Darkest Hour

An Until Dawn Collaboration

Chapter 10

Unintentional

Washington Family - Washington Residence - 6:00 pm

"Just remember to be yourself, Ms. Washington."

The interviewer kept saying this line to Hannah as the makeup artist caked her face with makeup and the hair stylist fluffed her long hair.

Funny… she'd never felt less like her self than this very moment, under the blank stare of an unrecognizable girl reflected in the mirror in front of her.

Her head and her heart felt heavy. She made herself believe it was from all the makeup and hair spray and not the constant pounding in her brain.

But she couldn't even remember the interviewer's name, let alone the runthrough questions she kept being reminded of. She was even given a sort of script the night before of what would be asked and what kind of answers she should give.

'Be short, but honest. Cry at appropriate moments. Don't look directly at the camera. Don't stray from the questions asked.'

'Be natural.'

Hannah didn't even know what that meant. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her parents being fitted with microphones while her brother watched on - but still no sign of Sam. She was supposed to be there by now - she promised she'd stand on the side for moral support.

But so far, she was a no-show.

"Where's Sam?" Hannah asked in mostly vowels toward her parents at Josh, but received wide eyes and head shakes in response. She wasn't surprised - aside from sleeping over in the guest room last week, Sam had still been evading Josh and in turn, Hannah as well.

"She'll be here," Josh halfheartedly assured her, helping his mom clip the microphone to the hem of her skirt waist.

Her parents were due to be interviewed as well, but for legal reasons, Josh wasn't allowed. She guessed no one trusted him to not say anything insane on camera. And - apparently - they were going to be live. That fact was apparently disclosed to her when she first agreed to the interview, but she must have blocked it out because the drop in her stomach when she was reminded an hour ago was all too intense.

"Let's give the audience an accurate account of what happened to you, Ms. Washington-."

She wanted to tell her to just call her Hannah but her tongue was sorely dry.

"Have them feel what you felt."

Hannah was sure all of the people she knew would be tuning in. News of the infamous Hannah Washington finally giving her story of the Mysterious Disappearance of the Insanely Rich Washington Twins was not something most people wanted to miss out on. She wished Sam was right there with her though.

She needed someone to hold her hand.

Her dark eyes wandered over to Josh, wishing he could be that person. But even now, his eyes were distant, unfocused. He appeared to already be checked out of the current situation - the one he was wholeheartedly against from the start.

"Are you ready, Ms. Washington?"

She didn't move, but the interviewer must have seen her nod.

The makeup station parted from them as the interviewer sat up straight. She patted her hair gently, cleared her throat once, then looked at the camera as the red light came on. A producer silently counted off, 4-3-2… and then pointed at them.

They were on.

Just like that.

"Good evening, and thank you for tuning in to The Hannah Washington Story. I'm your host, Irene Weller, and I have here with me… Hannah Washington herself." She sounded so calm, professional yet caring, that for a brief moment, Hannah felt her heart rate slow.

"How are you, Hannah?"

Now she calls me Hannah…. Like we're old friends or something.

"Good." Hannah responded simply and she couldn't help but notice how her voice sounded like a scared five-year-old.

"Excellent," Irene said with a soft smile before crossing her legs and leaning forward just slightly, "And how does it feel to be back?"

Hannah could actually feel herself nodding this time, really trying to act natural as the camera's single red eye that was the portal to a million other eyes beamed only on her, "Good. Really good…"

Irene held her smile, though it felt to Hannah like she was waiting for her to say more. Was she supposed to say more? What else could she say to that question? If Irene was actually any good at her job, she'd actually ask questions that warranted more than 1-word responses. Hannah regretted agreeing to this particular interview when she could have easily done Dateline.

She felt her palms get sweaty and she tried to nonchalantly rub them against her skirt.

Irene glanced down at her notecard quickly, then her eyes were back to Hannah's as she asked, "Well, first off, I wanted to personally thank you for allowing us to speak with you in your home. The world needs to hear your story, Hannah."

Silence. …. AGAIN, what am I supposed to say to that?!

Irene was a professional though. She moved right along, "So tell me how all of this started for you. What happened one year ago?"

Hannah's mouth ran dry, but her brain told her not to overthink it. Whatever you do, don't go silent. Just talk talk talk talk talk-

"The ten of us-

"The ten of who?" Irene interrupts and Hannah feels a sigh dying to escape her lips.

"Friends… It was my brother, my sister, and some close friends. We went up to the lodge - it was something we did every year - but someone pulled a prank, and I got upset. I ran out into the blizzard even tho-"

"You say a prank…. What kind of a prank, Hannah?" Irene interrupted again before Hannah could babble on.

Hannah pursed her lips and could feel her body temperature rise. She imagined all the makeup melting off her face - imagined being on camera with nothing but a pale face and sunken eyes.

"It's okay, Hannah. Take your time," Irene tried to reassure her after long seconds of silence. But even though Irene said it, Hannah somehow knew she actually met Hurry up and answer the damn question.

"It was just… just a stupid prank…" It was the most embarrassed I've ever been. "They didn't mean anything by it…" They were only being vindictive and vicious. "But I just - I needed some air so I went out to the woods and Beth came-."

"And Beth Washington was your twin sister, right?"

Hannah knew everyone watching knew who Beth was. And she wasn't sure if Irene really stressed and shouted that ugly past tense, but that was the only word echoing through her head.

"What happened to cause Beth's death, and how did you go on surviving?" Irene paused again but when Hannah didn't answer, she went on, "You're a survivor, Hannah. You went through something most people can't even imagine. Please...tell us your story."

Irene's tone was patient. Calm. Nice. But she was pushing. She had to - this was a live interview after all.

"I got taken in… saved by… a man that was living in the sanitorium. He-," a lump formed in her throat as she was reminded of his head being thrown through the window at her feet.

"I read the police reports," Irene leaned in closer, "His name was Jacob Calloway and, according to the journal he kept, he had been living in solitude for a few decades. And yet he kept you locked up with him this whole year." Irene's eyes softened as she prepared for her next question, "He kept you as his prisoner. Now-."

"No, it wasn't like that," Hannah blurted. But really, the only thing that was swirling in her mind was The Stranger's name. He told her he didn't have a name. Never even let her make up a name to call him. And for the whole year, she wasn't even Hannah because he refused to acknowledge her as such.

"Was there ever an opportunity that you could have escaped? I read that your leg was badly injured. But did you ever try?"

Hannah visibly jumped at the word. Was Irene really raising her voice?

"Did he hurt you?" Irene's voice was soft again, like she was talking to a small child.

"N-no, never," Hannah answered, feeling very protective for this stranger named Jacob Calloway, "He helped me."

Irene bit her bottom lip briefly, her red lips standing out harshly against her perfect white teeth, "He kept you hidden from the world… you were never able to-."

Hannah felt the words NO ONE CAME FOR ME bubbling in her throat, but something inside her swallowed this sentence, but the strain brought tears to her eyes. She couldn't focus on Irene or the camera any longer.

"Um… sorry, I know this is hard for you, Hannah. But… two of your friends, Jessica Riley and Matthew Taylor, were recently found dead. Now…" Irene's eyes averted to behind Hannah for only a second, but it was obvious she was keeping an eye on Josh, "word has it that... your brother, Josh Washington, had been in and out of the hospital for mental illness this past year, and he wasn't on any sort of medication during the time you were found."

It was only when Irene averted the conversation to this topic did Hannah remember the real reason she agreed to do this stupid interview: so she could clear Josh's name. And to do that, she would have to blame The Stranger.

No.

Jacob Calloway.

"Jacob Calloway did it." Hannah deadpanned.

"Did… what, Hannah?" Irene pushed.

"He killed Jessica and Matt."

"Oh… um," Irene looked back at her crew. She was obviously thrown off guard from the confession, "But...you just said he helped you?"

"I did."

"But he murdered your two friends?"

"He thought they were trying to bring me back."

"Erm…" it was obvious that Irene was really wanting to run with this information, but was still trying to keep the tone steady, "I thought you said he wasn't keeping you captive?"

All the while, Josh was looking on in what could only be described as horror at this interview unfolding before him. His parents stood beside him, every once in awhile whispering something to each other, but Josh could only half question why they weren't doing anything to end it.

"Hannah, did he or did he not hold you captive? And if not, why didn't you leave?"

Then he watched as Hannah turned her head away from Irene who was still trying to get a straight answer. Hannah's eyes found his in an instant. The terror, the anger, the desperation for help written so clearly made him realize that, despite him being physically and mentally absent from her since she got back, that she was still turning to him for help. She still trusted and loved him more than anyone, and for him to let the interview continue would be the worst thing he could let happen to his sister.

"Okay!" He shouted suddenly, causing everyone in the room to jump at his booming voice, "Interview's over!" He stepped over to Hannah, entering the camera's view. Hannah's eyes were wide as she stared at him.

"Excuse me-" Irene began, sitting up straight in her chair.

"Joshua, step down," his father's voice tried to reason with him.

"No," Josh said simply, waving his hand at her dismissively, "Bullshit. Hannah's clearly been done from the start and she shouldn't have to tell her story-," he stepped up close to the camera in a few long steps until his face took up the whole view, "to all you sick fuckin' voyeurs out there."

"Cut!" One of the camera crew called, and Josh smirked knowing that his last line still got aired on TV.

"Mr. Washington, we only wanted to-," Irene tried to explain, but Josh only raised his middle finger to her.

"You know, Ms. - Whatever-the-fuck-your-name-is, you're the worst kind of people," he got up close to her, his eyes wide, a small grin curving his lips, "You pretend you care...you even sound like you care...but deep down, you just feed off of other people's misery."

"Josh!" His mom intervened, and he could already tell from her tone that she wasn't angry at him, but was still trying to do the right thing by ending the conversation before it went any further.

He shrugged past Irene and went to Hannah, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the chair she was forced to sit in, "Let's go see how Balto's doing."

Josh and Sam - Barred Studio - 7:30 pm

Josh's anger was palpable - and clearly misplaced - as he stormed into the pilates studio a few blocks away from Sam's apartment. Josh ripped open the glass door to the lobby, the bells on the door chiming violently against his force. The place reeked of essential oils and the perfume of rich, kept wives who were all-too-willing to throw away their husband's money.

"Um, excuse me-" the cute blonde (NOT Sam) behind the counter called out to him, both scared and indignant, all at the same time.

"Yeah, Hi. Where's Sam?"

"She's about to start class but you can't just-"

Her words were at his back as he stomped on past her, nearly crashing into another cute blonde (NOT Sam) on his way.

"Excuse me," he mumbled, heading down the long hallway to the aerobics room, following the thumping of the drums and the deafening bass line. He pushed the doors open, not at all taken aback by the twenty-or-so stares from curious, suburban trophy wives.

There was a cute blonde (SAM) leading the class with a headset off, and Josh arrived just to hear her cooing over the speakers for them to, "reach, and breathe, and find your center."

The class began to murmur, watching him watch them uncomfortably. Josh went to call out to Sam, but for a second his anger melted away as he watched her bend at the waist, reaching for the floor and suddenly he could think of nothing other than the way she tastes or the pressure of her small body atop his.

He shook it off quickly, the ire returning the moment he remembered why he was here.

"Sam," he yelled out and she snapped up, looking over her shoulder at him with a puzzled look on her face that instantly gave way to pure, unadulterated, anger.

"You need to leave," she halted him with her hand, the other pointing back at the doors. But Josh just planted his feet firmly on the ground, crossing his arms over his chest. It took less than a millisecond before Sam was charging toward him.

The eyes of the women in the class leered back at him in terror, as though he were about to pull out an assault weapon and just mow them all down. He held his hands up in surrender to them, "oh, just relax," he snapped, all but rolling his eyes. "I'm not here to kill you."

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam gritted her teeth, grabbing him by the arm of his jacket and yanking him away from the center of the room and the center of attention.

"We need to talk-"

"I am at work!"

"I don't really care."

"Well, that's clear," Sam scoffed, nodding towards one of the girls in the front of class, "Selena. Lead the warm up. I'll be right back, I need to take care of this."

Sam all but shoved Josh back through the doors to the hallway, the two of them nearly plowing right into the blonde receptionist, there clutching a phone in her hand.

"Claire, what are you do-"

"Do I need to call the police?" the petite girl threatened Josh, waving the phone at him with her trembling hands. Sam stepped between the two of them, her hands up, "whoa, whoa, no. Claire. It's fine, I've got this-"

"You can't just barge in here like this!" Claire raised her voice, and Sam lowered hers to try to calm the scared girl down.

"No, he can't. I am taking care of this, just go back out to the front," Sam ordered, and after a few moments of hesitation, Claire receded back to the front of the building.

"I can't believe you-"

"I can't believe you," Josh hurled back at her. Sam's face scrunched and she stepped back from him.

"What are you even talking about now?"

"Where were you today?"

"I was working. See, unlike you Josh, some of us actually have to work for a living-"

"The interview, Sam. You were supposed to be there. Why didn't you show?" Sam groaned the moment it clicked in her mind and she remembered she was supposed to be there today. She'd been so preoccupied avoiding Josh that she'd completely blocked it out. She'd promised.

Sam ran her hands down her face, shaking her head and scoldingly mumbling at herself, "sorry. Sorry." After a few seconds of beating herself up, Sam's hands dropped to her side and she heaved a shrug. "I was working. I had to work."

"Oh, that's bullshit, you know that?" Josh spat back at her, crossing his arms over his chest disapprovingly.

"Do not sit here and scold me, Josh. You're not my dad-"

"No. And you've made it clear I'm not even really your friend anymore, Sam. So I guess right now, you can consider me Hannah's big brother. And you fucked up today-"

"Oh, get off your high-horse, Josh. Did you ever think part of why I haven't been around is because of you?"

"Oh, it is?" Josh challenged, and Sam found herself nodding along with him. She crossed her own arms over her chest, mirroring his stubbornness.

"Yeah."

"Great. Good. Wonderful," Josh seethed, leaning in close, "but grow the fuck up."

"What?!"

"You heard me, Sam. Grow up."

"Get the fuck out of here, Josh," Sam fumed, pushing past him. "Or I really will let Claire call the cops." Sam's eyes darted down the hall, and Josh's followed to find Claire peeking around the corner, phone still in hand.

"Stand down, Claire," Josh called out to her, his hand out as though to stop her.

Sam's hand pressed against the door to let herself back into the class, but she stopped when she heard Josh go on anyway, "Sam. Listen. I can't take back what I did-"

"No, you can't-" She was going to advise him that a real apology would suffice, but never got the words out before he went on.

"But quit punishing Hannah. She's been through enough-"

"I'm not punishing Hannah-"

"No. But you're punishing me. And that's fucking fine, I can take it. But quit avoiding Hannah because of me. She needs you, and you can't keep running away just because things are weird between you and I right now."

Fuck.

He was right.

Shitballs.

"Look. I'll leave," Josh promised her, and it was hard for her to look at anything other than his face when he looked at her like that - so sincere. "I'll go find stuff to do o-or I'll stay on my wing of the house. It'll be like I'm not even there. But don't stay away because of me. It's not fair to Hannah. And you fucking know it."

"Are you done?" Sam finally asked, her voice short and curt. But Josh felt relief in knowing she at least heard what he had to say. He wasn't right about a lot of things, but he was right about this.

"Yeah. Fine. We're done."

"Good," Sam said, her voice and her face softening. "I'll call Hannah later when I'm off."

"Fine."

"Now get out of my studio."

"Gladly."

Hannah and Mike - Mike's Apartment - 11:06 pm

Mike [10:03 pm]: I'm really glad you're ok

Hannah didn't even know why she was there. Just because Mike texted her randomly, something that needed an explanation but somehow expressed so much, didn't mean she needed to come to his apartment and check on him.

She didn't want to.

Hannah [10:43 pm]: What are you talking about?

But he didn't respond to her and, despite everything, it made her worried about him. Mike had been not only trying to make amends with her but grieving Beth and Jessica and trying to avoid Emily. It almost made her feel bad, and she didn't want to, and yet she found herself concerned about him.

So at around 11 pm, she knocked heavily on his door, standing outside his townhouse for a good twenty seconds before deciding to give up. She definitely didn't want to come across as if she cared so much that she would wait outside for him forever. But as she turned to leave, almost relieved that she wouldn't have to face him, the lock on the door made a loud click that made her heart stop.

The door opened and, turning around, Hannah saw Mike looking out with bloodshot eyes and a slightly dazed look.

"Hannah?"

"Are you drunk?" She asked even though the answer was obvious.
"I wouldn't say drunk," he answered, his words heavy but thankfully not too slurred, "What are you doing here?"

She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling defensive. He was the one that didn't answer her text and made her think something was wrong, and he had the nerve to ask her what she was doing there?

"You sent me a very cryptic text," she said sarcastically, her lips pulled tight as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket to look at the message, even though she knew very well what it said. She deepened her voice to mock his, 'I'm really glad you're okay.' Like...what the shit?"

He groaned and leaned against his door panel, his eyes closing momentarily, "Don't fucking read into it, Hann….I was really just saying-."

"Don't you dare start talking to me like that again," she said, holding up her finger, a stern look on her face as if she were criticizing a child, "We're past that. Way past that."

"That's not what I-," he sighed, "Fuck, do you wanna come in?"

It was an odd invitation; one that she wasn't even sure she wanted to take. Again, she didn't even know why she came over here. She wished she were back home in bed under the covers, watching a simple, mind numbing romantic comedy. But his curved eyebrows, the way it made his face look like that of a sad puppy, made her wish she even thought she could say no to him.

"So tell me what's going on," she demanded as she pushed past him and entered his apartment. She kept her jacket on, not wanting him to believe that she was planning on staying any longer than necessary.

He pushed the door shut, his hand remaining in the air as it clicked closed, "I don't know what you want me to say, Hann."

"Stop calling me that," she demanded, not even in a harsh tone, but one that told him that he was nowhere near where he needed to be to give her a familiar nickname.

Mike threw up his hands in defeat before walking over to his kitchen counter and grabbing the glass with the tiny amount of clear liquid and shooting it back, "Look, if you still don't want to talk, then-."

"I'm here, aren't I?" She snapped quickly, wishing she could will her feet out the door. But instead, she watched him shuffle his way over to his couch. He slumped down on the right side, his elbow resting on the armrest, his hand closing over his eyes to block out the light and the stress.

"Look, I had a really shit day," Hannah divulged, pressing her thumb and her index finger against the bridge of her nose to fend off a headache. She was exhausting - since they'd found Jess and Matt she hadn't been sleeping. The interview was just icing on the cake.

"Oh shit. The interview…" Mike nearly whispered.

"Yeah," Hannah shot back shortly, "great idea by the way. Real winner."

"Shit. Sorry... that bad?" was all he could manage.

"Well, it wasn't good..."

Hannah kept her arms crossed, now just feeling awkward instead of completely in control. He had been trying so hard to get her to talk to him these past few weeks that him hardly seeming to care was a change she wasn't quite ready for. She walked around his couch so she was standing confidently over him, "Oh, look. I endured a whole year out there on the cold, wendigo-infested mountain, but big, tough Mike is drinking away his sorrows."

Mike caught onto her mocking tone right away and stood up quickly, his face in hers but his eyes out of focus, "Hannah, I don't know what the fuck your problem is-I mean, I do, but-bitch nuts, you just-you never bothered to talk to me before, why now? I didn't ask you to come over."

"You texted me, Mike, so don't-."

"Hannah, I texted you that I…" he stopped, noticing her phone still in her hand, and snatching it from her quickly.

"Mike, give me back-."

He looked at his message that she still had open, "I said that I'm glad you're okay. You were making me think I drunkenly wrote something else. This is me telling you that-despite you blaming me for what happened-and not wanting to accept my apology-that I'm glad you're home safe and...and to just...go be happy."

Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, because his tone was so genuine yet drained, that she wasn't sure how to read him, "What are you saying…?"

He wasn't making any sense.

Then again, drunk people usually didn't.

Hannah couldn't help but think this was an utter waste of time.

Mike chuckled, his body flopping back down on the couch, his head thrown back against the cushion, "I'm saying that I'll leave you alone, Hannah. Hold a grudge against me if you want, but don't make me the point of your unhappiness."

Hannah began grinding her teeth, a bad habit she always had, but something she thought she grew herself out of due to the high amounts of everyday stress on the mountain. She hated him for making this all so simple. Nothing was simple ever since the prank her friends pulled on her over a year ago. There was no such thing as simple.

"Don't go acting all heroic now. You never had anyone's best interests in mind except your own," she spat, and she hated how resentful and cruel she sounded. She thought back to all the times when Mike was completely drained because of how bitchy Emily was to him. It made her think that she would be perfect for Mike, because he was always telling her what a sweet girl she was. And she knew that she would spoil Mike if he was her boyfriend. She would make sure he was never sad.

His eyes shot up to hers, and he was surprised to see such regret behind all her venom. He knew she was expecting him to snap back at her for such a hateful comment, and though he felt harsh words on the tip of his tongue, he simply didn't have it in him to argue with her; "You only know your side of the story, Hann...but there are two sides to everything."

"Let me guess," she mocked, her voice cracking due to the rising anger she felt bubbling in the pit of her stomach-and what was worse, she was madder at herself at that moment than him.

Mike heard the hitch in her words and when she didn't finish her sentence, he knew she was fighting to keep her hard stance. He motioned over to the other end of the couch, "Can you just...sit down? You're here, obviously for a reason...maybe you should let me explain?"

Hannah switched her weight from one foot to the other. She looked toward his front door, knowing it should be so easy to just walk out; she's done it up until this point. Why go soft now?

She shook her head, not even sure if there was a coherent thought going through her mind. She needed to go before she gave him what he wanted. She looked down at him one last time before hurriedly turning toward the door and practically running to escape.

"Hannah, stop!" He yelled, right as she was reaching for the doorknob. He saw her freeze, her whole body tense, her fingers only an inch away from opening the door. He stood up quickly, automatically becoming dizzy when all the alcohol hit him hard. Mike walked around the couch, staring at the back of Hannah who was refusing to turn around.

But he kept his distance, not wanting her to flee if he could prevent it-even though he had a completely different mindset earlier in the night. He told himself that tonight would be the night that he let her go. They both had to move on if either of them wanted the second chance at life that they were miraculously given.

He looked down at his left hand, taking note of his two missing fingers. It was the constant reminder of what happened that night, even though his mind was more scarred than his body. Mike breathed in deeply, dropping his hand but not quite looking up to her, "Stop-running. Haven't you done enough of that already?"

She didn't answer him. Hannah stared hard at her hand, telling herself to just turn the knob already. This felt like a trap. First, he told her to leave so she can be happy, and now he was telling her to stay.

"What advice do you think Beth would give you right now?" He asked her, causing her heart to pound heavily. She could hear him breathing despite him being so far away from her. It was something she became aware of since she got back: the heavy beating of hearts and steady breaths of a living person. It was something she was beginning to think she was imagining in herself when she laid awake trying to figure out if she was really alive or not.

"I bet she would say…" Mike started when Hannah didn't offer him an answer, even though he wasn't expecting her to, "grudges breed hatred and hatred kills souls."

Hannah couldn't help but smirk when she heard these words. She remembered watching a B-movie with Beth with that line in it and they both made fun of it. She wished she could remember which movie it was.

She quickly frowned when she realized that she would never hear those words from her sister again. She came to this realization a long time ago, but there were still times when it was hard to admit.

"Hannah…?"

His voice was so low and dejected that she couldn't even help it when she turned around toward him. His curious eyes met hers.

"How's Wolfie?"

A smile wanted to curve her lips but she fought against it, but from the slight glimmer that returned to Mike's eyes, she knew that she was showing him a little bit of amusement, "His name is Balto."

"Right, right…" he ran a hand back through his hair and she hated how handsome it made him look, "Wolfie is like a...like a last name. Balto Wolfie. B-Dubs, you know?"

She rolled her eyes but finally grinned, "I don't know why he likes you so much…"

"Well…" he stepped toward her, "they say pets take after their owners…"

Her smile instantly disappeared, "No." Hannah's single word stopped him in his tracks again.

"No?"

"I'm leaving," she announced flatly, "I don't know why I came here-."

"Because you were worried about me," he told her, once again feeling confident enough to step toward her, "Because you thought I was giving up on you and you couldn't handle it." Another step. He could feel her wanting to leave and she could feel him wanting to rush toward her, "Because there's still something between us and-."

"Everything's changed," she told him, "Don't make it seem like anything is still the same."

"I'm not!" He emphasized rawly, "I'm just telling you what you already know but aren't admitting to yourself. Haven't you realized yet that life is too short to do the hokey-pokey and turn yourself around bullshit? Three people we know are dead and they're never going to get the chance to figure out anything ever again!"

Hannah shook her head, "I thought for over a year that I was dead. All of you were dead to me because I thought I'd never see you again." Her voice once again cracked as she recalled all the dark thoughts she had since February 2nd, 2014. She never once talked about these thoughts to anyone yet, however. Not even Sam. And she knew that Sam meant well, but she was bad at expressing and listening to feelings. Hannah tried to talk to Sam about her feelings for Mike a few years ago, but the most she ever got out of her best friend was, 'Wow, really, Hann?' And it bugged her, but she felt like she was bugging Sam with her crush. She wondered if she would have been able to get over Mike if she just had someone to express her thoughts to.

She hid her face in her hands, her world spinning behind her closed eyelids, "I'm just so fucking tired…"

Mike saw her swaying and moved close to her, his hands outstretched just in case, "You okay?"

Hannah jumped when she heard him so close, having not even heard him come near her. She blinked rapidly, trying to get her vision back, and Mike noticed how bloodshot her eyes suddenly were.

"Have you been sleeping?" He asked her.

She waved her hands in front of her, her eyes going down to the floor that showed the distance between them, "No, but-it's fine, you're just an energy sucker," and before he could say what she knew he was going to, she said, "And don't even say,' she deepened her voice, "'that's what she said'."

He chuckled and just hearing his deep laugh made her smile almost shyly up at him, though it was mostly from drained energy.

"You can crash here if-."

"No, that's not a good idea," she turned down instantly, because she didn't trust herself to spend the night with Michael Munroe. If she thought it was hard to sleep in the comfort of her own bed, she couldn't even imagine how hard it would be to sleep in the same vicinity as Mike.

Mike felt almost completely sober now and like he was trying to talk to a drunk person, "Can I walk you home at least then?"

"I can take care of myself," she snapped, the loudness of her voice making her head spin again.

"It's not fucking about that, Hannah," he said, quickly wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. Her cheek collided with his chest and the feel of his heavy hand on the back of her head made her feel like she was being hidden from the cold, hard world and she was embraced in a safety blanket.

It only took an instant for her eyes to roll to the back of her head and her body to slump like dead weight against his. Mike felt her knees buckle, his arms tightening their hold on her so she didn't collapse to the floor.

"Sweet blazing Bisquick, Hann.. .when was the last time you slept?" Mike heard her mumble against his chest but he didn't think it was any actual words. He felt completely awful for her, because he was sure she hadn't let on to anyone that she wasn't sleeping and that she was able to put on an act to not make it seem like she wasn't.

"Please don't punch me in the face…" he murmured as he picked her up, cradling her as he walked to his his bedroom to lay her down. He couldn't believe she passed out in just a few short seconds. But even as he lowered her to his bed, she didn't even move. He took her glasses off and placed them on his bedside table.

His lamp was on and it illuminated her sleeping face perfectly. This was the first time he was able to actually look at her. Every other time, she was always turning away from him before he could get too close and it pierced his heart every time. Not only did he replay the moment he pulled the prank on her, the way her sad and betrayed eyes met his just briefly before she bolted from the room out into the snow without a jacket. And it didn't even end there. He could still see the bitter hatred in Beth's eyes as she turned specifically toward him as she said, "You guys are jerks!" And he knew Beth wanted to say so much more to them - to him - and it took everything in her to keep it PG, but he was prepared to get scolded when she returned with Hannah.

How did just wanting to protect his best friend turn into killing her? Why did life have to work like that? But then again - whatever was in control of life - fate or whatever - made him go into that sanitorium and find Hannah. And didn't that make up for something?

He dropped to his knees beside the bed, burying his face in his crossed arms that he rested beside Hannah. He was just as tired as she was - wait, no, probably not that tired. But he was definitely exhausted and seeing her finally letting down her guard was more than he ever hoped to happen tonight. He really believed that tonight was going to be the end and as much as it pained him to think that, he thought he was doing what was best for Hannah and that's all that mattered to him at this point.

He blindly reached over to turn off the lamp, the bright bulb making his eyes ache. But as soon as he clicked the knob, Hannah jumped up from the bed, her legs swinging over the side and accidentally kicking Mike on the side of the head.

"Mother fucking cake squad, that hurt like shit," Mike muttered, holding his head as he laid on the floor, his knees bent and shaking as he tried to reclaim himself.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what - you can't just…" Hannah felt dizzy but wide awake, adrenaline pumping through her veins, her body automatically going into defensive mode.

"Hannah, calm - down," Mike said, jumping to his feet when he noticed the wildness in her tone.

She pointed in his face as she walked around him, "Don't tell me to calm down!"

Mike grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers rougher than he intended, "But you need to, Hannah, this isn't good for you! You haven't even talked to anyone since you got back! A lot of shit happened to y-."

"Stop telling me what I have to do! I'm not staying here, I'm not calming down, and I'm not talking to anyone!" She snatched her hand away from him, though she was surprised how hard it was to tug away from his strong grasp, "Why are you doing this?!"

"What am I doing?!" He yelled, his anger rising with his voice, "I'm trying to help you!"

"I never asked for your help!" She said - as well as Mike, in a mocking tone, because he knew that was exactly what she was going to say.

"You're such a fucking dick…" she muttered, walking past him to his front door; she had more than enough of him tonight. Every time she thought maybe everything could be okay, she reminded herself that it never would be.

He caught her before she reached the door, his left hand wrapping around her forearm - she could feel where his fingers were missing (something that was, quite honestly, her fault; she could have easily warned him, even though she believed he truly was an idiot for sticking his hand where it didn't belong), and spinning her around. She didn't have time to yell before he crashed his lips on hers. They both felt their front teeth clack together because of the force, but his death grip on her arms kept her from moving. Her fingers wavered right above his shoulders, her mind caught in an unpredictable battle of wanting to pull him closer or push him away.

Mike ended up pulling away first, their heavy breaths hot and ragged, before she finally shoved him away from her.

"Prick," she whispered harshly, her fingers ghosting over her bruised lips before she turned and finally left.

Josh and Hannah - Washington Residence - 12:04 am

It was just after midnight when Hannah burst through the front door of the Washington house. Josh was still awake and in the kitchen when she came in. He at first didn't notice how disgruntled she was and waved his phone, "Hey, Hannah, wanna be a part of this vine I'm making?"

Hannah only side glared at him as she walked through the kitchen toward the stairs.

"Where's your glasses?" Josh called out to her, leaning over the island to watch her retreat until he couldn't see her anymore. She didn't answer him. "Damn it, now I have to do my vine with fake ones."

He put on a pair of glasses that had no lenses in them and recorded himself saying, "How people who wear glasses look." Then he took the glasses off and played with the settings on his camera until his eyes looked three times smaller than they should be, "How people who wear glasses look without their glasses." He spliced the videos together and then sent it to Hannah.

But a few minutes later, he got a text back from her phone that said, "FYI, this is Mike. Hannah left her phone here. And her glasses." Before Josh could respond to it, Mike sent a second text that said, "Funny vine, btw."

Josh had no idea why Hannah would have been over Mike's house (again)...and forgotten her glasses. Her phone, yes. But her glasses? Why did she take her glasses off? So Josh texted back "fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou" and copy and pasted it about ten times before sending it. By the way Hannah came barreling through, she must have had some sort of argument with Mike and, whatever it was, Josh blamed him.

He figured he would check on her before he went to bed. He didn't want to get his head chewed off by following her right away. So he sent Chris and Sam his vine.

Sam [12:57 am]: don't text me.

After his most recent run in with Sam, her cold response wasn't a surprise. Hell, he was surprised she even wrote back at all. While his rebound rate aired on the side of miraculous, Sam was known to hold a bit of a grudge at times.

But because Josh is a smart ass, he sent her a kissy-face back.

He didn't even get a response from Chris.

Josh played around on his phone a bit longer, made a ham and cheese sandwich, considered trying to get in touch with Chris again when he heard Balto barking and howling from upstairs.

"Stupid dog," Josh said in his best Eustace Bagge voice. He waited a few moments thinking he just saw something outside and Hannah would shut him up soon, but the barking persisted and even seemed to get desperate.

Josh lowered his phone as a sinking feeling punched him in the gut. Then he heard his mother scream, and he stood up so fast he knocked the stool over and it collided with the stool next to it. He bounded up the stairs two, sometimes three, at a time.

His mother was crying in the doorway of Hannah's room, and his dad was yelling at the dog from inside. Josh turned the corner and saw Balto growling and snarling at them as though the family did something wrong. Bob was trying to get past the dog, but Josh rushed in and jumped on the bed, hovering over Hannah. Her bottle of sleeping pills was knocked over and completely empty on her bedside table.

He felt like he dived underwater and everything sounded muted. He shook her and tapped her cheeks, but all he got was a small flutter of eyelids from her. Between the dog barking, his dad yelling, and his mom crying, he felt like he was living in a different body. He pulled Hannah straight up to a sitting position, but she only flopped against him like a ragdoll.

"No, no, no nononono don't do this, Hannah!" Josh yelled into her ear. With any luck, she was just deep into the sleep she desperately needed and the pills just accidentally tipped over and spilled on the floor.

Even though Josh was completely panicking inside (and, honestly, outside as well), his voice was eerily calm as he told parents to call 9-1-1.

Josh and Sam - Legacy Hospital - 2:20 am

Sam found herself in a full-on sprint down the long, white hospital corridors with her heart all the way up in her throat. All she'd gotten was a vague, unexplained text from Josh.

Josh [1:32 am]: Hannah. hospital. NOW.

He didn't say anything more, and he wasn't picking up his phone to offer her any other details. All the Washington phones just kept ringing and ringing, but no one was picking up. She practically bit Melinda's head off when she finally answered to at least tell her where they were in the building, but by then Sam was already there. Sam had run out her door in what she was wearing, which was less than flattering: brightly colored yoga pants from work, red rainboots that were by her front door and an oversized, slightly tattered beige sweater with a grease stain in the shape of a spade on the front.

She rounded the sharp corner, narrowly avoiding a nurse who scolded her from behind as she hurried passed. Sam was already too far away to care, especially as she saw Josh sitting with his head in his hands in the practically empty waiting room. It was like seeing the finish line at the end of a race.

"Josh!" she called out sharply, and when he raised his head she knew right away that he'd been crying. She'd seen him look this upset and worn so many times before, she would recognize it anywhere.

"Sam," he replied, her name escaping his lips like a sigh of relief, and like magnets, they made their way towards each other. As Sam embraced him, everything else melted away and she instantly realized how much she'd missed him, everything about him. His smell, his arms wrapped around her, his voice. She held him close to her as he cried into her shoulder, and she didn't care about anything they'd left unresolved or any of the hurt they'd caused one another. At this moment, none of that mattered. She didn't pull away from him as she asked him slowly, "what happened?!"

Josh was practically hysterical, running his fingers through his hair and clenching as he recalled what had happened.

"I don't know, there were pills and she wouldn't wake up and I kept shaking her but she was barely responsive and-" he stopped, pushing away from her to look her in the eyes. "Sam, I think she might have tried to kill herself," he said lowly. Sam pursed her lips together and shook her head.

"No, Josh. It had to have been an accident. Hannah is too strong. She survived a year of hell on that mountain, she never would have come back to us just to leave us again," she reassured, gripping him back to her closely. Josh fell into her, and Sam wasn't sure who needed it more - her or him.

"I'm sorry Sam, I'm so so sorry," he began to say, muffled in the cotton of her sweater, but Sam was already shaking her head and her own tears away.

"Stop, now is not the time for that," she choked, trying her best to stay strong for him.

"I just got her back-"

"Where is she?" A new but familiar voice rang out over them. Both Sam and Josh turned to see Mike hurrying towards them, panic in his face as he approached. Josh held Sam away at arm's length, his cheeks tear-streaked but his eyebrows lowering and bending in angry confusion.

"You called him?" he uttered at Sam, whose eyes grew at his obvious frustration with her.

"H-he cares about her, Josh, I thought he should know-" Josh didn't let Sam finish before he was charging Mike, his fists clenched as he neared him.

"What did you do?" he accused, and Sam was already there, gripping onto Josh's arm and pulling him back. Mike swallowed and stared back at Josh and Sam in confusion and slight fear.

"Josh, man, I just wanted to make sure she's okay-" Mike attempted, his hands raised up in a cautious manner. Josh was practically seething, his sadness replaced with fury.

"You don't need to be here! She came from your house before she did this! What happened? What did you do?"

"Josh-" Sam tried to intervene, another tug at his sleeve. Josh shrugged her off, and Sam took a step back to let them sort it out but not unaware that she may need to jump in again at a moment's notice.

"I-I don't even know what happened! Wa-was it a car wreck or something? Is she okay?" He focused the last question at Sam, who was more likely to give him the answer.

Josh shoved Mike back in the shoulder, "She took a handful of sleeping pills after she got home from seeing you. What did you say to her!?"

Mike's eyes doubled in size, his mouth dropping to answer but having no idea what to even begin to say to them, "I-I… no. We were just talking and I mean, I know she was tired and she seemed out of it but she wouldn't let me do anything about it."

Josh was nearly seeing red, feeling that anger that he allowed to control him a few months ago taking over, "So once again, you didn't go after her? Fuck you!"

Mike didn't even bother backing away from the punch Josh threw on his cheek. He deserved it. He allowed Josh's sisters to run out into the woods by themselves, he wrongfully blamed and punched Josh when he thought he killed Jessica, and now he allowed Hannah to leave when he knew he should have stopped her, despite how much it would have made her hate him.

But at least she would be safe.

"Josh!" Sam yelled, her hands clenched at her sides. She knew what Josh was capable of - she still remembered all too well, and she wouldn't be helping the situation at all if she tried to stop him. So she went to Mike who was only looking at the pale white floor of the hospital waiting room. The skin where Josh punched him was turning red, but he hardly seemed to notice, "Are you okay, Mike?"

"Oh, sure, take Mike's side! Good ol' Michael Munroe, always the hero, never the-."

"Josh, stop!" Sam yelled, her stomach feeling sick with fear. The last time she heard him begin talking maniacal was when she discovered he had Chris and Ashley tied up to chairs with a chainsaw hanging above them. The very moment she knew that he was not right in the head and that she should stay far, far away from him.

"If you three can't get yourselves under control, I'm calling the cops," the receptionist threatened from behind the front desk, her eyes narrowed in anger to show this was not the first rodeo she would gladly break up.

"Sorry…" Sam mouthed to her, quickly glancing around at the few others in the waiting room who were trying not to look interested. She grabbed Mike's arm, then took a brave step toward Josh, "You need to chill. For Hannah. I can tell you now, Josh, she did not mean to do this, but imagine how it'll make her feel if she finds out you went psycho because of all this?"

The red from Josh's vision slowly began to disappear. The voices in his head never made themselves known, and for that, he was grateful. The new medicine they had him on really was working. But still - he lost himself for a moment. He eyed Mike's red cheek, then flashed his gaze over to Sam. She was worried. And afraid; angry; disgusted, disappointed - all because of him.

"Where are your parents?" She asked him calmly.

He cocked his head toward the double doors, "Outside her room…they told me I had to wait in here to pull myself together…" He flinched when he admitted it.

She pursed her lips and nodded. She held out her hand to him, "Are you put together?"

Josh breathed in deeply through his nose, not releasing his lungs until he was sure he could nod in certainty.

"Good," she said with finality, taking ahold of his hand while still holding onto Mike's arm, "Now let's just all chill. Right here. Until we're told we can see Hannah." Sam sat down in one of the chairs, pulling both guys down to sit on either side of her. Josh couldn't help but notice how she never took her hand away from his. He rubbed his thumb across the smooth skin by her wrist, and they both felt an odd calmness about it.

Mike was not in their little world though. All he could see, continuously flashing through his mind, was Hannah turning her back on him to go home, and him letting her. It brought him back to the night of the prank, how she turned and ran from him when he tried calling out to her it was just a pr-

Why was he always doing something to make her run away from him? He glanced over at Josh and Sam, taking note on how tightly their hands were holding onto one another. Josh didn't know how lucky he was - despite everything that happened, Sam was still there with him. She said she didn't forgive him, said she hated him even, and maybe it was all true - a little - but she was already in the process of forgiving him, even if she didn't realize it yet. Mike could see it in her face.

He saw that look on Hannah's face for a brief second earlier that night. It excited him - so much so that he kissed her. For the second time. And just like their first kiss, it was hard and rushed and tainted - not at all what she deserved.

Maybe it would have been best to not have texted her at all tonight. Then she would have stayed at home and not concerned herself with him.

The double doors to the hospital room corridor opened and out came Bob and Melinda, looking just as rough as they had the whole year Hannah was missing. The three friends stood, but it was Josh who broke free of Sam's grip to approach his parent's first.

"Well? What's going on? Is she okay?" he began to ask too many questions at once. Bob sighed and placed his hand on Josh's shoulder and it seemed to calm him, but still he looked from parent to parent for at least one answer.

"She's going to be okay," Melinda finally spoke, wiping her nose with a crumpled, used tissue. Mike and Sam leaned in to hear what the update was, intently. Josh looked instantly relieved, beginning to push past them towards the door when Bob stopped him.

"Okay, great, can I go in ther-"

"No one can see her," Bob said, his voice just as deep and gravelly as Josh's. Sam's eyes snapped up to Josh's face, trying to decipher if she was going to need to help reel him in again. All there was in his eyes was hurt and confusion.

"But… you said she was alright…" he mumbled. Sam looked down at their hands when she felt Josh's fingers interlace with hers once more. He was getting upset. He needed to remind himself that she was there. Sam just swallowed hard and watched on, meanwhile Mike was beginning to pace a bit, still wavering in and out of listening to the news but also unable to keep himself still, his stomach in knots. At least she was okay, right? At least she was alive? What did 'okay' mean?

"They are watching her tonight, but then she is going to an inpatient program in the morning. She didn't want to see anyone and…" Melinda looked at Bob, who nodded her on. "And the doctors don't think she should be around anyone, right now."

It was all too much for her too soon, Mike thought to himself when he finally stopped pacing. He shouldn't have pushed so hard to fit back into her life when she was busy trying to fit herself back into her life. And even though she came to him a few hours ago, he still continued to push.

Yet the only thing he could say to her parents was, "D'you mind if I swing by your house and pick up Wolfie? I'll watch him while Hannah's here."

"His name's Balto," Sam corrected under her breath.

Bob and Melinda only glanced at each other briefly before giving him a nod of approval. Josh wanted to say something - about how all Mike could think about was a stupid dog while Hannah was laying in a hospital bed - but he refrained. That dog is maybe what saved Hannah's life.

Balto growled at him the whole time he was holding Hannah and calling 911, but still knew to stay down and not attack. Still...Josh couldn't deny that, besides Hannah, Mike was his favorite and Hannah would at least be happy knowing that her precious pet was taken care of.

Sam swallowed hard when she saw everyone was getting ready to leave. She barely glanced to Josh, wondering if she should offer to drive him home or if he should stay with his parents. But thankfully, it was decided for her when Bob wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him close, followed by Melinda pulling him down close to her so she could kiss his cheek.

She smiled softly at their family moment - Josh needed to spend some time with his parents, they needed one of their children around them right now. Sam turned to Mike, but saw that he was already heading toward the exit. She jogged to catch up to him. He held the door open for her when he heard her, both of them going out into the warm night air.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

Mike brought a hand up to his cheek where Josh punched him, "Yeah, it's no big deal - Hannah punched me harder the night I found her."

Sam smirked at his off-beat insult to Josh, "Glad I won't be seeing you with another black eye for weeks then...but I wasn't talking about that."

"Oh...uh - well, if I'm being honest…" Mike trailed off, the two of them standing in front of their cars that were parked next to each other. He ran a hand back through his hair and sighed heavily, "Shit, I dunno, I just want to make everything up to her, but it just feels like I'm making everything worse."

Sam leaned against the hood of her car and crossed her arms, "None of this is easy for her...I think we all just assumed that things would go back to normal, but…"

"It's never gonna get back to normal, Sam - that family in there," he stopped short, his finger pointing to the hospital where Josh and his parents still lingered in the waiting room, "that family is going to be fucked up forever."

"Don't say that…" she said lowly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear roughly, "Hannah and Josh will get better then-"

"But Beth is still dead," Mike interrupted, his voice raising just slightly.

Sam's eyes narrowed when she met his, "Yeah, well, we can't do anything about that now, so we just have to do our best to be there for Josh and Hannah."

"We're doing a piss poor job of it," his tone was harsh with reality but soft with regret, "They both hate me, and you're just pushing Josh further and further away."

"Oh, fuck off, Mike..." she said, and though the words were cruel, they were lacking venom.

He groaned and roughly wiped his injured hand down his face before wrapping his arms around her shoulders, blocking her face from the outside world as she pressed herself to his chest, her arms still crossed between them, "I just want to make sure you talk to someone before-."

"I'm fine," she stated simply, her words muffled in the space between them.

"Yeah, but you went through a lot too and-"

"I said I'm fine," she added firmly, and she swore it was the fifth time to had to repeat the same line to someone.

"Okay," Mike said, knowing when he should back off with her. He released her and walked around his car to the driver's side. Before he could open the door, Sam called to him again.

"Hannah - she does want to trust you again but… she keeps remembering where her trust got her before and it's not so easy for her to let her defenses down again, you know?" Their eyes met again and Mike couldn't tell if she truly knew this about Hannah or if she was only using Hannah's name to help describe what she herself was going through.

Maybe both.

Probably both.

Mike Munroe - Mike's Apartment - 5:46 am

Once Mike grabbed Wolfie from the Washington's house and bought dog food from the 24-hour gas station, he pulled up to his home just wanting to get some sleep; it was already almost six in the morning. The sun would be coming up in about an hour.

"C'mon, boy," Mike called when he opened the car door for Wolfie to jump out, the dog clearly just as wore out as he was. But Mike stopped in his tracks when Wolfie began growling, and when he looked toward his door, he saw a figure standing there and almost had a heart attack until he realized it was Emily.

"Holy cockroach shitting demons, what the hell are you doing standing in the shadows, Em?" Mike placed a hand on Wolfie's head to let him know that he didn't have to be defensive.

Emily pushed herself away from his door and walked toward him, anger in her steps, "I've been trying to reach you for days, but you never returned my texts or calls."

"So, what? You just decided to wait outside my place like a creeper?" His tone was hard, and he just really wanted to get inside and go to sleep, "We're not together anymore, you can't just be doin' that."

She crossed her arms defensively, "Well, uh, excuuuse me, but maybe I was just worried about you? Where were you all night?" Emily looked down at the dog who was still lowly growling at her; she shifted uncomfortably, not wishing to make eye contact with the wild thing, "And why is that beast here?"

Mike was not in the mood for any of this. He felt his anger rising faster than he could comprehend it, "Again, we're not together anymore, so it's not like it's any of your business, but Hannah is in the hospital right now. That's where I was, and I'm looking after Wolfie until she gets better."

Emily clicked her tongue, "So what you're saying is that you have the time to be there for her, but not for me?"

"This isn't about you!" Mike yelled, which only made Wolfie bark and he had to recoil himself so he didn't get the dog so worked up, "Hannah is still suffering from what we did to her last year, and for you to try to manipulate any part of this situation to make you become the victim is just-."

"But Matt and Jessica are dead, Mike!" She said, as if that explained everything.

He got up close to her, his dark eyes searching hers, "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I don't think about that Every. Single. God. D-."

"Well, maybe I should have died then, huh? At least then you'll think of me and-."

Mike grabbed her upper arms and shook her roughly, his eyes now flashing with ferocity, "What the fuck is wrong with you?! After everything we've seen and done, why would you even say that?!"

"Because I want you back, Michael!" She yelled, finally admitting what she had been dancing around for close to two years.

"Em…" the fury in his eyes disappeared, replaced now with remorse, "We've been over this before. We never really worked, but then after the prank we pulled on Hannah-."

"But she's alive," Emily reminded him, as though that was supposed to make everything okay.

"By some fuckin' fantastical miracle! But Beth's not," he gripped onto her shoulders tighter, trying everything he could to make her understand, "And she was the one that tied us together...she was my best friend and...for awhile...she was yours too. Until you let jealousy make you want to tell her secret to everyone just so you could make a fool out of Hannah."

"You were part of that too, Mike! Don't try to act like-."

"I regret everything, Em. Everything," he let go of her and backed away, "I regret telling you about Beth, letting you blackmail me into pulling that prank on Hannah, not running after them, and - and kissing Hannah before I broke up with you…"

Emily's mouth fell open at his confession. She pushed him roughly on his chest, causing him to stumble back a step and for Wolfie to begin growling again, "Don't tell me you actually like her…!"

Mike kneeled down next to Wolfie, petting between his ears to keep him calm, "Emily, I always cared about you, even when you were driving me batshit crazy. And getting with Jess was just a distraction, but I cared about her, too. But those few moments I had with Hannah...we-."

"Oh just stop, I'm gonna be sick," Emily said with over-exaggeration, her hand covering her mouth as she turned away from him.

"What I'm trying to say is…" he stood back up and walked around her so he was facing her again, "there's nothing here for you anymore. You let all this messed up shit eat away at you; you still can't admit that it's your fault that Beth is dead and Hannah was trapped on that mountain for a year."

Emily rolled her eyes but refused to make eye contact with him, "Oh, please, she could have easily found her way off that mountain anytime she wanted to."

Mike clenched his jaw to keep from snapping at her again; he was sure that if he let the words he truly wanted to say to her come out of his mouth, that Wolfie would magically understand and attack her. So instead, he took a deep breath and said, "Remember when you told me about your parents?"

Her eyes met his chest for a brief moment, but she still wouldn't look him in his eyes. Mike hated bringing this up to her, but she must have told him for a reason. When they were about seven months into dating, she revealed to him that when she was about six, her father fell into a lot of money and they became rich literally overnight. But her dad made sure to set up safeguards for himself - his wife wouldn't be allowed to get a single cent out of him if she divorced him. Then he started having affairs with other women. He would lavish them with gifts while his wife looked on in dark corners. And Emily had to grow up with jealousy and deceit as the main theme in her home.

"Don't become your parents… Em, you're smart - so smart, and resilient, and I know you just act the way you do to cover up all your insecurities, and you just want to be with someone that will make you their main focus all the time, and - and you deserve that," he paused when he saw her eyes become red and begin watering, but still not allowing herself to cry, "But I can't give that to you and...well, you know what I'm gonna say next, right?"

She finally met his gaze and a few tears escaped her eyes but she wiped them away before they could slide down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and nodded. She needed to learn to love herself. It was too hard to say aloud and that was proof enough that it was something she direly needed to work on.

And they both knew that Mike was right. She had to move on. She never could figure out why she just couldn't be the sweet girl she knew she could be with Mike, but they had already established themselves in their prior personalities in their relationship. As much as she loved him, he was too aloof for her. He was a free spirit while she was very grounded and, in this case, being opposites was never going to work out for them.

She opened her mouth, her breath wavering as she slowly said, "I'm sorry for everything."

"Me, too," he said softly and stepped forward to hug her, but she held up her hand and shook her head. She felt too brave for having just said that to him, and didn't want it all to come crumbling down by feeling his arms around her again. "Do you need me to drive you home?"

She shook her head again and took a few steps back, "No, I'll be okay." She couldn't trust herself in the car with him either. If it wasn't now, it was going to be never. "Goodbye, Mike."

"Bye, Em…" he said back, feeling some part of his heartbreaking at knowing this was probably going to be the last time he'd ever see her. But she smiled at him before turning away and walking across the deserted street to her car. Mike turned away before he could watch her drive away, opening his front door for him and Wolfie.

And he was just relieved when he finally got to close the door behind him.

To Be Continued...