Chapter Text
Hannah had always been quiet, a little bit strange, Mom being, well, Mom, hadn't helped, hadn't cared. She never saw Hannah as anything other than a nuisance.
For Hannah, freakouts happened and meltdowns weren't an uncommon occurrence, but this was new. Even before we turned on the news, ever since the storm started, Hannah had been freaking out, muttering something, I think about webs and being poked. When Donna Daggit announced that a meteor had crashed into the starlight theatre Hannah ran out of the caravan, into the pouring rain. I don't think Mom even heard, too busy fawning over Dan Reynolds and his stupid mustache and his “that's amazing Donna!”s to pay attention to what Donna was saying or what was happening to her daughter, if she even cared.
I ran after her but I didn't have to run far. I found her sitting about a foot away from the door to the van, back pressed up against the tin, shaking, knees tucked close up to her chest and head in her hands.
“Hey Banana, what's wrong?” I asked, my tone soft and steady as I joined her underneath the awning. Both of us were already soaking as Hannah lifted her head to look at me. She was clearly crying, I could tell from the redness of her eyes, but you couldn't differentiate the tears from the rain dripping down her cheeks. She hummed a tune I didn’t recognise and could barely hear above the din of the rain pelting onto the awning and roof, and just began to cry harder.
I reached out my hand to wrap it around her shoulders, but as soon as my fingers made contact she flinched away from me. This wasn't a normal “don’t touch me” this was more, this was fear. Hannah was scared of me, or at least some part of her was.
Something was wrong, very wrong. Fear filled my lungs like poison, choking me until there was no breath left. What could have happened to get Hannah like this, surely a meteor strike that didn't hurt anyone couldn't have elicited such a strong reaction. There had to be more I didn't know.
“How can I help?” I had to try to help, even if it was as futile and as pointless as the sense of dread that had begun to envelop me was telling me it was.
“Stay,” Her voice was barely a whisper, hard to hear above the rain, and the thunder that had joined it, a plea for me not to leave, and how could I say no. The only problem would be school the next day, if Hannah or I missed another day of school they would try and contact our mom, and that wouldn't go well. They would find out our mum is a no good alcoholic bitch who isn't suited to be taking care of me, let alone Hannah. They would take Hannah away, separate us. I couldn't let that happen, not yet, not when Ethan and I were so close to making enough to escape. We were so close to California, to a fresh start.
“I’ll stay tonight, I promise,” And that night I did. We dried off and changed into comfortable and dry pajamas and I slept in her bunk in the van, holding her close after asking if it was okay. Trying my best to protect her from whatever was scaring her. If I believed in any of that religious nonsense I’d probably have prayed. I should have prayed, maybe then none of this would have happened. I doubt it, but man I wish I had tried.