{An UnDead Overture}

I want to consider that none of anything that happened to Hanna was my fault, but at the same time, I know and understand that all the blame rests on my shoulders. I should have taken him to Worth sooner, should have listened to the truth, but I was foolish. I chose to be greedy, to use Hanna's unhealthiness to determine answers that I wanted, to learn more about him. I am guilty, and the only thing that makes this any worse is that everyone - excluding Hanna - knows what I did. They all see me differently. It's not their opinions that bothers me; it is the fact that they know how guilty I am. It would be one thing to suffer in total silence - I can live with myself. But it is another thing entirely when you are constantly reminded of your crimes.

Hanna, I know, will probably forgive me when I gather the courage to finally admit my crimes. In his feverish delusions, the things about himself he told, the secrets I learned...No, I actually think he might feel relief. The things I discovered, the thoughts I heard - Hanna has always feared his friends leaving him, has always thought that if everyone knew the hideous truth, they would leave him. And then there would be nothing. But the fact that I knew - and stayed - would make him both happy, although I can't believe that even Hanna wouldn't be just a little disappointed in me. In fact, I'm sure I'll see some new emotion creep up on his face, some expression I'll regret seeing. I know, one day, I'll pay, but I'll gladly wait until then.

Won't you hear me out? You must think me to be a horrible person at this point; I'll admit - I do too, but you don't know all the details. You don't know, and at this moment, I'm debating with myself; Should I even tell you? It isn't as though you'd go running to Hanna - or at least, I hope you don't. And even if you did, he might not even believe you. But then again, when I tell Hanna, I should know what I want to say...It might be good to rehearse a little.

Get comfortable - I'll just start from the beginning.

I'd noticed that, during the day, my little ginger friend was tired and quiet, but I only brought his newfound fatigue into the light once or twice. In response, he'd get hyper, and then calm down again, as if hoping I wouldn't realize. I'd considered that night not going on one of my wanderings. "No, Holmes! We need foooood!" Hanna whined, as if eager to have me out of the apartment. I was fine with this; I know people want personal space, I just wish he'd have been more up-front about it. "Please get Lucky Charms while you're gone, Ichabod!" Hanna called out to me as I stepped out of the apartment door.

I came back several hours later, (I'd lost count after the first two), with four boxes of Lucky Charms and two bags of chocolate chips. I had made chocolate chip muffins before, in an attempt to get Hanna to cook with me, but we ended up being blasted into the opposite wall. I hadn't made muffins since then, afraid to give Hanna the sort of war flashbacks soldiers get when they come home after someone drops something. I don't know why, but the thought of Hanna being terrified of muffins was amusing to me. I crept into the apartment, figuring Hanna would be asleep on his designated mattress. I stepped into the front room of the apartment, taking a quick look around.

Looking back, I realize how foolish I was in looking at the mattress last. I saw a catbed Hanna had gotten for me as a joke, the hamster cage in which Hanna kept Luce, a rather large cockroach we'd gotten at Worth's, and several other things of interest we'd accumulated over the months. Finally I looked to the mattress on the floor to see if I'd waken my friend, but I was met with nothingness. No one was on the mattress, although I noticed right away a sickly sight; there was a pool of vomit on the floor.

I dropped the grocery bag and dashed into the kitchen, the only other place he would have gone, and found the small and frail redhead collapsed on the floor. At first I mistook his short and labored breathing for twitching; he looked as though he'd just run a marathon. After I kneeled to the ground at his side, I turned him over to see yet another pile of vomit and a rune on his hand; one of which I hadn't seen before. Sickly panic rising in my stomach, I picked up the half-conscious man and laid him on top of his bed, and afterwards tended to both the pools of sick he'd left, leaving a bucket at his bedside for future use.

When I came back, he seemed much more awake. I put my hand on his forehead, afterwards realizing I couldn't really feel hot and cold well enough to tell if he had a fever. "Hanna? Hanna - are you okay? I'll take you to Worth -" I said softly, trying my best not to startle him. I started to get to my feet to get him a jacket when I felt him tugging weakly on my coat sleeve. "No - I d-don't wanna get up..." He muttered, half his face buried in the pillow that was older than I was. I could tell by the visible half of his face that he was clearly in agony. "I'll - I'll take you when you fall asleep." I muttered, sitting back down beside him. He nodded and turned over onto his back; clearly having trouble breathing into a stuffy old pillow.

I would only leave him to get water, or to clean out the bucket, but I was with him at all other times. Sometimes he would cry out in pain, others he would be at peace, breathing rapidly all the while. I could only watch in horror as the minutes turned to hours, until I realized Hanna was in so much miserable pain he wouldn't fall asleep until he was physically exhausted. But I promised inwardly to sit with him through all the pain. I watched, but the longer Hanna lay there, the worse he seemed to have gotten. It was nearly dawn at the point in which I began to notice his eyes darting to the left every other moment. It seemed with every passing minute, he would look in that direction more and more, until it seemed he was staring at the other side of the room. I filled with dread when I realized what was happening.

"Hanna - Can you hear me? What're you looking at?" I asked, my voice climbing in volume and shaking slightly all the while. I watched as his eyes filled with fear and his mouth opened to let out an inaudible scream. I sat him upwards, and he complied without protest, to give him a drink of water. He looked defeated, I noticed, as I tipped the glass. Hanna's eyes did not leave that corner all the while he was drinking. When finally he'd finished the glass, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Can you tell me what is bothering you? Can I fix it, Hanna?" As if on cue, Hanna closed his eyes tight and shook his head.

"...Gotta do something...not breathing, have to save him..."

That was all the sense I could make out of Hanna's fevered rambles, watching with a stab of horror as I glanced to the exact spot in which he would stare; seeing nothing. Hallucinations. I began to panic; I had to take him to Worth, but he looked like he was in so much pain, I wasn't sure how to get him down the street without causing a hideous amount of pain and a scene. So I tried my best to soothe him. "No one's there, Hanna...Lie back down."

"No! Claus...He'll die if I don't watch him...die without me..."

Claus? Not a name I was familiar with - in fact...Hanna had never used that name for me before. I watched in confused silence as Hanna weakly grabbed his magic marker, writing yet another unfamiliar rune on his palm, muttering some phrase I couldn't comprehend. Before I knew it, his palm was smacked onto my forehead, and my surroundings - including Hanna - were fading around me, until all that was visible was the rune, which glowed silver in the blackness.

I watched as surroundings began to blur back into comprehensible things, although I didn't recognize the room I was in. My hearing became profoundly acute as small phrases found their way into my head. "...Tell you a story" was the first whispered phrase I noticed. It was similar to possession - although these thought weren't my own. And I wasn't afraid or confused. Even in a dazed fever, I trusted Hanna. That is where my crimes started; egging him on. I put my curiosity before his health.

Hope you like this one more than the last!

Hanna is Not a Boy's Name! belongs to Tessa Stone

Although I'm pretty sure someone else used the idea of Hanna being sick before, I just gonna keep going on.

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