Walking In the Wind // 1D AU ✓

Chapter 8

~But it's not the end,

I'll see your face again~

AUGUST 5TH

After it was clear that Harry wasn't going to be saying much of anything about what had happened that day, or technically the day before as the time crept closer to midnight, Zayn decided that it was prudent to call Simon. He answered almost immediately, with a million questions coming out of his mouth. "What happened? Are you all okay?"

He had no idea what to say to that - he himself was feeling woozy, while Niall needed an ice bath and Harry a therapist and a hug from Louis. So he stuck to the facts. "We are all alive. We need new plane tickets. Harry, nearest airport."

"I'm going there," Harry snapped, probably onto the anger stage of whatever he was working through.

"What happened?" Simon asked again.

"We need to come home. Make sure Louis picks us up." Zayn promptly ended the call, and Niall scoffed. "I could've explained everything, yes, but it'll be better when we're in person."

There was silence as Harry drove, and the lights blurred together as Niall looked out the window, mocking Zayn under his breath. They parked the car a couple blocks away from the airport and then walked in. He had had the insight to go back to the hotel for their things, most likely when his thoughts were coming back to him again.

So they walked up to the ticket booths and the machine spit out the pieces of paper that the needed to get onto the plane. Niall was fidgety, as he always was around security, and they all knew that the guards would be staring at them a little more suspiciously with the bruises and the dark blood on Zayn's black pants. Hopefully it wasn't too obvious.

"Sleeping pills?" Harry questioned, stopping past a booth as they got past security. Zayn silently shook his head. "Over your fear?"

"He's going to crash," Niall noted. "So am I, and so are you. We'll wake up at Heathrow and we'll be back into relative safety." There was an hour before boarding, and he kept talking as they sat down with their respective carry-on bags. "Are we going to talk about what happened today? It wasn't cool to abandon us, Harry."

"I know," Curly crossed his arms. "Please, stop talking, Niall."

There was an uncomfortable tension between the three of them that made them quiet. It was a wonderous thing that Simon had gotten three tickets so quickly, and with them right next to each other. Zayn got the middle seat, and immediately rested his head on the tray in front of them and was asleep before the flight took off. True to Niall's prediction, the other two were also out like a light within moments.

After a couple of hours, Zayn woke with a start after a rush of air came from his left. Sitting up, he saw Harry zip around the row that they were in and make a mad dash for the bathroom, hands clasped around his mouth. He didn't look green, like some people are said to be before they throw up, but it was clear that he was going to do. Throwing up the tray that he had been resting his head on, he jumped up and ran after his friend.