Chapter 16

Nowhere

She wanted to stay with her grandmother.

It was all she wanted.

But if Hannah had learned one thing…then it was that she never got what she wanted.

So when she woke up, cold and alone in the heap of scrap metal that had once been a car…she wasn't scared.

She felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Emptiness where once her heart had been, carved out and replaced with nothing.

She would always remember the screaming sound of metal being wrenched apart as they cut her out of that car, the neck scruff thing that was placed around her neck because they were scared that she had done something to her spine.

She hadn't.

She knew that. She didn't know how she knew that, but she knew that.

The one thing that she had managed to do was to break her arm, but even that was a clean break. Nothing that needed surgery.

Just a cast…standing out against her skin in a bright blue.

A cut on her forehead, cleaned and stitched up…glass from the windshield picked out of it beforehand. She stared in front of her, the busyness of Forks Hospital pulling around her like a bad movie.

She was there and she wasn't.

"Sunshine?" And then suddenly there was Sammy, leaning over her, dark eyes worried as a broad and warm hand gently brushed against her cheek.

"I want to go." Her tongue felt clumsy in her mouth at these words. Go. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to go…she wanted to be back with her grandmother. She wanted…

"Okay, sunshine, we can do that," Sammy agreed, his voice splintering at the edges. "Let's go home."

Home.

Home was such a peculiar idea, wasn't it? What was home?

Was there a home even when her heart was broken?

Hannah didn't know.

It wasn't the house she had shared with Allison…It wasn't…

It hadn't been home in so long. Not since…not since Sammy had left and…

He didn't bring her there. He brought her to Granny's house where Emily was waiting for them, hugging her tightly. Her scars stood out sharply even in the warm glow of an early evening.

So beautiful and so destroyed, like somebody had taken a painting of an old master and desecrated it in the worst way. And all of it was Hannah's fault.

The guest bedroom still looked like it had when Granny had lived there…the old patchwork quilt with its myriad of fabric choices on the iron wrought bed frame, the yellowed lace curtains on the windows…it was still all there…Just like it had been since Hannah could think.

She wanted nothing more than to curl up on that bed. Nothing more than to just….Disappear.

But she couldn't.

Not when the accident replayed in her mind like a scratched CD.

The memory on rewind. Again and again.

Her mother pushed the gas pedal even when he saw the truck in front of them. He had done it.

It hadn't been an accident. It had been on purpose.

Alison had killed herself and would have killed Hannah as well if she got the opportunity to it.

Hannah's arm was throbbing incessantly with a pain that refused to go away. Not when her heart was shattered into a million pieces.

She was stuck in this world, a world that didn't care about her, a world where she had no place.

"Hannah," Emily's voice broke through her thoughts. "Do you want to eat something? I can make some soup?"

Hannah shook her head, not trusting her voice.

"Okay," Emily said softly, understanding written all over her face. "Just rest then. I'll get you something to wear, at least get you out of your clothing..."

She got an old shirt of Sammy's, laughably oversized on her skinny frame and then finally she could curl up on that bed, bury her face into a pillow, wrap that quilt all around her, her fingertips tracing the stitching that her grandmother had made.

"Sleep, sunshine, you need it," Sammy said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed she didn't trust herself to look at him, because then she was going to start to cry and she didn't need to put that on him.

He held her good hand in his, a comforting presence beside her, even as she felt the weight of the broken pieces of her life bearing down on her, threatening to suffocate her.

She forced herself to stay still, to breathe deeply, and willed herself to sleep, because maybe then she would be back with Granny and not back there, even as Sammy finally quietly stood and made his way out of the room.

She did fall asleep.

She regretted it.

Sleep meant dreams and dreams meant reliving the accident, the sound of metal being twisted and crunched, the sensation of being thrown and then darkness.

She woke up sometimes, she didn't know when, waking herself up with her own sobbing, as her non-existent heart seemingly ripped her apart from the inside out as she wanted nothing more than to die.

That would solve every single one of her problems.

"Hannah?" A quiet voice asked from the doorway the next morning. It had become light outside, she could see it shine through the thin curtains, but she hadn't found it in herself to move from where she had curled herself together. "Han? Are you awake?"

Kim.

It was Kim.

She could hear her best friend cross the room and sit down on the bed next to her, felt her small hand gently touch Hannah's shoulder and finally she forced herself to move her head enough that she could look at Kim.

Her best friend looked worried, her dark eyes piercing into Hannah's. "How are you feeling?" Kim asked softly as if she was afraid to break the fragile silence that had settled in the room. "Sam told me what happened. I'm so sorry, Hannah."

Hannah didn't know what to say. She felt numb like someone had sucked all the emotions out of her. She just shook her head and turned to face the window, pulling the quilt tighter around her. She heard Kim sigh deeply and knew that her friend was at a loss for words.

"I'm here for you, okay?" Kim finally said, her voice laced with emotion. "Whatever you need, I'm here," Kim promised her softly. "Emily is making breakfast...French Toast. Your favourite. I think you could even get away with putting ice cream on it today, I doubt Sam is going to say anything against it..."

"I am not hungry," she finally managed to force out, her voice hoarse from disuse.

She couldn't even fathom the thought of eating anything. It was all just…why should she even bother anymore?

"I know," Kim said softly. "I doubt I would be in your place. But you need to eat...please? Please, Han." Her words were maybe an inch above outright begging. "I even brought you some clothing you still had left at mine...Though I think getting on your skinny jeans one-handed is going to be a problem…" She wanted to smile at that, but the only thing that she could manage to make her face do was something kind to a grimace and that was just…

"Please, Hannah?" Kim asked again, holding out her hand for her to take and Hannah took it with her good hand. She let Kim pull her up, filling the room with incessant chatter, as she helped her change into sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt, even as Kim sharply pulled in a breath as she saw the bruises where her satay belt had cut into Hannah's skin. The normally bronze skin was darker and mottled, bruises making themselves known every time she so much as breathed, but she couldn't manage to care about it.

Kim kept her hand in hers as she pulled her out of the room into the doorway and the kitchen…She could hear Sam, his voice sharp and loud like he was losing the grip on his temper.

"You didn't see the car, Em!" Her brother snapped. "It's scrap metal. They needed to cut her out of it!"

Right.

Emily looked up at that moment, her good eye taking in Hannah and Kim. "Sam," Emily cut him off immediately, her voice soft. "That's enough."

Sammy's shoulders drew back but at Emily's pointed look behind him, he turned, startled to find her there.

"Fuck," he cursed. "I am so sorry. I didn't want you to hear that, sunshine," he apologised immediately, crossing the room to hug her and she leaned against his broad chest, his warm skin seemingly burning her even through the shirt he wore.

Why not? She had been the one actually in that car. She had known exactly how it had looked.

"How are you feeling, Hannah?" He asked her softly as he ushered her to the kitchen table, for once not surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves.

"Tired," she forced out, even as Emily put a plate with French toast in front of her. Just as Kim had promised.

Kim pulled out the chair next to her, immediately stealing a square from her plate and Hannah didn't even have it in herself to playfully protest.

She just wanted to go back to bed.

"Eat," Emily told her with a smile, that somehow didn't even seem forced, just sad.

She did. The French That that she knew to be amazing tasted like cardboard in her mouth, but at least she was able to keep it down.

The phone rang. Sam answered it quietly. She didn't listen to what was said, just stared down at the rest of her French toast as Emily and Kim were quietly talking about something.

"Chief Swan is going to come over," Sammy said as he ended the phone call. "He wants to talk to you, Hannah. Take your statement. Do you think you can do that?" Her bother asked her quietly.

She had no idea if she could do that, she just knew that she didn't want to do that. She just wanted to…she just wanted to ignore that this had even happened.

But she couldn't.

So she just sat there and stared a the table, as Kim softly said her goodbye and that she would be back soon…leaving her with Sammy and Emily.

Charlie Swan, Chief of the Forks Police Department showed up not long after.

Hannah hadn't been sure what to expect…Maybe because she had met his daughter and that had really been enough for her for a myriad of reasons. Bella Swan and her were never going to be friends, that was certain.

She had seen him before, multiple times…one didn't live in the Rez on the edge of a small town like Forks and not know most of the people around the place. And then Charlie Swan was also friends with Billy Black and Harry Clearwater…

How was Harry Clearwater even? What was Seth doing?

She wanted to ask these questions, but somehow she couldn't manage to. It was just…

It was raining again, even when it was spring nowadays, and the police cruiser swerved slightly when it stopped in front of the house. Hannah watched the whole thing through the window.

Her fingernails scratched against the surface of the wooden table Emily kept in the kitchen. For just one moment the memory of her grandmother's lace doily pushed in front of her mind for some godforsaken reason.

She had no idea what she thought was going to happen when Charlie Swan entered the house. Maybe he would immediately burst into flames or something equally ridiculous.

He didn't.

He was the spitting image of his daughter though. Or maybe Bella was the spitting image of him.

The same dark brown hair and the same eyes, the same face shape…she wondered if anybody ever looked at Sam and her and picked out stuff like that as well. Or even between her and Embry.

Or maybe nobody saw it and it just…

What did it even matter anymore?

And while she felt like a zombie and Sammy was staring at the forest, his forehead furrowed, at least Emily was the perfect hostess.

"Good , Chief Swan?" She greeted him, a bright smile on her face.

"Yes, that would be…great, thank you, Emily," Charlie Swan thanked her, his voice gruff. He sounded like he didn't quite know how to deal with her or women in general. Maybe he was just…shy.

"Sam," he greeted her brother, who stood up, shaking his hand.

"Charlie. My sister, Hannah," he introduced her.

"Hello," she forced out, the word tasting like ash in her mouth.

"I…I am very sorry for your loss. Both of you. If there is anything that I can do…"

For some reasons, she didn't even think that that were empty platitude. She looked up, mustering him for just a moment. Maybe he didn't have that much in common with his daughter after all. He had been a lifelong friend to Harry and Billy after all. And she hadn't heard any bad things about Charlie Swan. Sure he could be gruff and awkward, a man of few words…but he only seemed to want the best for his daughter and the people of Forks or the Rez.

"Thank you," Sammy said at that moment, and Hannah forced a wan smile on her face in thanks.

"Milk, Sugar?" Emily asked, putting a cup of coffee in front of him. Just a moment later a cup of coffee, doctored with enough sugar to invoke a sugar crash slid in front of Hannah as well. She reached out for Emily's hand at that.

Caffeine and Sugar. Maybe that was going to make this survivable.

"Black, please," Charlie Swan waved her off. "I am gonna need that," he muttered under his breath.

"I heard the Cullens are back," her brother said at that, his voice carefully even. Checking if Hannah had been right?

"They are," Charlie Swan mumbled darkly. Huh. Apparently, they weren't the only ones who weren't a fan of their residential bloodsuckers.

She wondered why, mustering him for a moment. Was it because of Bella? The magic stayed still inside her, not often giving her answers for things that had already happened. Thought she had overheard Jacob talking about how Bella hadn't taken the vampire breaking up with her well and had gone pretty much crazy for a few months. Maybe it was that. She didn't doubt that Charlie Swan loved his only daughter…she just doubted that he had much of an influence over her any longer. It didn't seem like that to her at least.

But then what did Hannah know? Sammy and her prided themselves on being as much unlike their father as they humanely could be.

Levi Uley was a red flag for both of them.

But Charlie Swan didn't know about the supernatural world that his daughter had fallen headfirst into and still didn't like her boyfriend's family. Granted, it probably had nothing to do with the fact that they were vampires and everything to do with the fact that that guy had broken his little girl's heart.

"How did you hear that?" Charlie Swan wondered.

"I overheard somebody talking about it when I was working at the shop here," Hannah said. The lie easily slipped from her lips. She was good at lying. Something that she didn't pride herself on doing either. Not outright, not when she could get away with only telling a half-truth.

"Yes, they are back," Charlie Swan said tightly. "Bella took him back too."

Yeah, Jacob was not going to be happy about that. Hannah didn't need to be a genius to know that.

For just a moment the envy that she kept sharply under lock and key suddenly reared its ugly head. It wasn't…It wasn't fair.

Why couldn't Paul or even Quil imprinted on her? At least they weren't head over heels in love with another girl and she wouldn't be the bad guy just for existing.

Why?

"But that's not what I want to talk to you about," he changed the topic, the conversation coming to a break like an old car scrubbing to a halt. "I need…You were in the car, Hannah. The car was a total loss, of course, but we'll still need to write up a report. You will likely need it for insurance purposes and…I am sorry. But I need to ask you some questions."

She didn't want to answer any questions. She wanted to go back to sleep and never think about what happened again. She didn't want to…

"Ask your questions," Hannah said quietly. "It's okay."

"I have talked to the truck driver that…" he broke off, obviously trying to find a way to phrase it. Hannah didn't say anything. "There were no brake tracks from your mother's car. But he also had a blood alcohol level that wasn't…" he broke off again.

"We were going grocery shopping," Hannah started before he could start again, staring at the table, her hands clasped around her grandmother's mug. "Normally I do that, but I…I have been really busy this week. I should have just brought something home from work."

Then her mother would still be alive. Fate could have intervened. But it hadn't. Some things couldn't be changed.

Fate was cruel like that.

"It's not your fault, Hannah," Sammy said quietly. She ignored him.

"Allison came home from work in the hospital…" she continued. "She was in a good mood. I hadn't seen her like that…in a long time. She wanted to go grocery shopping with me… So we went to the car…"

"You were sitting in the backseat. Was there a reason for that?" Charlie Swan asked her.

Yeah, there was a reason for that. Fate had decided to tell her not to get into the passenger door. But she couldn't tell him that.

"No, I…just…I wanted to sit in the passenger seat but then I thought that I would have more room in the backseat…" even with the empty bottles surrounding her…

"That saved your life," Charlie said quietly. "If you had sat in the front, you would have been dead on impact."

She knew that. Maybe it would have been better if she had died.

"It wasn't the other driver's fault," Hannah said quietly. "Allison was angry."

"About what?" Sam asked her softly. "You said she was in a good mood."

"You know how quickly that could change with her," Hannah said with a weak shrug. "She was always unhappy with her life. That never changed…She was unhappy with the fact that she had me to take care of…"

"Sunshine…" Sammy whispered. "She didn't mean it like that."

She couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "No, Sammy, she meant that," she promised her brother, looking into his eyes. "I wish you had never been born. That's what she said. And then I already saw the headlights of that truck and I called her name…to stop driving…and she floored the gas."

She didn't want to hurt Sammy like that. She didn't. But she couldn't help the agony that covered his face as she said the next five words. "She did it on purpose."

"You think she killed herself?" Charlie asked softly and Hannah shrugged.

"I think he didn't care if she lived or died and it didn't matter to her that I was in the car with her," Hannah answered drily. "She pulled in front of that semi-truck on purpose. And now somebody else needs to live with that knowledge that they killed a person, even when they were just driving."

That seemed to be just like her mother. Putting the fault of everything that was going wrong in her life on other people.

It was quiet in the room. Deadly quiet.

"I am sorry, Sammy," she whispered, even as her brother reached out to run a hand through her hair.

"It's not your fault. None of this is," he pressed out, his voice choked off.

"For life insurance purposes…" Charlie Swan started.

"She didn't have one," Hannah gave back, her voice quiet. "She cashed it out a few years ago. She needed the money."

"Why did she need the money?" Sam asked sharply. "Hannah?"

Hannah just shook her head. She didn't want to tell him about…all of it. Her mother's alcohol obsession was…yeah.

"Your mother had a…very difficult time after your father disappeared…a single mother with two kids, must have been…" Charlie was just trying to be empathic but Hannah couldn't help but jerk at that.

Her mother hasn't really been a mother over the last few years. She had just…been somebody that Hannah dreaded to come home to. And that shouldn't be like that, should it?

"I think I have everything I need. I am sorry for your loss, once again…" he said and Hannah just nodded, finally loosening her grip from her mug and burying her face in her hands.

She just wanted to go back to bed. She just wanted to go back to sleep…sleep without nightmares. Just…

"Hannah," Sammy said, finally, she didn't know after how long. "Can you look at me, please?" He asked her and she turned her head.

He looked just as tired as she did.

"I need to ask you a few questions…and I need you to tell me the truth. And I need you to tell me the truth. Regardless of what you think I want to hear."

And she didn't want to do that. But his black eyes bored into hers. "Why did Allison need that money?" He asked her tightly. "It wasn't for the house or the car, so for what was it?" He asked her sharply. Hannah just shook her head.

She didn't want to talk about it.

"Hannah," Sam prodded and Hannah finally rubbed her forehead.

"My best guess? Alcohol. Maybe Drugs. Maybe for whatever guys she brought home," Hannah answered. "Can I go to bed?"

He didn't answer that question, instead, he asked one of his own.

"How much did Allison drink?"

"You know that she drunk sometimes," Hannah said quietly. She had done that even when Sammy had still been with them. It had just been…granted then it had been a wine bottle during dinner and not what she had done afterwards but it hadn't…"

"That wasn't my question," Sam cut her off. "Hannah, she's dead. You don't need to protect her," he snapped.

She glared at him.

"Allison is not the one I am protecting," she snapped.

"Then who are you protecting?" Sam asked her. He asked her that? Sammy asked her that?

"Who do you think?" Hannah whispered. "You. It's always been you, Sammy. You didn't need to know. You don't need to know now. Because you have enough on your plate."

"For fuck's sake, Hannah!" Her brother exploded. "I can handle myself!"

Fine.

"A couple of bottles a week. Maybe a dozen? Whiskey. Neat. Sometimes Tequila," Hannah answered. "I used to fill them up with water so that it wasn't pure, but she found out about that and didn't like that very much." That had been an understatement.

"She wasn't drunk yesterday…enough to take the edge of it, I suppose. She was never in such a good mood when she was sober, but she was walking mostly straight."

"Why did you never tell me?" Sam asked her. "Hannah, I would have…"

"Because you didn't want to know," Hannah gave back quietly. He had washed his hands of them and that had been it.

"That's not true," Sam snapped.

"You behaved like I didn't exist for 2 years, Samuel!" Hannah said with a sharp laugh. He had just…gone away. Left her alone with their mother, with Allison. "You changed into a mythical being and also maimed your girlfriend for life, which yes, was my fault, but you still gave yourself the fault for that!"

And even if she just forgot that…then there was still one thing…

"And let's be honest, the only reason why you even started speaking to me again was because of a quirk of fate. If Jacob Black hadn't imprinted on me, you would still be ignoring me," she said quietly. "Because you cut me out of your life years ago."

He turned chalk white at that.

"That's…" he started but Hannah just shrugged.

"Don't lie to me to make yourself feel better."

"Don't lie to me, either," Sam said, his voice cutting. "Because I know what kind of drunk mom could be, Hannah and it wasn't the nice kind."

She couldn't help but laugh at that.

Yeah, Allison isn't a nice drunk. That was an understatement.

"You don't want to know," she repeated. He didn't need to know either. It was just…what use was it?

"I do," Sam insisted in a hiss. "Try me, Hannah."

Alright.

"You want to know that if she didn't get enough to drink she enjoyed it to destroy stuff? Throw around some pots and pans? Didn't particularly care if I was in the room or in the way?" She spat it in his face, for just a moment enjoying the pure shock on his face.

She thought that that would be it. But once she had opened these particular floodgates…it all just came pouring out of her.

"Or that she didn't outright hit me all the time, but she shoved me around? That the doors back aren't particularly slick underfoot, but if she's drunk and pushes me out of the backdoor, I fell down them repeatedly?"

All the time. Never slapping her in the face, but she didn't need to do that to hurt Hannah.

"Or that she sometimes disappeared for days off end to sleep around and I didn't know if she was alive or dead? But I still felt relieved that she wasn't there?"

And how terrible Hannah had felt about even thinking like that but she hadn't been able to help herself.

And she couldn't stop herself now either, from the words pouring out of her mouth like venom.

"Or that she brought slimy guys home from bars and that my first kiss wasn't with a boy my age but with some 40-year-old pervert who thought he could have a threesome with both me and Allison? That I hit him and then she hit me for disrespecting her like that?" She still remembered all of that. It was burned into her brain, tattooed there and marked into her very being even when she never wanted to think about that again.

"You want to know all of that, Sammy? You don't! Nobody does!"