Haven [Sons of Anarchy]

Chapter Four

The weeks following the funeral went by in a blur. Hanna churned out designs and budgets and pitched fundraiser ideas like a woman possessed. Sleepless nights and rolling into the office still half-drunk was apparently a recipe for creativity. Though she knew if she didn't slow down, she was going to crash.

"Hanna's falling back into her old habits," Tristen said, taking on the haughty mocking tone of her mother. Hanna just laughed as she drove her little sister to choir practice. Karen wasn't wrong, but Hanna just didn't care.

She'd burn out eventually, and then she'd head back to Elliot's and hole up at the ranch and let him say, "I told you so." But until then, she was putting off the inevitable.

The shrill ringtone on her phone woke Hanna up. She cracked one eye open and took in the chaos in the club. Passed out bodies in various states of undress. Bobby's welcome home party. Without a witness, they had no choice but to cut him loose.

By this time of night, most of the bodies belonged to Crow Eaters. If Gemma or Tara had been by, they were long gone. Old ladies didn't pass out on top of pool tables with their boys. Hanna still hadn't quite adjusted her old habits to fit her new position.

The phone rang again and she rolled over, slipping out from under Juice's arm. Her hand blindly searching for a way to stop the offending noise. Finally she grabbed it, and flipped it open. Hanna pushed herself up on her elbow, and grunted out a greeting somewhere between "hello" and "fuck off."

"Hanna, can you meet me at my place?" Tara asked.

Hanna pulled the phone back from her face to check the time. "It's like 4 in the morning." Tara just repeated her question. Hanna looked down at her bare legs. "Do I need pants?"

"Are you drunk?" Tara asked.

"Maybe," Hanna replied. "Do I need pants?"

Tara groaned. "Forget it, go back to sleep."

"I'm up, I'm up," Hanna grumbled. "I'll be there in twenty." She flicked the phone closed and rolled off the pool table, gingerly stepping over the Crow Eater on the ground.

She made a loop around the room, finally spotting her jeans. She leaned down on the armrest. "You're sitting on my pants," she whispered to Tig, trying not to wake anyone else up. He cracked one eye open and pulled her into his lap.

Hanna rolled her eyes, and reached down to grab her jeans, wiggling them out from under him. "Thanks." He made no move to let her go, and she gave his cheek two soft smacks. "Get your greasy hands off my ass, Tiggy."

His arms slid away and she pushed herself up, hopping into her jeans. "Goodnight," Tig mumbled.

Hanna padded over to the bar and downed a glass of water while she put on her shoes. She muttered to herself, "This better be fucking important."

On the other side of town, Hanna pulled up outside Tara's house. The doctor met her at the door and waved her inside, glancing around as if she were expecting someone to pop out from the bushes.

If Hanna hadn't sobered up already, the sight of Unser standing in the living room did the trick. "What's wrong?" She asked, pushing past him into the room.

Gemma looked up from the couch, her face was bruised and her cheek was split open. "Oh, for fucks sake, you called her?"

Hanna glanced between Tara and Unser, looking for an explanation. "In case you've forgotten, Hanna's dealt with this before," Tara reminded Gemma. It took a second for Hanna to connect the dots.

She took another look at Gemma and dropped onto the couch next to her. "Jesus, Gem. It's going to be okay." She put a reassuring hand on Gemma's arm. "Who did this?"