Helping Hand

**(Formerly titled "Blank Slate".) Travis reaches out to Hanna after she has a particularly violent run-in with one of A's minions. A Havis story. Slightly AR Season 4. I really, REALLY liked this couple so I wanted to pay tribute to them. No bashing please. I will never apologize for liking who I like. Thanks.**


Chapter 1

Travis checked his watch yet again. 8:35 p.m. Hanna should have been here over an hour ago. The hostess at this fancy French restaurant with a name he couldn't pronounce kept giving him the evil eye. Obviously, ordering soda after soda to stall time wasn't cutting it. She wanted him gone so she could give the table to higher-paying customers. The sad thing was that Travis had been prepared to blow three weeks' pay on this place, just to please Hanna. But she wasn't here. Their dates sort of always ended badly, if they got started at all. This one certainly hadn't even gotten off the ground.

When 8:40 rolled around, he saw the hostess throwing him even nastier glares than before. She motioned a waitress over to him and he knew he was really being kicked out. The busty brunette waitress approached him. "Check please," he said, immediately holding out his hand. She put the little black cash tray in his hand and he saw that his four sodas had cost him nearly twenty-five dollars. Oh well. He'd just call this night a bust and go home to his place, say goodnight to his dad, crawl in bed and try not to dream about Hanna - again.

He paid the tab and added a fairly generous tip. He then grabbed his suit jacket and slipped it on. He was out the restaurant door in the next minute and headed to his broken down jalopy in the next. He was just about to open the door when he heard hurried footsteps approaching. He instinctively turned around.

"Hanna?" He said. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Her fancy dress was all muddied and torn and her face was eerily pale. Her lip was split open, too, and she had tracks of blood and grime on her knees.

He ran right to her side. "Hanna, what happened? Talk to me, okay?"

"Travis, am I – am I too late for dinner? I tried to hurry," she said. He didn't know how to respond. She looked so sad, so devastated and also very out of sorts. He closed the distance between them and lightly touched her chin which was spotted with crusted blood.

"Hey, don't worry about dinner. Just tell me – tell me what happened," he said. To his surprise, she sagged and started to topple towards the ground. He caught her underneath the arms. "Hanna, talk to me. Please…. Never mind. You know what? Forget it. Save your strength. I'm getting you to the hospital."

He genuinely was afraid of hurting her but knew she wasn't going to make it any further on her own. He scooped her up in his arms as gently as he could and tucked her against his chest. He walked around to the other side of the car and pried open the passenger door. He leaned inside, depositing Hanna's petite body on the seat. He then ran to the driver's side, opened the door and hopped in. He immediately reached for her hand. It felt cold and clammy to the touch. He was scared. Scared for Hanna and angry at whoever had done this. He figured that a lip didn't just split open on its own.

"Hanna, can you hear me? I'm taking you to the hospital. They'll help you out." He started to pull his cell phone from his pocket as he gunned the engine with his free hand. He pushed down on the number 9 and the number 1 and was about to press the other 1 to call the police when Hanna grabbed for his hand.

"Don't," she said weakly. She was looking at him through blurry eyes.

"Don't call the cops? Hanna, someone –" He choked on the bitter taste of his words. "Someone obviously hurt you. The police can sort this out."

"They can't," Hanna said. "Just call Aria or Emily or Spencer. Just call one of them. They can help me out." She seemed more lucid now but her eyes closed and she sunk against the seat, rolling herself into a tight little ball, pressing her back against the driver's side door.

"Hanna –"

"Please," she whispered. "Call Aria, Em or Spence… I can't talk to anyone else. Not now."

Travis nodded. "Okay. But I don't have any of their phones numbers so-"

"I have their numbers in my phone," Hanna said. "It's in my purse… Wait, where's my purse?" She started to cry then. Fat teardrops rolled down her face. "It's Kate Spade. It's designer. Where's my – where's my purse? They must have- they must have … Oh, A…" She murmured through her tears. She was making no sense to Travis really. Simultaneously he tried to focus on her and watch the road. He was tempted to drive to the hospital against her wishes, but he didn't want to force her to do anything she didn't want to do. She had obviously been pushed around enough for one night.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles were almost white and translucent in the darkness. The thought of someone hurting Hanna … Well, he had never, ever been a violent guy, but he wanted to tear whoever did this into a million pieces with his bare hands.

"It's okay. We can find your purse later, Hanna," he said. "For now, lemme call information and try to find one of your friends' numbers."

Hanna murmured something unintelligible and Travis sighed. He didn't know what to do. But he called information and asked for the number of the Montgomerys of Rosewood. He was quickly informed that the number was unlisted. Next he asked for Spencer Hastings. She was unlisted as well. Finally, he took a chance on Emily Fields and actually got a result. He asked the operator to connect him to the Fields residence and she said she would.

The phone rang three times and then he heard a feminine voice say "Hello?" She sounded wary.

"Emily?"

"Who's calling?" She asked now, sounding more guarded as if she expected the worst every time the phone rang.

"It's Travis. Travis Hobbs from school. I am calling because I've got Hanna with me… We had a date and she showed up late and –"

"Wait, Travis, slow down here. What's going on?"

"Hanna's hurt, Emily. I don't know how it happened or anything but she's all torn up and she doesn't want to go to the hospital. She wants to see you and Spencer and Aria only."

"Is she okay right now?"

Travis glanced at Hanna. "She's kind of… I don't know. Maybe in shock?"

"Wow. Um, okay. Definitely bring her here. I'll call Aria and Spencer and have them come over, too. My parents are not home so just park in the driveway."

"Okay, uh, thanks."

"No problem. Hanna is my friend and I just want her to be okay."

Travis nodded. "Yeah me too. What's your address?"

Emily rattled it off, even giving him directions. Travis said he would be there in ten minutes tops and they disconnected. Travis looked over at Hanna once again. She was either asleep or passed out against the misty windowpane. He wanted to reach out and shake her awake but was oddly afraid to try. He was afraid it would cause her more pain.

Instead he turned on the car heater and cranked it up to high. The only good things about this shitty car were that it had wheels and a working heater. He hoped Hanna would feel warm and protected in here with him somehow.

"Hanna, we're getting help," he said to her. She murmured and he sighed. "You're going to be okay, alright? I'll see to that… some way."