Stand By Me ~Zouis Family

Twenty-One

The beginning of this chapter could be mildly triggering.

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“Is it my fault?”

Zayn spun around to see Harry standing in the doorway of his, or rather thespare bedroom. He looked tired and anxious, by this point the bruises on his face were completely gone, faded into his pale skin.

“Is what your fault?” Zayn asked raising an eyebrow.

“This,” Harry gestured around the slightly unkempt room, “You and Dad not sleeping in the same bed, or talking to each other, and the fighting, and the way you’re hardly ever home... Am I destroying our family?” Harry’s voice was loud and shaky as he reached a speaking pace that Zayn had slight trouble keeping up with.

“Harry...” 

Honestly, Zayn didn’t know what to say, he was completely stunned by the revelation; of course it wasn’t true, but the fact that Harry could even consider the possibility was just completely overwhelming and he felt bile rise in his throat because how did everything get this bad?

“Harry...” He repeated again, he couldn’t find any words for the situation, he couldn’t form a sentence he was just blank. He felt like an entire fuck up, he’d not been able to protect his son, he was hurting his husband and now he was watching Harry fall apart in front of his very eyes.

And fall apart he did, Harry’s entire face scrunched up and he fell to the ground his throat releasing a strangled scream before he began to cry loud, body shaking sobs anyone would have thought Zayn was beating him with a crowbar. This was worse than Zayn had ever seen Harry react before, it was like the thought of hurting his family was more unbearable than anything he’d ever experienced and Zayn could feel his heart shattering in his very chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Harry was chanting over and over and Zayn’s body finally decided to respond to him and he scooped the hysterical teenager into his arms, rocking him like a baby, a lanky, sixteen year old baby.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay it’s not your fault; none of this is.” Zayn soothed, continuing to rock Harry gently side to side as he gently set the boy on the freshly made bed and lying down next to him.

Harry didn’t respond, he just squeezed his eyes shut and tried to quieten his cries, he was so scared of everything right now and he just didn’t know how to control all of his emotions. He wasn’t crying souly because of his parents, he was crying about everything from Mr. Campbell to moving towns to letting Niall get lost... He was so tired. He was tired of hurting, of bottling up all of his emotions and pretending he was fine.

Because he wasn’t.

He was walking around in a semi-daydream, days seemed to blur into one big long drawn out routine, wake up, eat, exist, sleep and then the next day, start all over again. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. He’d be free from the pain and stress and the fear and everything in between.

Harry had occasionally thought about offing himself. The thought occurred everyday, but he wasn’t even able to do that. He knew that it was selfish to escape all of his problems in such a permanent and irreversible way and leave his parents to deal with not only his death, but everything else on top.

He sometimes didn’t care so much about what it’d do to Louis and Zayn, but more to what it’d do to Niall if by chance he was the one to find him. Maybe he’d have come up to tell Harry that dinner was ready and find him bleeding to death on the bathroom floor or hanging from the ceiling fan. He didn’t want to scar him in such a way. He’d wonder sometimes what’d happen if Liam were to find him, if he’d understand that Harry was dead, or whether he’d think he was just playing around. Harry didn’t know how Liam thought about things.