Another week, another misadventure with Hannah. Let's see what sort of no good she's up to this time...

As always, huge thank you to BrambleStar14 and Minaethiel for beta reading this project. And thank you for being here with Hannah and me.

I Know It's Cruel

I'll do it all over again from the start

And this time you're not leaving me in the dark

You took me for granted, now look where you are

On top of a kingdom you built out of cards

-Bad Omens, 'Kingdom of Cards'

Cuz I love you (Like a knife in the back)

-Nothing More, 'Déjà Vu'

Metal crashed together somewhere beyond the forced numbness. The nothing she felt swallowed her up until she realized nobody was kicking her anymore.

"On your feet, Michigan."

That shocked her back into her aching body. Hannah struggled to rise, finding a solid figure standing over her, arms held up to box out the other Freelancers.

Carolina prowled back and forth on the other side, fists clenched tight. "Get lost, Oregon, this doesn't concern you."

Oregon scoffed. "Anything that happens on this ship is my business. Especially when you drag my brother into it."

Cal stood at Oregon's side, shielding Hannah from Rhode Island and Connie.

"Move. Or we'll go through you." Minnesota definitely didn't look like he had any qualms about it as he stepped forward, hands already raised to push Oregon aside.

Oregon ignored him. "Cal." He sounded exhausted. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Cal's helmet shifted fractionally. Hannah felt the weight of his attention land on her. She wiped her mouth, testing to see if her nose was broken. She didn't look away.

"You don't belong here," he said, as if there weren't bloodthirsty Freelancers filling the space around them.

"Let's not pretend there are any fucking saints here," she shot back. Her fists rose as she shoved down every feeling until she went cold. "Let's try again with fair odds. Right now. You're all real brave coming in your steel, four on one. Queue up."

"Hannah, we got this," Oregon hissed over a shoulder. His hands came up again, too. But with palms out. "I don't want to fight you. Just give her a chance."

It was Rhode Island's turn to scoff. "Why would I give an Innie the time of day? I'd just as soon wake up alive tomorrow, thanks."

Minnesota took another step forward.

"Because she saved my life when she had nothing to gain from it," said Oregon, holding his ground. "How did you think I escaped Byzantium? Or did you conveniently forget that, Cal?"

Hannah held her breath. She didn't know what she could possibly say while she tried to slip around Mark. Did she dare throw her battered face at Jason's feet again? What were the odds that would work a second time?

Connie heaved a sigh that turned to white noise in her helmet speakers. She trudged from the room, throwing her fist into the wall on her way out. But the others remained in the tense silence.

"What the hell did she ever do to you?" Oregon pressed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Which one of you did she hurt first?"

Minnesota and Rhode Island both appealed to Carolina. Neither of them had been on the roof chase on Byzantium. Or in the MAC room. Carolina hesitated.

"Go on." Hannah spat blood at the Freelancer's chest, satisfied when it found its mark. "Tell them how you almost killed me. Tell them how you chased me, unarmed, when I never once turned to fight you."

"I thought none of us were saints," Carolina growled. "What about when you tackled me off the roof of that god-forsaken base?"

"Never said I was anything except what I am." Hannah held her arms out as an invitation.

Oregon stepped between them again. He focused on Carolina. If they bent her will, the others would stand down. "I wouldn't be alive without her. Give her a chance. Not a reason."

"To do what, Oregon?"

"To pick the right side of this fight. You have no idea what she's been through."

"And you do?" Rhode Island broke in. Maybe not as much of a mindless drone as Hannah had assumed.

Oregon shifted, staring at Cal. "We both do."

"Doesn't mean Innies didn't kill my squad, Oregon," said Rhode Island.

"But she didn't."

"I'm right fucking here. Say it to my face." Hannah finally managed to duck out from behind Oregon. She couldn't help it. She was fully in combat mode and all of this talking wasn't solving anything.

Minnesota's shoulders tensed when she brushed past. He twitched, as if about to pull his fist back, but Oregon's calming hand landed first.

Rhode Island's hands were shaking, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. "One of your friends pretended to be on our side. You know what happened? She dropped a building on us. I got to listen to my entire team die while we were trapped under there for days."

Hannah didn't know what she'd expected the Freelancer to say, but it certainly hadn't been a raw and honest wound. A reason to hate the URF and everyone who wore the armour. She swallowed down the poison she'd been about to spew. "I lost my squad, too. But the Covenant got them. I don't know how long I was in that hole, but I wish I'd gone with them. Watched every single one of them cut down."

She tugged her shirt up to show the scars. And the angry black bruises already forming on her ribs.

"I don't know how you feel. I know I don't. Nobody ever will," she went on, her entire attention focused on Rhode Island and their heartbreak. "But I'd be a fucking hypocrite if I put anyone else through what I've been through. This war has enough dead heroes, don't you think?"

Rhode Island chewed on her words for an uncomfortable few seconds. They said, "Only good Innie is a dead one. But I don't think you're one of them anymore."

They turned sharply on a heel and levelled a flat look at Carolina. Then they left just as abruptly as they had entered.

All the while, Cal and Minnesota had been having their own hushed conversation. The sniper followed Rhode Island out, leaving Carolina wavering without her backup.

Hannah invited Carolina with a weak gesture. "Go on. I'm not scared of you." But it came out thick and swollen from clumsy lips and raw throat. She lifted split knuckles, ignoring the flare of pain from her elbow.

But it was more than a small comfort to have Oregon step into line with her.

Carolina shook her head once. She left wordlessly.

"Come on, Hannah." Mark pulled his helmet off and pushed shaking fingers through wild hair. "Let's get you to medical."

Now that the strangers were gone, she let her arms flop limp at her sides. She took her weight off her sore leg. But she didn't let her spine collapse. She refused to deflate entirely as she limped to the threshold.

Cal hadn't removed his helmet. He stood there, looking out of place at the edge of the trashed room. Pristine.

Hannah cut him a glare when he didn't move. "Get." She made sure to enunciate clearly and coldly. "Out."

Mark didn't say anything. He just waited a half-step behind, a wall of red.

Cal stepped aside, leaving just enough space for her to pass. So she did. As his hand tentatively rose, she jerked away.

"Do not touch me," she snapped.

She followed the yellow line to medical. And she didn't look back.

"Tell me everything I don't already know."

Hannah sat back, holding the ice pack to her nose. The rest of her injuries had been seen to. She was bandaged and taped back into one piece, but the cracked ribs would take time to heal. Which meant she was sidelined for several weeks and surrounded by hostile Freelancers.

Mark had changed out of his unassuming red-and-grey armour, now in Freelancer slate grey. He let out a heavy sigh and settled back into his chair. "So you know Jason and I re-enlisted. Don't get me wrong, we loved being back home. But after everything… I'd blame it on him always looking over his shoulder, but we both were. For so long, we'd been talking about being free to live life on our own terms again. But nowhere ever felt safe. It was easier to get back into routine on-base.

"We were in separate units. I think Jason liked it that way. It didn't feel like the old days too much when we were apart. But we were on the same world for our first tour, so it wasn't like we had the chance to miss each other. Next thing I know, MediCorps is calling me, telling me I have to go see my brother."

"Harper."

"Harper," he agreed. "Less than two months and he was on us. Jason didn't want to have skin grafts. So I didn't push him. The second he was discharged, the Director was there, dossiers in hand. Offering spots with Project Freelancer. Jason said yes before the actual request was out of the Director's mouth."

Hannah nodded. It sounded just like Jason to leap at the chance. "Byzantium?" she asked.

"It's like Harper wanted us to catch him."

"He did."

He grimaced. "Officially, it was York and Maine interrogating him. You know, good cop, bad cop routine. York likes to talk and he's the only one I've ever seen peel secrets out of hard sells like Harper. It's unreal. One day, Jason somehow convinced York to get a turn. I don't know what they talked about, I didn't even find out he went to see Harper until after. Just that he got pissed off whenever you came up in conversation. Never found out why. But maybe York knows. If anyone does, anyway."

Great. So her only hope was to talk to a known interrogator. Perfect.

Mark must have read the thought on her face. "Or, and hear me out on this one, you talk to Jason."

She threw him a look and said, "Sure, I bet that'll be a pleasant conversation. 'Hey, babe, what did your other lover tell you to turn you against me? I promise I won't be mad' sounds stupid."

"Because it is stupid."

"I thought you were on my side, Mark."

He rubbed his eyes. "There aren't any sides to be on."

She almost said he sounded like Phil. But she didn't think comparing Mark to his former captors would win any further favours. He was right, of course, and that had been her entire argument with the Freelancers. Nobody was on another side here. They were all Project Freelancer property now.

"Nothing'll get better unless you talk to Jason."

"I hate it when other people are right."

If anyone was shocked to see Hannah at breakfast, nobody commented. Nor were any complaints voiced when she picked a seat next to Rhode Island. They silently took in the bruises under Hannah's eyes and turned their attention to their toast.

As for the Freelancers who hadn't been in Hannah's quarters last night, none of them asked why she looked like shit warmed over.

After the meal, the team scattered to various duties aboard the Mother of Invention. Hannah found herself wandering to the bridge. The Director studied what was left of her face, but even he kept his opinions to himself. Ever the professional spook.

They spent the better part of the day going over troop movements, the restructured command chain and the other manufacturing plants the URF had set up. Where weapons were being stolen, who was overseeing operations and the wasteland base. Hannah admitted Phoenix had abandoned Byzantium as soon as they were able and would do the same to their current location. She even told Church about the deliberate state Byzantium had been left in, barely a shell worth scrapping over. And how likely it was the desert base was the same sort of trap for Freelancer.

It was all the sort of intel Harper and Phil would expect her to give. It wasn't a betrayal. Just enough to give Church to go on. Besides, Hannah didn't feel the slightest bit of loyalty to the URF anymore.

Maybe she never had.

It had always just been Phoenix, and they were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.

Tempers cooled off, but Hannah didn't let herself sleep through the night. And she kept her distance from Carolina and Minnesota for a week. Rhode Island hadn't truly warmed up to her, but they tolerated her presence the most, despite being close with Carolina. York, true to Mark's assessment, did his best to cozy up to Hannah. He devoted most of the team's PT to joking around and trying to involve her in casual conversation.

It scared her how easy he was to talk to. While she doubted he'd actually gotten anything useful out of someone as stubbornly alien and capable of bullshitting with a perfectly straight face as Harper, Hannah was willing to bet York could get Geist to sing his life story, given enough time. As it was, she let York talk about himself as much as he liked, but all she offered in response was stories from her ODST days.

As it turned out, it wasn't just breaking-and-entering York had been nailed with. He was an accomplished con artist, which fit comfortably with his fast-talking manner. Truth be told, he was nearly impossible to shut up and thrived as the centre of attention.

Nev was another teammate who seemed to have a pleasant head on her shoulders. More at home surrounded by computers than people, she reminded Hannah a great deal of Lucas. Unlike her best friend, however, Nev proved useless with every sort of weapon under the sun. She would have made a better analyst if it weren't for her way with all vehicles.

So between York, Nev, Rhode Island and Mark, Hannah filled her days with absolutely inane chatter about anything and everything. Settling into routine had been simple. Nothing really changed, regardless of whose armour she wore.

"Oh, my god, Mich, I swear if you call me New York one more time, I'm going to scream."

"How am I supposed to keep this many names straight? Seriously, I'm asking," she said. "And if you fold one more time, I'm going to scream."

Some people, as it turned out, were just useless at cards no matter how good their teacher was. And some people were just uncomfortably good at faking useless.

"Okay, look, it's easy. York. Short and sweet, right? Not too bad." But he laid down his hand and sat back from the table despite her protest.

"All right. Fine. York." She kicked him under the table.

"Nev." Nevada played with a chip, rolling it back and forth as she consulted her cards. After a beat, she slid the chip forward. "Just gonna call."

"Translation: you have a good hand and you suck at lying. Rhodey." Rhode Island pushed several chips into the pot. "I'll raise ten credits."

Mark's expression never wavered. He called without peeking at his hand.

"My memory's completely shot at this point. Do you know how many knocks I've had in the last year alone?" said Hannah.

But it was only to buy time. Rhodey was bluffing and they thought Nev was, too. Mark was the only one capable of scaring her. It was impossible to read him, no matter how often they played. He wasn't at all like Jason when it came to poker. His brother was expressive and nothing he tried could hide his strategy. He was a useless euchre partner, too. But Mark was subtle and took great pride in suckering anyone at the table over and over.

But with York folding, and the state of Hannah's hand, she wisely followed his lead.

"Pop quiz then."

Hannah groaned, more interested in the rest of the hand playing out than York.

"Our fearless leader."

"Why do you hate me?"

"Come on, this one's easy."

"You can do it, Hannah," Mark said absently. He was thoroughly engrossed in studying Cali for any scrap of information he could use.

"North Carolina?"

"Not to her face if you want to escape," York laughed. "Just Carolina. But hey, you were close!"

"Tell me again why this is at all important information to have," she complained. "Isn't it enough that I have your official codenames? I mean, come on, I get by just fine."

York stretched his long legs out under the table, apparently not the least bit worried about being kicked again. "Because we're people, too. Sometimes it's nice to hear a nickname from a friend. I'm sure you know the feeling."

Sure she did. But that didn't change the fact that half of Freelancer resented her presence. She sincerely doubted she would ever endear herself to most of them. And that was fine. She didn't have to be liked to get what she needed out of the Freelancers anyway. This was just a stop on her new crusade.

Hannah realized the silence had stretched a moment too long. "It's just weird. You've all been your proper codenames to me for so long that I got used to it."

"I'm happy to make everyone call you Blizzard until you learn their names." York smiled and schooled his expression into the very image of innocence.

"Absolutely not."

"And why not?"

"Because Blizzard's a job," she answered immediately. "Because 'Bliz' is a reminder not to be an asshole. Because that's not who I am anymore."

She kicked York again for making her say it.

He just laughed. "There you have it, folks. She speaks!"

Mark reluctantly conceded defeat to Rhodey and tuned back into the conversation. "Is now a good time to say I want a nickname?"

"Say it all you like, it suits you and it's too late to change it," said Nev.

"It's lame."

"It's short and snappy."

"Settle a bet. What came first, 'Rhodey' or the paint job?"

They shifted in their seat. "I don't want to talk about it."

York turned the full force of his charming smile their direction. "Can you paint mine? I'm a lost cause at art."

They snorted and dealt a fresh hand. "You're not my type, sweetie. Sorry, not sorry."

That didn't stop York from fluttering his eyelashes melodramatically.

"Who's betting on me anyway?"

Nev lifted a hand.

"You would. Who else?"

"Maine, Wyoming, Sota, me, Cal, Carolina and South."

"Wait, how do I get in on this?" asked Hannah, suppressing a wince when she saw her new cards.

"Hundred credits. That is, assuming you have any left after this game." York's grin was decidedly cat-swallowed-the-canary.

Mark's attention was gone. He waved at someone coming into the break room. "Gonna join us?"

Hannah knew who it was without looking. She'd know him anywhere. She sat up straighter. "I have a hundred credits," she said as if nothing had changed.

York was busy studying his hand and Nev's face in the awkward moment before Jason spoke.

"Doesn't look like there's room for one more."

"I was actually just leaving." Hannah tossed her cards down and stood. "I'll catch up with you later. Have a medic appointment to get to."

She waited for Jason to say something. Don't leave on my account.

He didn't.

Mark shot her a meaningful stare. She shook her head and held up a hand in lazy farewell.

She couldn't avoid him forever. Not when the medical staff declared her fit for duty and she was tossed back into the hall unceremoniously. Certainly not when he was waiting for her, leaning as casually as possible on the wall with his arms crossed.

"I had to work hard to prove myself."

Hannah started walking toward the range. She needed to make her hands busy. She wasn't due to send Lucas a report for another hour, and it would be a waste of time to sit in her quarters and think about life.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to win these guys over when they find out you were involved with one of the UNSC's most wanted?" Jason went on. After a beat he amended, "Two of them."

"Then maybe you should have done something when they were kicking the shit out of me," she retorted.

"I couldn't take them all on." For once, he had to hurry to keep up with her brusque pace.

"What a sweet sentiment," she said coldly. "Didn't stop Mark."

"You know what they called me for months?"

She kept almost-running without looking at him.

"Innie Fucker."

"Cute."

"Hannah, look at me. Please. I'm begging you."

She whirled and jabbed a finger into his sternum. "You were supposed to be there. You were supposed to listen. You were supposed to talk to me. You were supposed to help me. You were supposed to protect me. Like I did for you. But you didn't. You stonewalled me. For months. I gave you everything I had and you didn't care. This isn't my fault. This is yours. Fuck you, Jason. Don't turn this around on me."

He stopped short, expression slamming shut once again. "What the hell are you talking about? You're the one that wouldn't talk to me."

Hannah couldn't help the bubble of mirthless laughter. "We got fucking played, Jason. Church or Harper, doesn't matter. We're fucking stupid."

He stared down at her, discomfort breaking his careful mask. No doubt he was sinking in the same uncomfortable realization.

"Doesn't excuse what you did that night. You didn't stop them. You didn't help me. You stood there and let it happen."

"You forgave Rhodey," he said weakly.

"Rhodey hasn't been ignoring me. Rhodey wasn't my partner. They didn't know me. They didn't fuck me over for the sake of their new friends," she spat before spinning on a heel and resuming her forced march.

"What's your excuse, Shaw?"

His hurried footsteps started back up a second later. "Harper said—" He seemed to sense his mistake an instant too late.

"Fuck you, Jason," she growled again.

"You're right, it was stupid. I didn't know what to think. I hadn't heard from you for so long and Harper said you were happy with me gone. I-I thought you were. What else was I supposed to think?"

Hannah stopped cold without warning for the second time in as many minutes. She slammed her fist into the wall. The splintering pain in her hand—she could deal with that. She understood that. It was the emptiness opening in her chest she didn't know how to deal with. She pounded her knuckles against the wall again, breath coming short and sharp.

"Hannah." His hands were gentle on hers. "I'm sorry. Please, believe me."

"I do," she said. She shook him off and stepped back, making space so she could breathe. She caught his eye. "I believe you listened to him lie to you despite everything. I believe you chose him over me. I believe you didn't believe in us."

Hurt crashed over him. Jason fell back a step, too, eyes wide. The rest of the realization set in and he was drowning in it. Like she was.

"What I can't believe," she said, desperately trying to keep her voice from trembling and failing, "is how I didn't see this coming."

"Hannah, wait."

She hated herself for freezing. For not walking away right then and there. For being weak for Jason Shaw.

"I love you. Don't go."

She swallowed hard and pushed the ragged edge of her hair out of her eyes. "Then I guess you should have thought of that sooner."

"I mean it. I love you. Please believe that."

"Why should I? Clearly you love him more than me." She made a helpless gesture, losing her voice to the lump rising in her throat. She had always been weak for Jason Shaw. And this is what it had gotten her.

"I—" His throat worked and his expression folded along with hers. "Hannah." It came out as a whisper.

"What? What do you want me to say?"

God, she hated the way she sounded as the tears started to fall. The strangled way she sounded so small and helpless.

"I don't—I can't. Not with him. I love you."

She made the same helpless gesture. "Not enough."

"I would have waited forever for you," he pleaded.

"But you didn't."

Hannah left that hanging dead from the ceiling as she turned and walked away.

Play audio message.

Circuit. Maybe leaving was a mistake. The other Shaw's here. Church is a spook. Was any of this intel worth it? I miss home. Miss you guys. And next time I see Harper, I'm going to kill him.

End audio message.

"Hannah?" Mark tossed his data pad onto his desk and pulled her into his quarters.

She all but collapsed onto the edge of the bed, dragging him down next to her. She couldn't get a word out when the sobbing started, even if she wanted to.

"Aw, Starlight," he murmured, hugging her tight like Lucas would have. Like Dom would have.

Like Jason would have.

She strangled that thought and buried it too deep to find its way back to the light.

"It'll be okay," said Mark, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

But they both knew that was a lie.

When Hannah finally calmed down, she realized Mark was still holding her as if she was about to shatter into a million painful shards. She pulled away and saw the big wet spot on his chest.

"God, Mark, I'm sorry. You should have…"

What? What could he have done while she'd completely lost it?

He shrugged. "Yeah, I should have smacked him upside the head a long time ago."

"I don't want to talk about Jason."

He nodded once, giving her the space to get her head on straight. To decide what she did want to talk about.

She brushed a stray section of hair out of his eyes. Immediately Mark had her wrists in his grip.

"Hannah," he warned.

"What? He made his choice. I've made mine. I want you to choose this. Choose me instead of him for once."

Please.

She couldn't say it. She couldn't let that single word break her. Couldn't face him and beg, opening the door for him to hurt her any worse.

Mark's eyes closed. Hannah felt like she was sinking again. Like she'd go under and never resurface. And maybe that would be all right.

"You're hurting and you're not thinking clearly. This isn't a good idea." His eyes opened. They were a darker shade of blue than she was used to. A little more grey. "I can't do that to him."

"I said I don't want to talk about Jason," she repeated stubbornly.

"Then respect my boundaries with him in return."

"He picked Harper over me," she breathed, giving the idea life. She couldn't get the image of the two of them in a cell out of her head. Of that old hungry look on Jason's face as he watched Harper's every move. She hadn't wanted to talk about Jason, but maybe she ought to.

Had she been so stupid as to believe he wouldn't cave into that need? That she would be enough for him?

"Then he's a complete idiot, but he's still my brother."

There might as well have been an inch of glass between them. They might as well have been back in that hall. Kept a world apart. There had been something between them for so long now. Years. Whether it was Jason, the cell, endless space, or something more—she didn't know. Never would

"You're right," she said heavily. "You don't owe me anything anymore. We're even."

"What are you talking about?"

"I saved you. You saved me. We're even."

His grip on her arms loosened enough that she wiggled free. But his gaze was intent as he watched her trying desperately to hide her embarrassment at being rebuffed.

"That's not how friendships work and you know it." Now he sounded like the entirety of Phoenix.

"You know, I've heard that before somewhere.

"I can't do this again, Mark," she said when it became clear he didn't have anything to add. "I'm not falling for him just to have my heart stepped on again. The third time was enough."

"And how many chances did he give you?"

She flinched at the reminder of how she had failed Jason. The first camping trip. Their song in the gym. Did breaking Mark out count?

"As many as I've given him. But I never cheated."

Because that's what this was. The relationships between Hannah and Jason, and between Jason and Harper had never been strictly defined. It had always been a painful point for Hannah and Harper—and it turned out to be the common ground they had needed to call the uneasy truce. But there had been rules. If Hannah and Harper hadn't been allowed to force Jason, Harper had broken that rule. And Jason hadn't fought it. He'd thrown himself over the line eagerly without so much as a comment to Hannah that they were through. Without doing her the courtesy of hearing her out.

"I'm done. I'm not giving him the chance to fuck me over again. I'm quitting. Like I should have a long, long time ago," she said. She reached for Mark again, cupping his face with her sore hands.

"Don't make me your rebound."

He gently removed her hands again.

"Then don't be one," she said with false bravado.

"You two have some serious shit to work out."

She jumped to her feet and threw her hands into the air. "Jesus Christ, Mark, you're not even listening to me. I'm not doing it. I'm not. I'm not. Jason and I are over. He was the one that got away—and he should have stayed away. I should be dead now, but I'm not and there isn't much I can do except wish I was. There isn't anything left to give, but it sure would be fucking nice to be missed when I'm gone."

"Oh, no. Don't put this on me." He flopped back on his bed and gazed up at the low ceiling. "You have plenty of people who care about you. This is crazy."

"Sorry to say it, but we left crazy years ago. This is something else now, Mark. I've lost everything. Everyone I loved. They're dead or gone. And I did this. I couldn't stop any of it from happening. So for once in my nonstop shitshow of a life, can I have a single thing I want?"

"Hannah, listen to yourself right now. You aren't thinking straight. Sit back down. Please." He patted the sheet beside him as if coaxing a pet to settle in.

She stopped the stream of poisonous thoughts spilling out of her mouth and sucked down massive gulps of air. But she couldn't make herself sit.

After a minute of quiet, Mark pulled himself upright again. "Do you want to try any of that again?" he asked, voice gentle.

"Everything I touch turns to shit, period. Orange. Jason. Phoenix. Us." She raked a hand through her hair. "I came here to fix things. I can't even keep my life under control. How could I stop a war?"

He sighed, letting his shoulders sag. "Nobody has their life under control. And if someone says they do, they're lying. Trust me."

"And you don't want me."

Mark met her gaze steadily. He said nothing.

"I…" Her voice gave out. She tried again, "I should really go."

"Things will look better after some sleep, Hannah. I promise."

"Yeah. Sleep. Sure."

"I mean it. Get some rest and take things one day at a time. It's okay to not have everything figured out. We can get a start on that war another day. It'll still be here," he said, a touch sardonically.

She nodded absently. "I'd appreciate it if we didn't talk about all this tomorrow. I'd rather forget I made a complete ass of myself. I just… I can't lose you, too."

Mark's lips twitched into a faint smile. "You aren't going to lose me. I'm always going to be here."

"Thanks." She shifted uncomfortably. "Good night, I guess."

"Good night, Starlight."

Hannah thought she heard him sigh again as the door closed. She tried to put it out of her mind—along with everything else—and climbed into bed. She could only hope things seemed better in the morning.

Because right now, it felt like everything was still falling apart.