brainchild | z.m. & n.h. au

viii.

Niall wonders if he’ll ever feel anything but tiny, insignificant—wonders if he ever has felt anything else but if the greyness of what rests between his ribs is any indication he figures the answer is no. His fingers curl unappreciatively around the thin cotton of his pants and he’d really just like to tear through it—to be rid of the clothes they’d handed to him and the bracelet itching at his wrist and just be free. He often wonders what freedom tastes like prior to realizing that his life really wasn’t that long ago. He’s simply forgotten…which brings him back to feeling tiny.

“Niall?” the doctor questions in the same tone as always—the one that makes Niall feel even smaller than usual. He smiles, “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Thinking. You’re easily distracted, Niall. You’re thinking about all of the things you aren’t telling me.” He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose even though it’s entirely unnecessary and Niall gulps. He’s not sure when he became so goddamn terrified of people but it’s nearly crippling.

“Tell me about your childhood, Niall. Would you consider it normal?” The last word floats between them like a curse and the blonde boy would like it shoo it away along with the demons he can feel pinching their claws into his back.

“Yes,” he answers timidly, “I mean…I think so…don’t remember much, honestly.”

“When did you start losing your memory? Recently?”

Niall nods, “I think so…yeah…don’t remember much before you guys came and got me…brought me here.”

With a sigh, the doctor places his pen strategically in the seam between his pages, “Niall, I hate to think that you aren’t trying.”

“What d’you mean?” his breath catches in his throat embarrassingly like bugs in a fly trap and he mourns hot august nights sitting on the porch, listening to the buzzing of insects and the trickling of the river that leads to the lake.

“Do you think perhaps you’re forgetting these things on purpose, Niall? Like maybe you don’t want to remember so you’re not allowing yourself to?”

Niall shakes his head, feels a bit like crying, “No. I want to remember.”

“Okay, let’s start by telling me something about your teenage years. Anything. Nothing is insignificant.”

“Um, alright,” he murmurs, thinking and thinking and thinking until he’s sure he’s blown a fuse, “Water.” He’s not sure why he says it—no one is sure why is he says it, but for a boy who is terrified of the rain and the lake and all things wet perhaps it makes sense.

“Water? Swimming, maybe? Rain?”

“All of it,” Niall nods, “Swimming, mostly…deep water…it’s scary.”

The doctor smiles, “Great. Well, you have nothing to be afraid of here, so don’t worry. I think that’s enough for today, what about you?”

Niall nods and pinches his thumb between his fingers. Definitely enough.

…

The lineup for the medication is daunting, to say the least, and Niall would be lying if he said his fingers aren’t trembling. It’s raining today. Tiny droplets hit the windows and the roof with rhythmic little thuds that hold promises the same way the pills do. He thinks the other patients are mere reflections of the sky—grey in all of the places they shouldn’t be and dreary like the sopping forest a football field’s length away from the well-hidden hospital.

The nurse hands him his cup of pills with a straight-line for a smile and a grasp firm enough to snap his wrist. Her eyes burn into his like lasers and all he can do is swallow and walk away because there’s not a brave bone in his body. He finds a seat in the far corner of the room, being sure to keep his back to the wall and his chair a safe distance from the windows, lest the rain puncture the glass and drown him.

Niall takes a good look at his cup, counts the number of pills (3) and keeps in mind the colours (white, purple, yellow). They feel heavy on his tongue like lead and he wonders if he’ll choke to death and beat the rain to it. He doesn’t. And something deep within his lungs twitches in resentment.

He’s waiting for the side effects when a familiar figure takes the seat beside him. The chair scrapes horrendously across the linoleum floor and he’s absolutely certain this building is trying to kill him.

“Hi Niall,” Zayn says smoothly, easily, resting his arm along the back of his chair.

“Hi,” Niall blushes. He’s not sure why.

The raven-haired boy smiles at him for a second too long before adverting his eyes to the empty cup sitting in front of them. “Taking your medication like a good little boy I see.”

“Yes?” Niall says confusedly, his eyes lingering on the boy’s hand and the small bird tattoo, “We have to take it.”

Zayn laughs quietly, “No one can make you do anything, Niall. You’ve got to at least keep up the illusion of freewill.”

“What d’you mean?”

The raven-haired boy moves his arm, knocking Niall’s shoulder in the process, and reaches for his pocket, pulling out a tiny handful of pills for only a brief moment.

“You don’t take yours?” the shock in his voice is horrifically embarrassing.

Zayn shakes his head, “Got nasty consequences, these ones—make you feel numb all over. I’d rather be absolutely off my rocker than an emotionless slate like most of the patients in here.”

Niall stares at the beautiful boy beside him in absolute terror, considering what the medication in his bloodstream is doing to him and what it will be like to be completely numb. He gets that feeling again like the ground is about to swallow him up and he doesn’t realize he’s sweating until Zayn’s cool fingertips are pressed against his forehead.

“It’s alright, love,” the older boy murmurs, pushing a few shaggy pieces of blonde hair away from his face, “They haven’t got you yet.” He leans in close, so so close, “Nothing to be afraid of quite yet, sweetheart.”

Niall lets out a shaky breath and nods, stuttering over an apology and blushing like a bloody schoolgirl. Zayn laughs quietly and softly brushes his fingers across the blonde’s cheekbone, “I’ll keep you safe, Niall. I will.”

…

[a/n: I know I don’t update this often enough so please don’t hate me too much. I have a tendency to overwhelm myself with stories and homework and it’s entirely my fault, really. But anyway I hope you like this! And I wanted to let you that this gets a little scary (not really, but). Anyway, please leave me a comment I would love to hear from you!]