrook by the collar before he threw him back against the wall, "Stay the hell away from them, if I even catch you breathing the same air as any of them, I will happily spend the rest of my life in jail." His threat wasn't one that had to be spoken any clearer than that, when he finally let go of the man, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. "We're going, and they're done answering your pointless questions."
He didn't hesitate to move over to his girlfriend, lifting her up with ease before he walked out of there, his lips pressed against Hanna's ear as he whispered to her, "You're going to be okay, you never have to go back there. I love you... you're here, you're home, Hanna."
The door slammed behind her and Hanna found herself in a tiny, cell-like room. "You can come out when you tell me you want to," She heard the irritating voice of the person who had forced her into the room just a second before – it was dark, empty except for a mattress in the corner of the room and an old blanket. Slowly, she moved over to sit on top of the lumpy mattress and snuggled as far into the corner as she possibly could as she kept her eyes on the door in front of her. She was going to be in there for a long time and she had no idea if she even cared about rotting in that place.
Later that night, Caleb ran his fingers through Hanna's hair as she rested her head in his lap and closed her eyes. She had calmed down just an hour before and he had heard from his friends that Spencer had finally fallen asleep after pacing for hours, and ranting about everything the police had made them feel in there, Aria had to be sedated before she finally fell asleep and Emily had barely spoken a word about what had happened in that room. Hanna had been sobbing in his arms for hours after it had happened, Ashley had been on the phone to anyone who would listen to her complaints before she had set about typing up email after email. Caleb had managed to get Hanna out into the yard, into the fresh air and the two of them had been sat on the grass since with her head in his lap. Once she was asleep, he pulled the book from beside him and took another cigarette from the pack before he turned to the page he needed.
Dear Caleb,
Do you think I'll be broken forever?
I miss the person I was before all of this happened, but I don't know how to get that person back. I want, more than anything, to be normal again but I don't think I ever will. After you've seen the things I have and been through what I have, is it even possible to be okay again?
Not talking gives me the only control I have left. I had this power that A couldn't take from me and she tried, god she tried. She tried to control me in every single way possible, she tried her best to make me speak again but still, I stayed strong and now, when I need my voice more than ever before, it won't come out. She slammed my head against the floor and screamed at me to tell her to stop, she kicked me, she held me against the floor, she beat me until I thought I was going to die but still I didn't say a word.
So, she locked me up in this tiny cell. It was completely dark, not a shed of light shone through any cracks in the door. There was just a mattress and a blanket and every so often, she would open the door to give me a glass of water and a stale piece of bread. Just enough to keep me alive, even if I didn't want to be. I guess I could have died in there if I had wanted to but when I imagined my suicide, I wanted it to be messy and controlled by no one other than me. It would have been too easy to die of starvation or dehydration and I doubted she would have let it happen anyway, no matter how hard I tried.
I don't know how long I was there – she said I would be there until I started to talk again but that never happened. She let me out because she missed my presence in the games, but that proved to be her ultimate demise. I'm not sure how long I was in there but I wasn't out of there for very long before I turned around and slammed that bat against her head. She wanted me to break, to bend in two, to shatter... and I did. But she died because of it and I don't even feel an ounce of guilt...
I don't know how long she kept me in there, Caleb, maybe it was just a few days, or maybe a few weeks. I wish I knew how long it had been.
I love you... I have so many questions, Caleb, and because of me... the one person who can answer them isn't able to answer them. And I don't know how to live with that.
Love,
Hanna
