I Hear You Calling In the Dead of Night

Chapter 10: A Misunderstanding

~Oh, I feel overjoyed when you listen to my words.  I see them sinking in. Oh, I see them crawling underneath your skin...~

I hear you calling in the dead of night

On Friday, Fizzy unexpectedly wakes up and asks for a sip of water. By Sunday, she's back home, a lingering cough the only evidence that she was ever sick. It's a miraculous recovery by all accounts and they're dazed with relief. As the Tomlinson's readjust to life outside the hospital, Harry starts to feel like he's no longer needed and after a big family breakfast on Sunday, he starts making his excuses to go home. He's missed a whole week of school so it's not like he needs an excuse, but when he looks around the table he realizes everyone belongs there but him.

He's not sure when Louis' house started to feel like home, but his throat feels tight at the prospect of returning to his own house, with its silences and the lingering ghost of his grandmother's disapproval. He doesn't blame his mum for having to work all the time - it's his dad's fault for leaving them with nothing - but that doesn't stop him from missing her, from wanting her around. He can't remember the last time he and his mum hung out, just the two of them. It feels like he lost two parents and not one when they left and he can't help but feel it's all his fault. He knows Gemma has a lot on her plate too - that the baby has forced her to grow up faster than she ever intended - but he misses when it was just the two of them banded together against their dad, against the world. Now she and Ed and the baby will be their own family and there's no room for Harry in it.

He's spent all week holding everyone together - and at the end of it all, it's just him - alone with his books and his computer, and the gnawing feeling that there's something more, something better.

Jay and Mark insist that Harry at least stay for dinner and Harry and Louis spend the hours between breakfast and then lying on Louis' bed watching movies. Louis rests his head on Harry's chest and Harry quietly plays with his hair as Louis dozes, drifting in and out of consciousness. Louis is still exhausted from the past week, but Harry can see him coming back to himself, bit by bit. He's lost some weight in the past two weeks, but the color is slowly returning to his face and the dark circles under his eyes aren't as pronounced. He even made a joke or two over breakfast and Harry's just so, so relieved to have the old Louis back. Part of him wasn't sure he'd ever see him again.

Harry gets up at some point while Louis is asleep and sits down at his desk, flipping open Louis' laptop. The desktop is set to a picture of some footie team and Harry smiles to himself as he pulls up the web browser, trying to angle the glowing monitor so he doesn't wake Louis. Harry hasn't written anything in days - too exhausted and worried - but his fingers are twitching in anticipation as he pulls up the Google doc he's been working on, rereading the last few paragraphs before he begins to type.

Elliot looks even worse than the previous day. His features are sunken and his skin is as white as a sheet of Xerox paper. His body emits a peculiar odor, like sodden autumn leaves, like rot.

"You need to eat," Charlie says, standing over the bed.

Elliot glimpses the steak knife Charlie is carrying in one hand and rolls his head away, gritting his teeth, the muscles in his neck strained. "No." His protest is a merely a whisper, like the rasp of Velcro when it separates.

"You'll get sick if you don't."

"I'm already sick," Elliot snaps. His head is throbbing and even the small, imperceptible shifts of the light filtering in through the window shade seem to pierce right to his core.

"You won't die, you know, if that's what you were hoping for. But you will be in a hell of a lot of pain. And any hunger you feel now, it'll be worse, much worse. There's no telling what you'll do or who you'll hurt."