blue surrender [l.s.]

8. there's nothing i can do, im helpless without you

in the lonely hour (acoustic) - sam smith

*

(dedicated to my dad. i miss you.

warning: major character death - not really?)

***

When his phone rings as he's walking out the door at five a.m. the next morning, a Thursday, to catch his seven a.m. flight to London, Harry isn't expecting it to be his mother.

"Mum, really, I'm literally on my way out the door to the airp-"

"Harry," his mother's voice picks up, cracking a little, and- what?

Harry freezes just as he starts to open his car door, and his heart drops. No. Not now. Not today. He was just on his way to see her.

Anne's broken cries start to pick up over the phone line, and Harry drops his duffle bag that was clutched tightly in his right hand. "Mum?"

"I'm so sorry," she sobs, and Harry can't think, doesn't want to at the moment, "she- she couldn't take anymore. It was overnight, it was quick. She's gone, Harry, I'm-"

Harry's not listening anymore. He drops his phone, ignores the shattering sound of its screen, and then, he drops to his knees.

Memories. That's what flashes first and foremost through his mind, instead of the fact that his sister is dead. He remembers the night he told Gemma he was gay, remembers the way she took him into her arms. She told him she still loved him, always would no matter what, and Harry knew from then on that his sister was always going to be on his side. The two of them, boy, they were inseparable. Partners in crime, even. They got in trouble together, shared each other's darkest secrets, slept over in each other's rooms after a long, late night of talking. Harry loved his sister, still does, and he always will.

He remembers when she first told him she had been diagnosed with stage two breast cancer, that she would be getting worse, that she only had so long before she'd kick the bucket. Remembers how she'd passed out the night before after dinner, when she stood from her chair because she felt sick and collapsed suddenly. Remembers the hospital and waiting for hours before the doctor came out and told his mother in a separate hall about her illness, remembers how Anne came back to Harry sobbing and couldn't even tell him. Remembers how he cried and cried into Gemma's shoulder after he was allowed to see her, after she told him, felt guilty and selfish for wanting her attention and love when she had just told him the most devastating news of her life. He remembers when she told him after he stopped crying that it was okay to cry, that she had known for quite some time due to feeling weak often and wanting to sleep all the time and missing school and the lump on her chest she never told anyone about until it was almost too late.

Harry can hear Anne calling for him faintly from his cracked phone somewhere on the ground, but he can't answer her. He's sobbing too hard, leaning his forehead against the door of his car and shaking uncontrollably.

And then it hits him. Is he supposed to catch his flight? Is he supposed to go home now, after all this, and face his sorrow stricken mother with a smile on his face?

With strength he doesn't really have, Harry finds his phone and sighs when he sees the long crack running from one corner to the other. He puts it carefully back to his ear, hearing his mother cry for him and apologising for what, he doesn't know. "Mum," his voice is hoarse, "what do I do?"

"Come home, Harbear," she softly uses the pet name he hasn't heard in forever, not since he left London when Gemma- Gemma.

"Yeah. Yeah, alright. I have to go. Gonna miss my flight."