‹ Prequel: We'll Fly Home, You And I
Status: sleeping
Did We All Fall Down, Well After All
Chapter 5
::Hannah's POV::
I blinked. He has to. . . but why?! I looked over at my dad. Both Quinn and Ray were comforting him as he continued to cry on the hospital floor.
"I-. . ." I couldn't think of anything to say. "Why you?"
"Because I care about you. Gerard won't do it, and if any of the guys do it we'll never be friends again." I began to feel frantic. The beeping noise from the heart monitor became faster and faster, as did my breathing. Sweat filled every pore of my skin and I could feel my eyes shift in and out of focus.
"Hannah?" I tried to look at Mikey. The beeping slowed down, but sounded slightly irregular. Or maybe it was just my ears playing tricks on me. I reached my arms out needily.
"Dad, please," I almost begged. I needed him now more than ever. Ray nudged him. He looked up at him then over to me. Quinn helped him up and he came over and wrapped his arms tightly around me. He'll never let go of me. "I'm sorry." Soon, I found that I was crying along with him. I didn't want Mikey to have to do this. "There has to be some other way!"
"There isn't," Frank said.
"Well then maybe I don't want to remember!"
"You have to."
"Well I don't want to."
"But I Do!" I looked at my Dad. "But I don't want you to have to go through with this." I didn't either.
"Uncle Mikey, you don't have to do this!" Everyone was silent. Dad pulled me tighter to his body and rubbed the top of my head. My eyes connected with Mikey's causing his to shoot to the floor. He did have to do this.
"I'm sorry Hannah."
::Later::
They got me out of the hospital. The doctors told us to come back the next day, but we weren't. They couldn't do anything about it, and none of us wanted to go back there. Quinn was flying back to San Diego. We had driven a couple of miles to Franklin. I had been clinging to my Dad the entire day. We never let go of eachother. Uncle Mikey stayed in the back of the bus.
"Why did this have to happen?" I asked, rubbing my baby bump. Dad touched it as well.
"Do you want to call him?" The thought never occurred to me that Bert didn't know about this. I pondered over it for a moment.
"No. He doesn't need to know right now." And the subject was dropped. I rolled over in my spot on the couch so that I was now facing him. He put his hand at the bottom of my neck and kissed the top of my head.
"We can get through this," he whispered. "Everything is going to go back to normal."
"I don't think there ever was a normal." I buried my head into his strong chest.
"There will be. I promise."
::Even Later::
"Alright. Here are your room keys. I hope you have a pleasant stay," the lady behind the counter played a smile. None of us said anything. We took our keys off of the counter and slowly glided over to the elevators. I turned to the guys. All at once, they came over and hugged me, except for Mikey.
"Take care," Dad said. I nodded my head violently up and down. He went over to Mikey. His head was hung low and already he had an air of guilt around him. "Mikey." The younger brother looked up. He put his hand on his shoulder. "I trust you."
"I know," he whispered. That was the last I saw of my Dad that night. I looked over at Mikey as we rode alone up the elevator to the tenth floor. We got off and silently walked to our room. Number 1026. Hesitantly, Mikey slipped the card into the slot. The green light shone up at us and he opened the door. I tip toed in, because if I made a sound, all of this would be shattered. My bag slid on to the floor along with Mikey's. He pulled out a clear glass bottle and went into the bathroom. I knew what he was doing. The bottle was vodka. He didn't want to have to do this fully aware of everything. I didn't blame him. I would have had some myself if it wasn't for the baby.
"Know that I don't mean any of this and I'm only doing it because I have to. Will you treat me differently after?"
"A little in the beginning, but I will let go of it." Mikey looked over at the clock. 10:43. He walked over to me and took my hand.
"I really wish that I didn't have to do this. I wish I could make it easier for you." My eyes went to my shoes.
"If I tell you to stop, don't. Don't be yourself Uncle Mikey." He nodded. I knew this was going to be difficult for him, but Mikey was strong. As he his hand slid up my arm causing goosebumps, I felt a wave of adrenaline rush over me. He came closer and soon his lips were connected to my jaw. He placed his hand on the small of my back. I could smell the practically pure alcohol covering his lips. He had drunk a lot. I could tell. It worried me for a moment, but then I remembered it was Mikey. Finally his lips met mine, and fear kicked in. I began to squirm away but he pulled me back. No, I didn't want to do this anymore. I could live without knowing my past. I pulled back, but he slammed himself against my body and stuck his tongue down my throat. He had had a lot of to drink. His cold, clammy hands quickly slid up my shirt and unclasped my bra.
"Stop," I pleaded.
"No one can hear you," he mocked. Mikey threw it to the floor. He ripped my shirt from my body, leaving me exposed to his eyes. He pushed me down onto the bed and started to bight at my nipple. His hand pressed at my belly button and slowly slid down and reached underneath the fabric of my jeans and underwear. His index and middle finger began to massage the top of my clit, while his other hand grabbed mine and stuck it into his own pants. I whimpered as he made me pump his hard length with my hand. Tears slowly flowed from my eyes. This wasn't like Mikey. I know I told him not to be himself, but. . .
He violently stuck his fingers into me. I screamed. He silenced me with his mouth. Why hadn't my memory come back yet? I didn't want to do this! Mikey is drunk. I don't know how far he'll go. "You little whore. You want to fuck me don't you?" No, it was the complete opposite! I had stopped pumping him awhile ago, which made him angry. "Finish it off."
"Please! Mikey liste-" He slapped me hard against the face. He grabbed the cast on my left wrist. I felt blood slide down onto my cheek.
"You're going to take the rest of your clothes off, then mine, and you're going to fuck me until you won't be able to walk in the morning." I closed my eyes and sobbed even more. He bashed my head against the headboard. "NOW!" I fumbled with the button on my pants and pulled them off along with my underwear. Then, I looked up at Mikey. No, it wasn't Mikey. It was someone else entirely. Before he could hit me again, I reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, then his belt buckle and the rest of his clothes. Without any warning, he slid into me, and flipped us over so that I was on top. "Ride." I collapsed onto his chest in a fit of tears. I couldn't do it. He dug his nails into my sides. I sat up and my walls clenched around him. He moaned my name. I hated it. Slowly, I rocked back and forth on top of him. His hands held my waist for balance. My eyes began to burn from the tears. He moaned my name once again. I wondered what Alicia would think of this. Wait. . . . Alicia, his wife. He's married. And Jamia is- I Know Who They Are!!
"Mi-" I did not get to finish. He spilled himself into me. I fell backwards and onto the floor. I shivered from the lack of body heat and felt pain shoot through my entire body. Nothing had ever felt this bad in my entire life. "Mikey I remember now!" I whispered to myself. I knew he couldn't hear it. Soon, more memories were coming to me. My life in Chicago. Images and noises of me naked with thousands of different men. Mason raping me on the kitchen floor and throwing broken beer bottles at me. Running off to Charlie. Meeting the guys. Cutting. Burning my hand. My grandmother. Being hit by the car. Running away to Bert. Everything rushed into my head at once, causing me to collapse onto the floor.
"Come ba-" I reached for the TV remote and flung it at his head hitting him square in the forehead. He fell back onto the bed and didn't get up. I could not believe I had forgotten how terrible my life had been. How did I manage to even still want to be alive? I sobbed on the floor for about five minutes before deciding that I needed my Dad. I crawled over to the phone and dialed his number. As it rang I looked at Mikey, making me cry harder, if that was even possible by now. He picked up the phone by the first ring.
"Hello?"
I blinked. He has to. . . but why?! I looked over at my dad. Both Quinn and Ray were comforting him as he continued to cry on the hospital floor.
"I-. . ." I couldn't think of anything to say. "Why you?"
"Because I care about you. Gerard won't do it, and if any of the guys do it we'll never be friends again." I began to feel frantic. The beeping noise from the heart monitor became faster and faster, as did my breathing. Sweat filled every pore of my skin and I could feel my eyes shift in and out of focus.
"Hannah?" I tried to look at Mikey. The beeping slowed down, but sounded slightly irregular. Or maybe it was just my ears playing tricks on me. I reached my arms out needily.
"Dad, please," I almost begged. I needed him now more than ever. Ray nudged him. He looked up at him then over to me. Quinn helped him up and he came over and wrapped his arms tightly around me. He'll never let go of me. "I'm sorry." Soon, I found that I was crying along with him. I didn't want Mikey to have to do this. "There has to be some other way!"
"There isn't," Frank said.
"Well then maybe I don't want to remember!"
"You have to."
"Well I don't want to."
"But I Do!" I looked at my Dad. "But I don't want you to have to go through with this." I didn't either.
"Uncle Mikey, you don't have to do this!" Everyone was silent. Dad pulled me tighter to his body and rubbed the top of my head. My eyes connected with Mikey's causing his to shoot to the floor. He did have to do this.
"I'm sorry Hannah."
::Later::
They got me out of the hospital. The doctors told us to come back the next day, but we weren't. They couldn't do anything about it, and none of us wanted to go back there. Quinn was flying back to San Diego. We had driven a couple of miles to Franklin. I had been clinging to my Dad the entire day. We never let go of eachother. Uncle Mikey stayed in the back of the bus.
"Why did this have to happen?" I asked, rubbing my baby bump. Dad touched it as well.
"Do you want to call him?" The thought never occurred to me that Bert didn't know about this. I pondered over it for a moment.
"No. He doesn't need to know right now." And the subject was dropped. I rolled over in my spot on the couch so that I was now facing him. He put his hand at the bottom of my neck and kissed the top of my head.
"We can get through this," he whispered. "Everything is going to go back to normal."
"I don't think there ever was a normal." I buried my head into his strong chest.
"There will be. I promise."
::Even Later::
"Alright. Here are your room keys. I hope you have a pleasant stay," the lady behind the counter played a smile. None of us said anything. We took our keys off of the counter and slowly glided over to the elevators. I turned to the guys. All at once, they came over and hugged me, except for Mikey.
"Take care," Dad said. I nodded my head violently up and down. He went over to Mikey. His head was hung low and already he had an air of guilt around him. "Mikey." The younger brother looked up. He put his hand on his shoulder. "I trust you."
"I know," he whispered. That was the last I saw of my Dad that night. I looked over at Mikey as we rode alone up the elevator to the tenth floor. We got off and silently walked to our room. Number 1026. Hesitantly, Mikey slipped the card into the slot. The green light shone up at us and he opened the door. I tip toed in, because if I made a sound, all of this would be shattered. My bag slid on to the floor along with Mikey's. He pulled out a clear glass bottle and went into the bathroom. I knew what he was doing. The bottle was vodka. He didn't want to have to do this fully aware of everything. I didn't blame him. I would have had some myself if it wasn't for the baby.
"Know that I don't mean any of this and I'm only doing it because I have to. Will you treat me differently after?"
"A little in the beginning, but I will let go of it." Mikey looked over at the clock. 10:43. He walked over to me and took my hand.
"I really wish that I didn't have to do this. I wish I could make it easier for you." My eyes went to my shoes.
"If I tell you to stop, don't. Don't be yourself Uncle Mikey." He nodded. I knew this was going to be difficult for him, but Mikey was strong. As he his hand slid up my arm causing goosebumps, I felt a wave of adrenaline rush over me. He came closer and soon his lips were connected to my jaw. He placed his hand on the small of my back. I could smell the practically pure alcohol covering his lips. He had drunk a lot. I could tell. It worried me for a moment, but then I remembered it was Mikey. Finally his lips met mine, and fear kicked in. I began to squirm away but he pulled me back. No, I didn't want to do this anymore. I could live without knowing my past. I pulled back, but he slammed himself against my body and stuck his tongue down my throat. He had had a lot of to drink. His cold, clammy hands quickly slid up my shirt and unclasped my bra.
"Stop," I pleaded.
"No one can hear you," he mocked. Mikey threw it to the floor. He ripped my shirt from my body, leaving me exposed to his eyes. He pushed me down onto the bed and started to bight at my nipple. His hand pressed at my belly button and slowly slid down and reached underneath the fabric of my jeans and underwear. His index and middle finger began to massage the top of my clit, while his other hand grabbed mine and stuck it into his own pants. I whimpered as he made me pump his hard length with my hand. Tears slowly flowed from my eyes. This wasn't like Mikey. I know I told him not to be himself, but. . .
He violently stuck his fingers into me. I screamed. He silenced me with his mouth. Why hadn't my memory come back yet? I didn't want to do this! Mikey is drunk. I don't know how far he'll go. "You little whore. You want to fuck me don't you?" No, it was the complete opposite! I had stopped pumping him awhile ago, which made him angry. "Finish it off."
"Please! Mikey liste-" He slapped me hard against the face. He grabbed the cast on my left wrist. I felt blood slide down onto my cheek.
"You're going to take the rest of your clothes off, then mine, and you're going to fuck me until you won't be able to walk in the morning." I closed my eyes and sobbed even more. He bashed my head against the headboard. "NOW!" I fumbled with the button on my pants and pulled them off along with my underwear. Then, I looked up at Mikey. No, it wasn't Mikey. It was someone else entirely. Before he could hit me again, I reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, then his belt buckle and the rest of his clothes. Without any warning, he slid into me, and flipped us over so that I was on top. "Ride." I collapsed onto his chest in a fit of tears. I couldn't do it. He dug his nails into my sides. I sat up and my walls clenched around him. He moaned my name. I hated it. Slowly, I rocked back and forth on top of him. His hands held my waist for balance. My eyes began to burn from the tears. He moaned my name once again. I wondered what Alicia would think of this. Wait. . . . Alicia, his wife. He's married. And Jamia is- I Know Who They Are!!
"Mi-" I did not get to finish. He spilled himself into me. I fell backwards and onto the floor. I shivered from the lack of body heat and felt pain shoot through my entire body. Nothing had ever felt this bad in my entire life. "Mikey I remember now!" I whispered to myself. I knew he couldn't hear it. Soon, more memories were coming to me. My life in Chicago. Images and noises of me naked with thousands of different men. Mason raping me on the kitchen floor and throwing broken beer bottles at me. Running off to Charlie. Meeting the guys. Cutting. Burning my hand. My grandmother. Being hit by the car. Running away to Bert. Everything rushed into my head at once, causing me to collapse onto the floor.
"Come ba-" I reached for the TV remote and flung it at his head hitting him square in the forehead. He fell back onto the bed and didn't get up. I could not believe I had forgotten how terrible my life had been. How did I manage to even still want to be alive? I sobbed on the floor for about five minutes before deciding that I needed my Dad. I crawled over to the phone and dialed his number. As it rang I looked at Mikey, making me cry harder, if that was even possible by now. He picked up the phone by the first ring.
"Hello?"