heal me (in more ways than one)

Chapter One

Harry glances around the room once more, twirling his keys around his finger and letting out a small sigh as he looks for the last time at the place that was his home for the past two years. The space is empty, save for a few boxes that his mum wants to keep despite his protests. She will come and pick them up later this week, after Harry is already in Doncaster.

Harry decides that there's no point in dwelling, so he walks out the door and closes it behind him, stopping at the office to drop off his keys and let them know his mum will be by. He steps out onto the curb, calling a taxicab since his car had already been sent down to Donny.

The weather is humid, but strangely (or perhaps not, it is England) not hot at all. Still, Harry doesn't like the way his hair sticks to the back of his neck, so he pulls a hairband off of his wrist and ties his hair into a bun. The taxicab arrives a bit later, and Harry gets in the back, his mood too bittersweet for talking. He lets the cabbie know where to go, and some time later Harry is getting out, paying the man and giving him a generous tip for not trying to start a conversation. When he drives off, Harry walks into the building that he used to work in, the cool, clean smell all too familiar. His boots clunk on the linoleum floor, making sounds too loud for the quiet office.

The receptionist gives Harry a tight smile, probably because she never worked during Harry's shifts, and therefore doesn't know him or the fact that he's here to say goodbye. He walks into Simon's office first, the older man looking up from his desk when he sees Harry. He stands up immediately, a grin that Harry can feel himself mirroring spreading across his face. Simon greets him, cheery but with a sad undertone, pulling Harry in for a hug and clapping him on the back.

"Come to say goodbye to your cranky ol' boss, eh?" He laughs, and Harry does too, sitting down on a piece of equipment close by.

"I just want to thank you again. Really, you've become like a father figure to me, and the fact that you've given me this opportunity is beyond gratitude." Harry speaks slowly and sincerely, meaning every single word he says.

Simon smiles at that. "It has been such an honor to watch you grow up into the fine young man you are today. You've outgrown this little facility, and it's time you go do the bigger, better things you were meant to do."

Harry thanks Simon and stands up, giving him a final goodbye and telling him that he is leaving London after lunch. After the bittersweet interaction, Harry finds himself knocking on Nick's door. He answers after a minute, and grins when he sees Harry. "We off, then?" he asks, stepping out of the doorway in front of Harry and closing the door behind him.

"Suppose we are," Harry agrees, and after a short drive they find themselves at a diner, sitting at an outside table and waiting for Cara. The three of them had become good friends after Harry moved to London, which made the drastic change much easier. He isn't sure if they'll remain friends after this new move, but Harry understands that things change, and if they keep in touch, that's great, but if they don't, then that's fine too.

They have good conversation, recalling all the good times they'd had over the past two years. It's really satisfying to think about the past, but at the same time Harry is excited to think about the future. Eventually the time comes when Harry has to go to the train station, so the threesome stands up, an awkward but sad moment passing between them, none of them wanting to say goodbye. Harry eventually breaks the silence, pulling the both of them in for a hug and promising to talk soon. Then he finds himself back in a taxicab, only this time he's heading towards his future.

Not even twenty minutes into the four hour train ride to Doncaster, Harry finds himself incredibly bored. His long legs clad in tight black skinny jeans are stretched out underneath the seat in front of his, and his head is tipped back, staring at the ceiling above him. He drums his fingers on the window sill absentmindedly, debating on whether or not to use his precious phone data to save himself from this crippling boredom.