it echoes through

seventeen; 'till death do us part

It must've been four, maybe five in the morning, when Sam managed to drag you into his car and make his way back home. You came to him only ten minutes earlier, saying you were in unbelievable pain--and Tom was in trouble.

Sam was quick to pull up the security cameras from the house, and after flicking through every single one, he finally saw the view from the fountain (the woman hid a camera in her outstretched hand) and Tom was in trouble. The night vision function of the camera wasn't great--Sam made a mental note to upgrade that--but given what you were feeling, and the little you could see, it was clear to them they all had to rush home.

Your eyes were glued to Sam's phone, watching it all unravel--until at one point you couldn't look anymore.

"Oi, Y/N," Sam said frantically, dividing his attention between you and the road, "Y/N?!"

Sam knew better than to look at his phone while driving, but when all you could do was simply groan out in pain, he had to grab the phone from your limp hands and look. He placed the device on the dashboard, flicking his gaze between the screen and the road--following Harry's car.

"Holy fuck," Harry gasped, as he took in the scene in front of him. Blood everywhere, spilling into the water, originating from a body neglected on the dirt.

"Haz is here," Clarissa gasped after she winched from the sight of the violent scene, "he's in the house!"

The pair ran inside as Sam slowly hoisted you out of his car. Caitlyn simply stood frozen to her spot.

"Cait, you okay?" Sam asked, side stepping the body plainly.

"That's Melody," she rasped.

"Yeah, reckon they came up here to hurt Tom."

"Is Skyla here, too?"

The second Tom saw your face, and the way you leaned on Sam, he reached out his hand for you. "Come here."

You somehow managed to push through the pain burning at your skull and at your sides and the ache in your stomach, and slipped your hand into Tom's. As soon as you touched, you let out a sigh of relief. Tom was still breathing heavily, trying his best to blink the pain away--but he still couldn't sit upright for too long, and all of you watched as he laid across the sofa, now clearly stained by his blood and the gin they managed to spill everywhere.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, as around you Harrison was giving out hugs to everyone, "I didn't want you to feel it but it was too hard to--"

"Shhh," you begged of him, "you're okay now?"

"I'm fine, Haz saved my ass," at that everyone fell silent.

You turned around to meet Harrison's eyes, and when they locked with yours, a timid smile took over his face, one you knew to mean he was uncomfortable by the attention on him--everyone's mouths slightly ajar. Harrison saw the question in their eyes, could hear it from the inside of their throats, and so he spoke up.

"I had a lot of time to think while I was away," he sat down on the sofa by Tom's legs, Clarissa quick to sit by him, "about my life with you guys. How Tom gave me a job, and a house. A home. How I get to live with my best friends and how you're all the brothers I never got to have." Harrison sighed. "I realise I've made mistakes too, and I'm sorry," he turned to you, "I'm sorry that I kissed you and that I lost my head and that I didn't tell you I knew, and..."

Harrison stopped when Clarissa pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling at her slightly before he turned back to the group. "Anyway, we need to get you suits."

"For what?" The twins asked.

"Groomsmen."

*