Chapter 34:

I Could Use Somebody

The pieces weren't altogether there for Hanna. The last clear memories she had as she woke up, bathed in sunlight peeking through a gap in the curtains were the events at Aria and Ezra's house. The twinkling Christmas lights, the countdown on the TV, Spencer kissing her fiancée when midnight came, and Ezra and Aria and Emily and Samara doing the same. Hanna smiling as Will tucked a loose curl behind her ear and kissing her softly, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

All of that was clear. There. Certain.

What happened after…that's where things got hazy.

After Will drove her back to her apartment at around one in the morning, she noticed that the red light on her answering machine was blinking aggressively. Thinking nothing of it, she dropped her bag by the couch and casually pressed the button while walking past the phone, fishing a bottle of water out of the fridge.

Caleb's voice on the machine made her freeze, and it was like her blood was turning to sludge.

"Hey, Hanna. I just…wanted to call and say that uhm…well, you know it really isn't…I guess I was just wondering. Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter. Uhm. Happy New Year. Okay." Followed by an awkward clicking sound as he hung up the phone.

Hanna hadn't realized that she had taken a few involuntary steps towards the machine, and when the short messaged ended, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Suddenly, she was filled with hot, boiling anger, bubbling in her blood. How dare he! Drop out of her life with no intention of coming back and then decide that he wasn't done screwing with her head yet? How dare he.

Nearly blinded by rage, Hanna moved towards the couch, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. She wasn't even quite sure where she was going – or what she was doing, for that matter – but she seemed unable to stop herself.

She recalled getting into her car and driving somewhere. The next bit of memory she had was stopping by the liquor store and purchasing an entire fifth of Jack Daniels. She didn't know if she had ever finished all of it, but the spots in her memory proved that she had had a good portion of the bottle.

She vaguely recalled parking in front of an apartment building, ambling up the stairwell, and banging her fist against a door until she was sure she had bruised herself.

When Caleb opened the door, she remembered spitting out a few angry things, mixed with some choice words, letting every shred of reserve she had drown away in the alcohol.

When her eyes wandered a bit into Caleb's apartment – which was mostly filled with cardboard boxes ready to be shipped out to Montecito – she spotted a bottle of liquor on his table, too. What was it? Jim Beam? She could barely make out the letters.

"Hanna, why are you driving drunk?"

"Why are you leaving messages on my answering machine? And don't act like you're any more sober than I am."

"You're acting insane; go home."

"No! Not until you tell me why you keep coming back to mess with my head!"

"Hanna – "

"No, Caleb! Look me in the eye and tell me you don't care about me anymore. Tell me. Leave me alone. If you're just going to disappear in a few weeks into a new life, I don't want any last thoughts about what could have been."

"Well, if you want me gone, all you have to do is ask. You're the one who wanted me to leave in the first place."

"I never wanted that!"

"Could have fooled me."

"Ugh! See, that's why you don't get it yet. You don't see how I really feel. I feel like you're doing all of this shit just to spite me!"

"Oh, and you flitting around with Super Boy doesn't have anything to do with showing me?"

"How – how dare you! I finally try to get over you and you have a problem with me moving on? You can't have it both ways, Caleb!" At that point, her hands came up and she shoved him, hard. "I'm not like Montecito; I won't just be here until you're done with me."

"Are you trying to pretend that you're done with me?"

"I was never done with you! I've been trying so hard, but you just keep showing up, right when I finally feel like I'm close to forgetting you."

"Is that what you want? To forget me?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"But this is what you decided!"

"I decided? I decided?! Oh, I swear to God, you are the most – "

But her words were swallowed up by the sudden presence of his lips on hers, kissing her hard. Before she could even think of stopping herself, her hands came up to bury in his hair, pulling him closer. His arms came around her middle in a familiar embrace, and he lifted her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist.

Hanna recalled ambling backwards into his apartment, unsteady from the influence of the liquor. She remembered him lowering her onto his mattress – which was on the ground, with the headboards packed up in boxes – and pressing down on top of her. She recollected him helping her pull her shirt over her head, kicking off her heels, and yanking his sweater off. She remembered his warmth, almost overtaking her, the familiarity of his touch as he pressed her downwards, deeper into the sheets…

And now, as the sunlight burned against her closed eyelids, she felt the smooth rhythm of his breathing underneath her cheek. She was lying across his warm bare chest, swathed in the comforter and bathed in sunlight.

As she carefully rolled over onto her back, sitting up, she wondered what it was she had been looking for when she came over last night. She was drunk – that was the only excuse she had.

But it wasn't like things were going to change, were they? No. He was still days away from leaving for Montecito, Will was still scheduled to meet her for lunch that day, and she and Caleb were still a fragmented mess.

The only thing worse than the mess was the fact that Hanna couldn't bring herself to regret the previous night.

She clenched her eyes shut, rubbing them with her fist and let out an exasperated sigh. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gathered her clothes, starting to get dressed. Letting her heels dangle from her fingers, she headed for the door.

When she looked back, leaning against the doorframe, she let her eyes observe him carefully. She could imagine his anger when he woke up and realized she wasn't there. Or maybe he would just be angry that she had come in the first place.

She wasn't sure she could face him sober, not after what had happened the previous night.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a sticky note and a pen, hastily scribbling down a quick, fleeting thought.

She walked over around the side of his mattress, careful not to wake him, and laid the note on his side table. Then, she turned and walked out of the room, along the hall, and exited the apartment.

I'm sorry. For everything. – Han

"'And the tree was happy.'" Toby smiled as he read aloud the last line, snapping the book shut.

Taylor smiled as well, showing off the gap in her teeth and clapped her hands. "Read another book, Uncle Toby!"

"It's getting late, Tay…" Toby ruffled her cute dark hair.

"Pleathe?" She lisped, sticking out her bottom lip.

He chuckled. "Alright, go pick one out."

She jumped off of the bed with glee, and hurried over to her little bookshelf.

"Who knew you would be as big of a bookworm as your aunt." Toby grinned, sitting back against the wall.

Melissa had called Spencer earlier that evening and asked her if she would be willing to drive up to the cabin with her and put the projective covers on the windows to prevent the frost from shattering the glass. Although it was an important task to complete, Spencer and Toby knew that Melissa was looking for an excuse to get Spencer alone to talk about Jason and Wren.

So, naturally, Toby volunteered to watch Taylor for a few hours until they got back.

"Uncle Toby?"

"Yes, Squirt?"

"Why does Aunt Thenther call you Romeo?"

Toby laughed. "Well, that's a while different story, Tay."

"Oooh, a story? I wanna hear it!"

"It's a little too old for you." He said with a gentle grin. "It's a grown-up story."

"Oh, is it a kithing story?" She lisped, and her expression of understanding made Toby laugh again.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Do you love Aunt Thenther?" She asked, already moving onto another subject as she continued to look for a book.

"Yes I do, sweetheart. Very much."

"Are you guys going to get married like Thinderella and Prince Charming?"

"Well, I suppose so." He smiled.

"Okay, good. Are you going to have a pumpkin carriage at your wedding?"

"Oh, well, you never know."

"If you do, can I ride in it?"

"As many times as your heart desires."

"Yay!" She rejoiced, as she slid another book off of her shelf. Returning to her bed, she climbed onto the mattress and settled beside Toby, tucking herself underneath his arm. She smiled and kissed the top of her head as she handed him her beat-up copy of Goodnight, Moon.

"Uncle Toby?" She asked, her voice suddenly a bit sad.

"Yes, Tay?"

"Why doesn't my daddy love my mommy like you love Aunt Thenther?"

Toby sighed and looked at the wall, searching for a way to address that question. "Well, you see Tay…sometimes people get married…for the wrong reasons. Maybe it's because they just are in love with the idea of love, or maybe it's because they feel as if they owe it to themselves to try it out. But every couple is different. But just because they don't always feel loving towards each other, doesn't mean they don't love you."

"I don't even know where my daddy is." She said, and the soft innocence of her voice nearly broke Toby's heart.

He kissed her hair again and gave her a gentle hug. "It's okay, Tay. We'll find him soon. I promise."

"Thometimes I wish you were my daddy, Uncle Toby." Taylor whispered softly.

Not knowing what to say, he sighed and opened the book, beginning to read aloud.

Taylor was asleep before he even got to page five.

"So, he hasn't called at all?" Spencer asked Melissa from the passenger's seat of the car.

"Haven't heard a word."

The two sisters had just finished putting tarp covers over the windowpanes at their lake house before the worst of the winter frost could get to them. Now, they were on their way back, driving through the woods that led into Rosewood.

"And you haven't heard from Jason?" Melissa asked.

"Not a thing."

"So, I guess we're both in the rut, huh?"

"Yep." Spencer agreed, her hand resting on her fist.

"Why don't people want to be found, Spencer? Why don't they think that we can help them?"

"I guess they're too ashamed to be upfront with us."

"But why? Why does pride get in the way of everything?"

"You say that like you don't have any."

"Any what?" Melissa asked.

"Pride."

"Well, who's to say I do?"

"Me. You. Everyone who's ever met you." Spencer said, "You had too much pride to be honest with Wren about your pregnancy, and you have too much pride to tell Franco that you don't need him anymore."

"But I do need him."

"No, you don't. You're both better off without each other."

"I don't know if you realized, but I'm carrying his child."

"It's your child too, Melissa. And that child is a child, whether it grows up with Wren as a father or Franco."

"But I love Franco."

"Do you?"

"Yes." She said. "At least…at least I think I do."

Spencer eyed her skeptically.

"Look, he's good to me, he's passionate, he loves me, and he's good to Taylor. Four things that Wren will never be."

"Well, there's still one thing that Wren is and will always be." Spencer replied.

"What?"

"Taylor's father."

"Spencer, Jason grew up thinking that Peter DiLaurentis was his father when really he was the spawn of Jessica DiLaurentis and Peter Hastings."

"Yeah, and look how destroyed he was to find out. His whole childhood was one big giant lie after another. That's why he was so messed up, and that's why he's hiding from us like some kind of convict."

"So then what do you want me to do?" Spencer could tell Melissa was struggling to keep her voice even.

"Tell someone the truth. Whether it is Wren when you find him, Taylor when you get home, or just letting Franco know that this isn't fairy tale world. At least one of you four deserves to be happy."

"What if I just let Wren go, Spencer? Imagine how much easier things would be. He doesn't want to be found anyway. Then Franco and I could be together, our baby would have a loving family, and Taylor could grow up with a real father. Because right now, Toby is a better father to Taylor that Wren has or will ever be, and he's not even related to her."

Spencer sighed. "That's not how things work, Melissa. When you touch someone's life in such a deep way…those fingerprints become permanent."

"I can erase them; I want to."

"I just…don't want you to make rash decisions. There's already too much quick judgment going around, and it's getting us nowhere."

"I'll think about it, Spencer. But whatever I choose…I want you to support me, okay?" Melissa looked over at her. "Because that's what sisters do."

Spencer sat back. "Okay. I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"That poor kid deserves a good life." Toby sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, no kidding. I just had a long chat with her misfit mommy." Spencer replied, peeling off her blouse and hanging it up. She reached for one of Toby's shirts, tugging it over her head.

"If you had been there, Spence…if you could have heard what she asked me, you would have just died."

"Believe me, I've already gotten my fair share of Tragic Moments with Taylor." Spencer let out a breath, crawling under the covers. Toby came out of the bathroom, putting on one of his white t-shirts. He got in bed on the other side, stretching out beside her.

"I wish things could be normal, Toby. Just for once."

"Well, Romeo and Juliet never had it easy."

"They also got married when they were teenagers, Toby."

"Okay, point taken."

"Everything is just so…messed up." Spencer groaned, flopping onto her back.

"Hey," Toby said softly, his voice slightly raspy, "come here."

"What?"

"Come over here."

She rolled onto her side, inching towards him. "What are you doing?" She asked as he drew her in closer, and she felt his breath on her face.

"Reminding you 'what it feels like to be human.'" He murmured as he pressed his lips beneath her jaw.

Smiling devilishly, she responded to his touch by raking her hands through his hair, arching her head back so that he could get a better angle as he kissed down her neck and shoulders. In a quick second, they had yanked her t-shirt off, letting it disappear somewhere beneath the covers, and she was on her back, with him poised above her.

She kissed him deeply, relishing in the familiar taste of his mouth, his breath. She pulled at his shirt and his fingers teased the skin just above the waistline of her pajama shorts. She groaned, running her fingertips up his back, and drawing his shirt over his head. He tugged her pajama pants down, and she hastily kicked them off, wrapping her legs around his torso. His tongue traced her lips and she pulled at the drawstring of his pajama pants. Close was never close enough for her. She needed him like the air she breathed. When they finally shed the remainder of their clothing, he brought her hands up above her head and pressed against her, guiding her hips towards him. When they were finally one, she shuddered with the ripple of pleasure that coursed through her body. He squeezed her hands with each movement, and her head fell back against the pillows, gasping. He pressed his face into her neck, and they both clung to each other as if they were terrified of falling off the face of the earth.

She cried out desperately, and he murmured her name, his breath tickling her ear. She'd never heard such passion stretched out amongst two syllables as she did when they were so intimate with one another. He kissed her gently one last time as he drew out of her, rolling onto his side and spooning her against him. She squirmed in his arms as he moved, though, and he was confused as she wrestled to get out of what was usually her favorite position to sleep in. She pressed her face into his bare chest, wrapping her arms tight around him.

Her soft, broken breathing made Toby feel uneasy and worried for a moment, but he soon realized that she was, truly, desperate. Everything in her world was falling apart, one person at a time. She needed someone to cling onto. To hold her and let her know that everything was going to be all right.

She needed her Romeo.

So he held her while she tried to steady herself; he kissed her hair and rubbed her back softly, until she had regained her composure and his caresses had made her drowsy.

"You're my angel." She whispered softly, listlessly.

He smiled and kissed her forehead, "And you're mine, Juliet."

thanks for all of the positive feedback my loves! really, this story would be NOTHING without each and every one of you; and thanks for all of the votes! now, i think i have a good idea on where i'm taking this story, but it's not too late to vote for hanna's beau! keep sending your opinions!

how did you feel about the haleb at the beginning? ;) now, don't be convinced, this hanna/caleb/will story is far from over! i'm really pleasantly surprised by the amount of people that have taken a liking to will! personally, i think that hanna could easily be happier with either one of them, so it'll be fine whatever way it turns out for me.

and i hope i got enough of that steamy spoby you've been asking for ;) it's always fun to write them.

next ch, i'll touch more on hanna and will, and how caleb fits into the equation, and the huge mess that exists among aria, jason, and ezra ;)

now, would anyone like me to focus on emily and samara a little bit as well? b/c if you like them together as much as i do, i'm totally willing to write more of them in for you! ;)

c'est amour - AJ