Fic: Veronica Mars: Life Goes On (Hannah) PG
Title: Life Goes On
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing/Character: Hannah, OC. Dr. Griffith mention
Word Count: 1108
Summary: Hannah Griffith's all grown up. That's pretty much it.
Spoilers: 2.16, The Rapes of Graff
Notes: Written for finkpishnets. I've never written Hannah before, but hopefully this is pretty good. Enjoy!
Hannah Griffith-Brady walked into the building and up to the front desk, the sound of her heels echoing in the large corridor. The girl behind the desk looked up and smiled brightly.
"Good morning, Mrs. Brady! Would you like me to tell them that you're in?"
"That would be great, thanks."
She slipped her sunglasses off and walked away and to the elevator. She smiled as she waited and replayed last night's conversation in her head.
The water ran over her hands and she shuddered at the cold. She turned the second knob and the water began to warm her hands slowly. She turned toward the door before calling over the sound of the water and the television in the adjoining room.
"Abbi, can you come in here?"
Abigail, twelve years old and as blond as anyone could ever be, walked into the kitchen. She stood by the door, as if she was afraid to come in completely, and looked at Hannah with expectant eyes.
"Come in." She turned back toward the sink.
Abigail came in slowly and stopped next to her. Hannah finished scrubbing the pot and held it out towards her. The girl took it without talking back - for once - and Hannah smiled, but replaced the smile with a slight frown once she remembered why she had called her in.
They continued on for a few minutes - Hannah scrubbing a dish, Abigail rinsing a dish - without speaking.
"Honey," Hannah said and turned to look at her daughter directly in the eyes. "If you're having trouble with the girls at school, you tell me. You don't go off... hitting them. It will only get you in trouble."
She wrung her hands before grabbing the pink towel from the counter and drying them off and passed it to Abigail. She did the same.
"I know, but..." The girl looked down and didn't continue until Hannah placed her hand under her chin and lifted her head so that they were looking at each other once again. "They were teasing me, about me not having a father, and I just wanted them to understand that it hurts."
Hannah's expression softened from its earlier disciplinary look. She dropped her hand from Abigail's chin and used it and her other to place the girl's hair behind her ears. She nodded.
"It does hurt, but we have to move on."
The girl grabbed Hannah's left hand from her hair and pointed at it.
"Then why do you still wear your ring?"
Hannah placed her hand close to her chest.
"It's... different for adults. We move on, but differently. We, neither of us, ever have to forget, but we have to do what they would like us to. We have to move on and be happy. We can do that."
Abigail looked at her with glassy eyes and nodded again.
"I want to be happy."
"If you help me, I'll help you," she said with a playful glint in her own glassy eyes.
The girl giggled through her now present tears.
The elevator dinged as it arrived at the 15th floor and Hannah stepped out. She walked down the long hall towards the glass double doors at the end.
"Mrs. Brady!" A young woman around twenty-four walked up to her quickly. "You have a meeting with a new client, Mr. Ramirez, at 10 this morning, and here are your messages."
Hannah took the scraps of paper and began to walk toward her office.
She walked to the glass doors and opened them both swiftly and walked in, letting them close gently behind her. She sat down at the desk and placed her briefcase onto the desk in front of her, and placed the message memos next to it.
The top message glared at her from its place on the glass desk. She breathed in deeply before picking it up and reading it closer.
A Dr. Griffith called. Said that it was urgent. Call him back as soon as you can.
The handwriting was almost illegible, but she was sure that she was not seeing things. She scanned her eyes over it a few more times, not completely taking in any more information than she did the first time.
She shook her head and ripped the tiny note into even tinier pieces before throwing them forcibly into the metal trashcan next to one of her feet.
She picked up the other messages.
Throughout the day she tried to reason with herself that it was OK for her to tell her daughter one thing - that she must move on without her father without having a say in it - and to tell herself another - that she must move on without a father who was alive and at her own will.
The phone seemed to beckon her towards it all day, but she could not. She would never speak to him again and it was absurd that he expected her to. She wasn't even sure how he could have ever found out where she was. The image of him going to someone to find her filled her with rage, but she quickly calmed herself down.
She leaned back into the large chair and closed her eyes. She brought her hands up to her face and slowly massaged her temples. She imagined her daughter's face and her own when she was younger, when her father had sent her to boarding school because of his own inability to raise her, and when he had refused to ever apologize.
She straightened up and stood from the chair, grabbing her briefcase and the few incomplete papers from the day. She headed out of the door and smiled once again as she entered the elevators and looked at the office in front of her. She was doing fine and she was happy, despite all of the things that should have left her depressed. She had come a long way, from daddy's little girl who wasn't daddy's little girl after certain events to loving mother working her way through her husband's death, and she was fine. She was dealing with it just fine, just as she had when her father had sent her away.
Her phone rang and she fished it out of her suit jacket pocket, answering it without even looking at the screen.
"Can you stop and get a movie on your way home? I made an A on my Math test."
She laughed and nodded to herself.
"Of course. I'm so proud. I'll see you in a bit. Love you."
"Love you, too."
She was just fine.