Ziall - Fix you

Chapter 6 - Coming home

A/N, sorry,  this chapter is mainly babble and pointless, but the next chapter will probably be pretty sad, hopefully.

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~o~

Zayn's POV

The base had arranged a flight for all the soldiers who were being sent home easily, and the flight was only two hours after we’d got back.

I’d packed all the things I wanted to take home, sacrificing a few things, just so I could take home some of Maz’s things with me, for a couple more things to remember him by, other than the few pictures I have of him.

The flight was awful; I stared out the window for the while four hours, uncomfortable in my uniform, whilst I was sat next to one of the people I'd got stranded with, only we didn’t speak. I don’t think any of us would be ready to speak for a long time.

I'd imagined going home sat next to Maz.

I'd been in first class, which was a nice thing to be given, especially since it gave me more leg room for my sprained ankle. I could still walk on it, but it was more like a limp, and it was pretty swollen, it only just fit into my boot. I also had my arm in a cast, with a broken elbow. I had cuts all over my face, arms, legs and torso, along with bruises. I must have looked a mess.

**

There was a taxi waiting for me, it had probably been sent by my mum or something. I put my small case in the boot and got into the front, without the driver saying a word he set off. 

It was a long ride, completely in silence. It made me seem mad, but I'd kept hold of a piece of rough string in my hands since they sent us off, and I twisted it around and over my fingers repeatedly, unblinkingly watching the road.

The driver’s eyes kept drifting over to me, to my hands, to my uniform, to my injuries, maybe I intimidated him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t speak to me, I must look pretty scary, in an army uniform, many injuries and acting like a mad person.

**

The man pulled up at my house and handed me my case quickly, and left without a word. Odd. He didn’t even ask for money. My mum or dad probably gave it to him when they sent the taxi for me.

No one was outside the house waiting to greet me, the hold me and let me cry. I guess I had to get on alone again, just like I had done for the past four months. Way to make me feel safe after all I’d been through.

I wonder if Maz’s family had cared when they found out he was dead. I wonder if they’d turn up at the funeral, I was going to invite them, I knew the address since Maz had given it to me so we could communicate once we’d finished the army…

Just I started to walk up the path, dragged my suitcase behind me, I saw movement behind the morphed window in the door. Shadows of people; and murmurs from them on the inside.

I was about to knock on the door as the door was flung open, and my mum and dad were stood in the doorway, the boys and my sisters behind them, and Niall jumping up and down at the back to get a view of me. They had all been shouting to each other to get to the front, but once I was stood there staring at them blankly, they fell silent. It was like I was the last toy on the shelf, and they were fighting over who was to get me first, what was wrong with them? I drew my suitcase up beside me and secretly twisted the string again in one hand by my side.

'I’ll get your bag Zayn!' Waliyha squealed, and ran at my bag, knocking me to the side.

All of a sudden, all of them were all crowded around me, asking me things, shouting things, saying things, all mixed into one to make a giant blur of sound. I spun around helplessly on my heel, looking at all of them, until it was too much. Claustrophobia took over, and I screamed at them. I told them to stop. That shut them up.

‘Just… Just stop!’ I said quietly, quieter than a whisper, gnawing on my bottom lip, and breaking through the circle, and running up to my old room.

**

Niall’s POV

We all stood in silence. We had all thought he’d be happy to see us all, would laugh at us, hug us, be like the old Zayn, but he wasn’t. He looked… Scared of us. The noise. Maybe being in the army had changed him. Everything he had seen, been through.

‘Do you think one of us should go talk to him?’ Tricia asked hesitantly.

‘I’ll go’ I volunteered, hoping he’ll want to see me, ‘But give him some time alone, I think he wants some, I’ll go up soon’

They all nodded and we made our way back into the lounge. What do I say to him if I go up? I don’t know if it’s the right time ask him about the army, so I’ll rule that that out. Maybe I could ask if he wants to meet up with Maz sometime the week? Or maybe just the simple, ‘are you okay’ and sit with him.

Time passed quickly whilst I was thinking, because Harry was already nudging me to get and leave.

**

‘Zayn?’ I whispered as I opened his bedroom door.

He was curled up on his bed, still in his full uniform, even his boots were still strapped to his feet. I wandered over to his bed and sat on the edge, leaning against his back. I leant over, and fiddled with his hair soothingly. His eyes stayed shut, and my face expressionless.

‘Are you okay?’

That opened his eyes. They snapped open and stared at me, although he didn’t move his body in any way. I pulled my legs up onto the bed and crossed them, and lifted Zayn’s curled up body up into my lap.

I untied his shoes carefully, and took them from his feet. Then moved to his tight belt, and took it from his waist, to make him more comfortable. His eyes had closed again, and his breathing slowed into even, slow breaths; he was asleep.

A few hours later, he woke again, after I’d moved to sit up against the head board, and kept him in my arms. He sprung up, and fell from the bed in a matter of seconds.

‘Zayn!’ I jumped down from the bed and he put his good hand on the wall, pulling himself up to face me, ‘How are you?’

He didn’t say anything, he just nodded, which didn’t really give me indication to how he was feeling, since he face and eyes were unreadable and clouded.

‘Please say something to me…’ I whimpered, almost like I was begging, ‘Do you want to try calling Maz or something? We could arrange to meet him in a few days-’

‘No’ he said plainly, gritting his teeth, his jaw was set. An expression appeared on his face. It was a cross of anger and despair, had him and Maz fallen out?

‘What?’

‘No, we can’t arrange to meet up with him’

‘W-why not?’

‘Because Marius is dead, Niall’