Summary: Story takes off after 3.10, 'Need to Know', where Hannah tells Amy she's not planning on getting tested for Huntington's disease. Now, it's more than six years later and the might-be gene has so far dominated her life. Time for a test.

Rating:

Hannah's Here

"You're going to be late!" Erin's voice boomed through the apartment.

A deep sigh escaped from Hannah's mouth and her hazel eyes rolled in despair.

"I already told you I'm not going!" she yelled back.

"I can't hear you ..." Erin sang.

"I already told you that I am not ... going," she repeated to herself, not even taking herself seriously anymore. Really, she couldn't care less about this stupid reunion. Honestly, driving all that way back to Everwood, a place she hadn't been to for almost five years? Not worth the trouble at all. Besides, weren't these high school reunions supposed to be a horrible cliche and not to mention almost always a huge disappointment? This was the right decision, she muttered to herself, for what seemed to be the sixtieth time that day.

An irritating little voice in the back of her mind drew her unwilling attention. What is the real reason, Hannah? Couldn't it have anything to do with a certain someone that goes by the name of Bright Abbott? Old feelings of guilt sank in, mixed with a fluttery feeling in her stomach, painfully similar to butterflies. She'd resolutely broken all connections with Bright five years ago, a week after graduation. She couldn't bear inflicting any more pain on him by dragging him along in her possible life of disease and finally death. Not after Colin, and when they'd lost Ephram, she was even more sure of her decision. She'd break this cycle of tragedy, even though it had to mean never seeing him again.

It wasn't likely that Bright would even attend the reunion, but still. The Abbotts were such an important part of the town, and there were bound to be others who'd stare at her with cold eyes, or even eyes filled with fury. Her bedroom door was pushed open and an impatient Erin looked at her questioningly.

"You will regret this, you know," Erin sighed. "Never mind, just do what you think is best. Don't live your life, I don't care. But do stop the moping. I'm getting sick of it. I'm going to my parents for the night, so lock up if you do decide to go, alright?"

The door slammed shut and Hannah stood up. She walked over to the mirror, studying her face in the bright light that surrounded it. Erin was right about the whole mopy-ness. She lived her life always aware of the danger that could possibly be ahead. When boyfriends got too close, she pushed them away, the same with good friends. Erin was the only one that would not be pushed away, she just came back everytime.

She woke up the following morning in a quiet house, feeling a tinge of guilt towards Erin for not going. It was too late now anyhow, no way she could drive all the way to Colorado from Illinois anymore.

Leafing through a syllabus, she watched the hands on the clock, ticking the hours away. The reunion must have started by now, happy people catching up over coffees and sodas, looking up in wonder when they heard about Hannah going away, falling silent when they heard about Ephram. They sure had missed much.

Hannah laid down on her bed, tucked up her knees so that they almost reached her chin and tried to tune out everything. It didn't work ofcourse, the first face that popped up was Bright's, and even when she filtered him out, another Abbott came along. Amy.

Amy was the one friend that she ever regretted to have pushed away. She had been Hannah's first best friend, the first girl she could share everything with, even though they didn't always agree. After she left Everwood, they continued to call and write each other, but in the end all that remained were postcards on birthdays and national holidays. Now, even those were rare. Hannah often wondered what would have happened between them if Ephram hadn't died that day. It's no use thinking that way, Hannah. Noone can bring him back, remember?

The hours ticked away, while Hannah fell into a deep slumber, only to be woken by the loud ring of the phone. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she picked it up.

'Hannah speaking,' she said, half yawning, in the polite manner her parents had taught her when she was little.

"Hannah Davis?" A slightly familiar voice she couldn't quite place, hesitantly spoke.

"That's me."

"It's Bright. Abbott. From Everwood."

"Bright? (...) How ... How did you get this number?" It was amazing to hear his voice again, after all this time. Especially when she had just been dreaming about him, which, to be honest, was to be expected, after all those thoughts about the reunion and her past. She wasn't sure how she felt though, happy or scared.

"I called Amy. She leafed through some of your old letters and found it. I was hoping it would still work." He sighed nervously. "So. You weren't at the reunion."

"No. No, I wasn't. I didn't think you'd be there. Not that that was the reason for not going, I mean, ... " Her voice trailed off. What was she supposed to say? They hadn't talked in years. Last time they spoke she had left him behind in tears. Which was a pretty big deal for a strong guy like Bright, she realized that even back then.

"I didn't think it was. I wasn't even going to go in the first place, but when I found some old pictures of all of us ... And then there I was, on my own, Amy still in California and all that, and I couldn't find you, and I realized ... I realized that I really missed you." He took a deep breath. "Look, I know that this might be weird, but I'd like to see you sometime. For lunch or something, or coffee if you prefer. I live in Chicago now, so, it wouldn't be difficult."

Hannah hesitated. Her old worries started to bubble up again. What if they still liked each other? Or even worse, what if they would fall right back into love? Without thinking, she'd brought her fingers to her mouth again, chewing the bits of nail that still remained.

"I'm not sure, Bright," she said, so softly she was almost whispering. "I'd like to, but ... I need to think about it for a little while. Can you give me your number?"

He summed up the digits and then said goodbye, not waiting for an explanation. She could tell he was disappointed, even though he didn't say anything or even drew another breath. Carefully, she replaced the receiver and stared at it, deeply in thought until the door slammed almost an hour later. Erin was home.

"Erin? I need to talk to you."

"So I was thinking that I should take that test. Get it out of my system, because now ... it's an excuse for me to push everything and everyone away."

Erin didn't respond and took a sip of tea. She seemed deep in thought. By the time they had both finished their tea and Hannah had a considerable amount of cookies, Erin took a deep breath.

"Are you sure this is what you want? That it's something you want for you, not something for Bright? Look, sweetie, I think it's a good idea in general, to finally know all this, and not let it hang over you like some sort of doom. But it is something you have to do when you feel ready, not just for some boy." She smiled when she saw the look on Hannah's face. "Not even if it's this particular one."

Hannah considered Erin's words before she spoke again. "I think I'm ready. And even though it felt really good to hear Bright's voice again, I don't think I'm doing it for him. Or for what we had or might have. I'm not even sure I'm going to call him. But talking to him ... and to you the other day, I don't know, it just made me realize that I can't go on like this."

"Then I guess you should take that test," Erin nodded.

Hannah felt a little scared, walking into the clinic like that, but the lady at the frontdesk gave her a warm smile. "You must be Hannah," she said and motioned her to sit down in the waiting room. She picked up the phone.

"Doctor, Hannah's here."