Games {Narry AU}

006 pt.2

'Find Me'

~Niall~

As my eyes opened, I was blinded by the white lights hanging above me. It was familiar but not. A person with white scrubs walked in.

"How are you feeling today Mr. Horan?" The lady asked, holding a clipboard in one hand and a syringe with another.

"What is that?" I ask struggling against the bonds and bucked restricting my wrists and ankles.

"Are gonna have to go through all this again, Mr. Horan? If you can't calm down for me then I'll have to inject you again." The lady said.

"Where's Harry? I need him here," I mutter, panicked. Testing the resistance again. A sigh emits from her pursed lips as she slowly walks to my side.

"Niall, I don't know how many times we must go through this. He's not real. Not anymore. You have to forget him. He wasn't good for you. He used you. You have to move on," she said.

"What are you talking about? We were just together, I love him, he loves me." I say, tears starting to gather in the corners on my eyes. No, no, no, no, no.

**

~Psychiatrist~

I felt so bad for this kid. He'd been through a traumatic, abusive relationship with a man who's now in prison. He ended up here because he refused to believe he was hurting him. That he still loves him. It drove him insane. He had dreams and visions of them being together that it eventually led to his whole view on life altering to his fantasies. He no longer knows the essence of reality.

His conscience took over his life. His 'good' conscience and 'bad' conscience. Harry took the form of his 'bad' conscience and "Jacob" as his 'good' one. In his mine they were switched, making it worse.

No one knows if he'll come out of this phase, this trance. We've tried almost everything. At some point, we have to let him go.

"Niall, do you want lunch?" I ask carefully, wiping his tears away with a napkin.

"I want lunch with Harry, he always knows what I want."

I sigh and take a look at the sheet on which I'm obligated to update on his progress. Under the column that says 'MENTAL STABILITY PROGRESS', I write none.

Under where it says 'PROGRESS IN THE PATIENT'S VIEW OF REALITY', I write none.

'EMOTIONAL STABILITY', slight progress, not as much as what was hoped for.

'ABILITY TO DIFFERENTIATE THE PAST FROM PRESENT', Not very substantial. Little to none.

Taking one last look as the damaged boy, I turn and leave the room, in search of a nurse to bring him a lunch tray.

"Nurse June, would you mind bringing a lunch to room 105?" I ask, sending her a small smile in which I get a sympathetic one in return.

"That's Niall Horan, yeah?"

"Yes, is that a problem," I ask frowning.

"No, no. I just- he hasn't been eating what I give him. He says it's not the same as Harry's cooking," she says, fidgeting with the hem of her scrub top. I hum in disapproval and bite my lip.

"I think it's time we step up our treatment just a bit. Don't bring him lunch or dinner. Wait until he asks for it, he will break. He'll realize he needs it more than he needs Harry's cooking. I'll see him tomorrow for another session and I know some exercises that might help more than the ones I've been doing." I say, slightly unsure of my own words. She nods and walks off to write that additional information on his chart.

I peek in his small window once more before checking in on two other patients routinely, heading home.

**

"Any news on Niall? How did the food thing work?" I ask the same nurse as yesterday.

"He did ask for food but he said he still prefers Harry's food," she said sadly. I nod and thank her before knocking and opening his door.

"Good morning, Mr. Horan. How are you feeling this morning." I ask, pulling a chair beside him.

"None of it was real was it?" He asks, staring blankly at the white wall to his right. My mouth drops open in surprise.

"Mr. Horan... can you explain to me what you mean by that please." I mutter, flipping to my comments page.

"He... he never loved me. It's like I can't see the difference between what love is and what it isn't. I'm here sometimes but sometimes I'm not. My brain is battling with my heart and my heart wins. They say to always do that but in this case it's not the best. Sometimes I can see us in the perfect relationship but other times I can see right through his stupid words and actions." He rambles, frowning and looking at me.

By this point, I'm looking at him curiously. My head cocked and the tip of my pen in my mouth.

"Wow." Is all I can say.

"I just wish I could stay in this state of mind, you know? I wish my brain could stay in charge. Whenever I go back into the state of mind in which I lose what reality is, I convince myself all over again that what we had is real. I usually spend my correct state of mind trying decipher if it was real before I really know that it wasn't. And then I go back to thinking it was. It hurts. It's like... like my mind is playing games with me." He finishes, crying into his hands. I stand and rub his back.

"I'm really glad you told me this, Mr. Horan. Now I know how to help," I whisper, hearing his sobs turn to sniffles and his sniffles turn to shallow breaths. He looks at me with a smile and mutters a thank you before turning over to go to sleep.

I smile and walk out the room, filling out all the sections with a heart full of hope.

**

Three Weeks Later

I'm printing Niall's release form for Niall, his mother, and I to sign to confirm he's better and ready to leave. The past few weeks have flown by with much progress from Niall. So much that he's able to leave after just over two months of being here. I'm glad he's able to leave and live his life with his grip on reality and a safe outlook on love.

Keeping our relationship strictly professional was hard, we've grown a strong bond to where he promised to call me when he got home, we'd meet up for lunch sometime.

After everyone signed the form, I got many thank you's from the family in which I told them it was a pleasure. It was the most fulfilling feeling to watch Niall walk out the door with a large smile and tears of joy parading down his cheeks. Rather than his distressed entrance on a gourney, shackled and bound with tears in his eyes from a battling brain and heart.

**

//N// I decided to make this a short story because I have something in mind. I'm starting a new story called Send Forgiveness. I'll post something about it by the end of the week. This is the end of this story. I really hope you liked it. I'm thinking about making this just the first book in the series. Much more to come. Thanks for reading.

~K