A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, I hope this chapter is something you all enjoy and please don't forget to review, you've no idea how much inspiration each one gives me and how much I enjoy reading each and every one.
Also, KateEals – totally not the weirdest review, thank you very much! I work within the same environment, so my only concern is the differences between the American justice system and the British but hopefully, w a little research, I will try my very best to ensure everything is as accurate as I could possibly get.
"If life were fair, we would never have suffered what we suffered at all; having suffered it and survived, we're still reacting to things that don't exist anymore."
"But they did."
"Yes. I hate that they still define me... I want that to change. I don't know how to change it but I'm willing to spend the rest of my life trying... Home is a strange thing."
"What do you mean?"
"We lose it, and we think it's gone forever. That's how I felt the first time I lost mine. It took my years to understand that I could find – and make – another. I couldn't do it on my own tough; I don't think – for me – home exists in isolation." - Michelle Sagara West
There were arms wrapped around her, soft words being whispered, as lips pressed to her hair. She could smell that familiar scent she had come to love so much – stale cigarettes, mixed with the expensive aftershave she had bought him every year for Christmas before she was gone. Her eyes were still closed, but her hand moved to grip blindly at his shirt, and her head moved to hide in his chest as she just took a moment to breathe him in before she dared to open her eyes and look up at the man who was shaking against her touch.
When she did, she saw the tears falling down his face and slowly, she lifted a hand to wipe at the tears she could reach before she gently gripped at his jaw and pulled his face down a little, just so their eyes could meet, "I love you," She whispered, her voice hoarse from years of no use, her throat beginning to ache when she was reminded of the strain it seemed to have on her body. Speaking, it came so naturally to those around her and once, it had been so natural to her but now it seemed foreign. She could see the confusion flash in his eyes, as though he had barely remembered how she spoke, before the recognition settled in and he gave her a small smile.
"I love you too," He mumbled, his lips moving down to press against her nose, avoiding the large cut on her forehead, "I need you to listen to me, okay? I just need you to know how much I love you and that no matter what happens, no matter how much time we spend apart, I will always, always love you. I'd do anything for you, Hanna Marin." She was left feeling empty when he pulled away, only for his arms to be replaced by other ones as he came to a stand, his arms in the air, waiting for someone.
Hanna had been so focused on him, she hadn't heard the crashing of the police entering the building, she barely heard the shouts of 'clear' with each room they double checked. She could barely register what was going on until Detective Tanner walked into the room with her gun raised, and pointed at Caleb. Her heart thumped against the chest and she shook her head, before the man she loved spoke, a lack of emotion in the words, "There's a moment when you're forced to take action because no one else will, I guess this was my moment."
Finally, her eyes moved to look around the room, confused by what had happened in the time she had been unconscious, wondering how much time had even passed between then and now. Ali had her arms around her, she could feel the other woman trembling as she did, but Hanna's eyes met with Spencer's for just a second before she looked at the source of the blood that covered her best friend, only to be met with the unmoving body of the man who had tortured them, without them even suspecting him, for years. It didn't take a genius to work out what had happened between the time he had knocked her out and the time she had woken up but still, seeing Tanner tuck her weapon away and instead, bring out some handcuffs, left Hanna shaking her head with tears in her eyes.
She had gotten so used to being the one who was taken, not the one who was left behind, she had never imagined it would hurt so badly to know that there was nothing she could do. The words the Detective spoke were just a blur as she read the man his rights, and arrested him for the murder of Noel Kahn. There was no loss, Hanna bitterly thought as she looked over at him, but still, she didn't say a word as instead, she clung to the other blonde and closed her eyes tightly, as though somehow, that would remove her from the hell she had found herself in. It was that same day she had been silently saying her goodbyes to the man who was being pushed out of the room by a woman on a mission, a woman who wanted to look as though she was the hero when really, she had done nothing. Hanna had been so certain that she was the one who would be leaving him, she had never allowed herself to think of the situation being turned around and instead, she would be the one watching him walk out of the door. Being forced out of the door.
"No," She whispered, the tears falling fast and heavy as she continued to shake her head, "C-come back, no..." Alison held her tighter, pulled her even closer as she hid her face in Hanna's hair and closed her own eyes, trying to whisper words of comfort through her own tears. The only saving grace was that it was over, and the three women, along with Aria and Emily owed their lives to Caleb.
The blonde ran her fingers through her hair, lifting the cigarette to her lips before she inhaled, and closed her eyes at the relief that seemed to run through her with the very first smoke. Hanna Marin had a history of bad habits but she had never thought smoking would be one of them, but they reminded her of him. The smell that would linger on her clothes (his clothes, she mentally corrected herself, as she looked down at the shirt that hung from her tiny frame), was the closest thing to comfort she could get.
She quickly wiped at a tear that fell down her face, shaking her head at herself when she thought about the court case that was coming up. It had been over a month since Caleb had fatally shot Noel Kahn and whilst she wasn't sorry, and neither were her friends, unfortunately his family held a lot of power in the town and they wanted justice. Voluntary manslaughter by means of provocation was the charge Caleb was facing – and with his criminal history, the fact he was on a suspended sentence and the serious nature of the crime, it didn't look good. No amount of witness statements the girls attempted to give could erase the fact that the police simply didn't believe it fell under the remit of self-defence.
Hanna could only hope that Spencer's eye witness account, the scar from the knife that had cut her throat ever so slightly, the fact that Noel was going to kill her if Caleb hadn't protected her, would be enough. Caleb's lawyer would argue that he was clouded by anger, guilt, sadness – he had just found out his girlfriend had been raped, his girlfriend had been kidnapped for the second time and no one would believe him. It could be argued that the emotional toil of the past three years, and the trauma caused by Hanna going missing a second time, was enough of an explanation.
Or simply, if the knife hadn't been pressed to the throat of one of his friends, if Noel hadn't been goading him on, if he hadn't just found out from Alison ten minutes prior, that there was video footage of Noel Kahn raping Hanna when she was missing, then it would not have ended the way it had. Maybe he'd serve time for carrying an unlicensed weapon, but that would be significantly less than the time he would spend behind bars if he was found guilty of the charge he was currently up against. Three to five years, in the very least, up to eleven if the judge was feeling particularly petty that day. But no matter what, Hanna knew she would wait – he had spent three years of his life waiting for her, if she had to repay that, then she would.
She drew her knees to her chest, and wrapped an arm around them before she let out a breath of smoke, her eyes opening to watch it float away before she repeated the motion just seconds later. Of all the bad habits she had developed over the years, at least this was one that offered her some form of comfort.
It was late. Hanna had her eyes closed, feeling the soft breeze against her face as she wrapped her arms around herself. It was late at night when she missed Caleb the most, she missed the way his arms would wrap around her and she would feel so safe. How somehow, his lips pressed against her forehead would stop some of the darkest thoughts. She missed everything about him. Her blue eyes only opened when she heard the sound of someone walking towards her, tensing for just a second until she recognised the figure. The red head moved slowly, and Hanna could tell how exhausted she was – she was on the phone Caleb's lawyer for hours every single day, and when she wasn't speaking to him, then she was phoning up the media, hoping someone would listen to their story and someone who meant something would do something about it. She was fighting for Caleb in a way Hanna couldn't, and Hanna knew that once he was out of that place and he was back where he belonged, they would do everything they could to make it up to Ashley.
"How are you feeling?" She asked Hanna the same thing every day and most of the time, she would get a shrug of the shoulders, a one or two word response. Whilst she had found her voice, she still struggled; she could still go days without saying a word because everything else had been stolen from her. She had sat in a room with her therapist who had told her it was a coping mechanism, the one thing she could control that no one else could. The stress of Caleb being taken away from her had left her standing on the edge once again, looking down at the darkness she so wanted to dive into, but she kept glancing behind her – at her friends, and her family, at Caleb who she was supposed to help, who she was supposed to wait for.
For the first time, Hanna knew her mother needed some form of honesty, she needed her to be open with her, even if it meant Hanna didn't respond to the question again. She could see the desperation in her eyes, hear it in her voice, she wanted to give her something in an attempt to prove that maybe one day she would be okay. "I feel..." Hanna sighed, her trembling fingers making a move for the cigarette pack she had placed on the table, shaking as she attempted to light it before she glanced at her mother, taking a long, deep drag of the cigarette as she tried to collect her thoughts. "Every single time I should be happy, I should be able to move on, something else happens, you know? When we killed Charlotte and left that place, I thought that was it, I would deal with the trauma and I would be able to move on with my life, the nightmare was over, the monster was dead. But then it turned out the monster wasn't dead, because it had been plural, and he wanted revenge."
She took a deep breath, "And he got it, god... he got it but then he was gone and it should have been over then. I should be happier now, I should be able to say I'm going to move on with my life but I can't because the man I love, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, is locked up because he tried to protect me and my best friend. He could be behind bars for eleven years, if the judge is a complete asshole and... he didn't do anything wrong." She was frustrated, upset, angry and her hatred for the criminal justice system was only increasing with every day that passed and Caleb was still there.
Before her mother could speak, she just looked at her and gave her a small, sad smile as the tears fell down her face, "Is trauma really trauma if you don't remember it?" She questioned, voicing the one thing she had been thinking since she had found out what Noel had done to her whilst she was unconscious and completely unaware of the world around her. At that, Ashley gave a quick nod of her head and moved to grasp Hanna's hand in her own, trying to find the words that would make it a little better but she knew nothing ever could.
"I think it happened, Hanna and the knowledge that it happened, whether you remember it or not, is enough. He did something truly awful to you, and you deserve to feel anything you want about that." Hanna squeezed the other woman's hand when she saw the tears that fell down her own pale face; when she had been in the dollhouse, she had thought all the time of the effect it would be having on the people who loved her, the people they had all left behind but it was different being faced with it. She could see the years that had been added to her beautiful mother's face, she could see the way the sadness, the regret and the anger that would so often flare in her eyes. If it hadn't been Caleb with that gun that day, if Ashley had been the one to find out where Hanna was being kept, the blonde had no doubt that it would have ended in a similar manner. The inevitability of losing someone she loved so much was daunting, and terrifying.
"We're going to fight this, Hanna. Even if they find him guilty this time, we'll fight it and we'll fight it and we'll carry on until someone sees that what he did was the right thing." Hanna only nodded her head, "I promised him when I last spoke to him that you would be my number one priority and I've been letting that promise down with everything that has been going on but I promise you, Hanna, you are my entire world and I will do everything I can for you and right now, I know the best thing in the world will be for you to get Caleb back. So I'm going to make sure I don't fail you on that because... we both need him."
The young woman didn't say another word, silently thanking the two people who had meant so much to her, for being there for each other. They could have so easily given up, fallen apart, drifted apart until she was found but she could see the strength their relationship had and she was just thankful that when they couldn't have her, they had found each other.
It seemed as though he had been fighting all of his life – when he was younger, going through the system, from one foster parent to the next, he fought as much as he possibly could to not end up as so many had before him. Then he found himself fighting for so much more – he had finally found his family, his home, but he had to watch his home being torn down slowly, piece by piece every single day with each text message, every new threat, every little event that cumulated into the years she had spent away from him.
He had been clinging onto his own life for so long, and for the first time, he was so tired of fighting for something he should have had. It had reached the point when, just as he thought nothing bad could happen because it already had, there was something else to add to the mix. He let out a groan of frustration as he let his head drop to his hands, wishing he could just turn his thoughts off. Thinking of Hanna and the fact she was dealing with what happened to her without him right where he belonged, thinking of how he wanted nothing more than to be on the outside, where he belonged.
He held back the tears, ignoring the pain in his chest as he bit down harshly on her bottom lip. He couldn't cry, not there, because crying meant weakness and if he ever wanted to get back to Hanna, then he would have to be strong. Or at least, make his fellow prisoners think he was strong. If he closed his eyes, he would see the look on Alison's face, how pale she was, how she had been sobbing when he found her, the smell of vomit pungent in the air when he got a little closer to the blonde he had once hated and blamed, but would now hold her in high regard. She helped him find Hanna and that was all he could think of right then – getting to the blonde, wrapping her in his arms and telling her it was going to be okay.
The weapon he had brought for him was more for threat than actual use, although he knew he would not hesitate to pull the trigger should Noel give him good reason. There was no thought for the consequence, not when he was doing the job that the police should have done in the first place. They had let his girlfriend down, they had let her friends down, they had even let Charlotte down, and they had let him and the people who had been left behind down as well. Who'd have thought they'd turn to arresting him in an attempt to make it look as though they had done something.
The words Alison had spoken to him that day still repeated through his mind, he showed me what he did to them, what he did to Hanna... he raped her, Caleb, the bastard raped her and he was proud of himself, and he closed his eyes even tighter, quickly covering his mouth with his hand as he suppressed the scream that so longed to escape his throat. The rage he had felt that day still burned through him as though he was right there, and he could feel the cool metal of the gun, he could hear every step he took towards the only open door in the entire place and he could still hear the sound of Noel's voice. In his mind, he murdered him over and over again, saw the blood, watched as his body crumpled to the floor and each time, he felt nothing. No remorse, no regret, nothing – perhaps, he thought, that should have concerned him but after everything he had been through, after everything Hanna had been through, he finally got the justice he knew Rosewood Police never would have sought.
Temporary insanity was what his lawyer had been recently discussing as a plea bargain; Caleb had been literally driven insane by the three years he had spent looking for his girlfriend and her friends, the rage he had felt from that time spent never knowing what happened to her or if she was even alive, had blurred into one from the moment he heard that the man who had stolen that woman from him had also raped her. He had been temporarily insane but for that to work, he was meant to show some form of remorse or regret for the action he had taken that day. He wasn't supposed to mention that if he could do it all over again, he would do the exact same thing.
He still maintained he wasn't guilty though, no crime had been committed as far as he could see. The man who had tortured those teenage girls was gone, the person who had done so many terrible things was dead, what crime had he committed?
There were arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her back as she screamed out Mona's name. Spencer held Hanna to her chest, tried to tell her to stop fighting her, but Hanna's eyes were only focused on the dyed blonde hair of her friend. The tears fell fast and heavy, her sobs were ugly, and as much as she tried to fight how tightly Spencer's arms were holding her in the spot, it didn't take long for her knees to buckle as she let out another scream. When the figure disappeared and the body of the person Hanna had already mourned once, dropped to the ground, the brunette finally let go of her best friend so the blonde could scramble up and run over to her.
By the time she had got there, Mona was still breathing and Hanna thought, naively, for just a second, that she would be okay. But then she glanced down at the blood, her face paling when she saw the amount that seemed to be pouring from the tiny body of the first person who had truly made her feel accepted. Quickly, she pulled Mona close to her and ran her fingers through her hair, ignoring the three stab wounds that caused the blood to cover the shirt she had been wearing. "It's going to be okay," She whispered, pulling Mona as close as she possibly could, her lips pressing against her hairline as she cried.
A cough emitted from the pale, shaking girl as she looked up at her best friend and gave her a small smile, her hand moving to gently touch Hanna's cheek, "D-do you really... forgive me?" She managed to get out, her voice weak but determined. Hanna didn't hesitate to nod her head, "I forgave you the moment I got my head around it, you were sick and I never forgot how much you did for me before that. I forgave you a long time ago." Hanna could only hope Mona heard her before her eyes fell to a close and her chest rose, and then fell for the final time.
She sat there for hours, cradling the dead body of her friend, completely forgiving her for everything she had ever put them through. Mona had been through hell and back as well, the least she deserved was their forgiveness.
Hanna sat up quickly, holding the cover closer to her body as she shook her head, as though somehow that would rid her of the memory that she had tried to keep back. It had been a while since she had thought of Mona in that way, she had always tried to cling to the memories of her being alive, happy, tried to remember all the times they had spent together shopping, laughing, as she gave Hanna a place she could finally belong.
Her eyes glanced over at the clock next to her bed, watching as the number flashed up, showing it as the early hours of the day Caleb's trial would start and for a moment, she asked herself, what would Mona have done? And she knew, more than anything, she had to fight as Caleb had done for her for so long. He deserved that from her, in the very least.
