Coalesce

FIFTEEN

Warning for brief, non-descriptive mentions of past self-harm.

Liam finds that the one thing he can't do that night is sleep. After Louis and Zayn had come home with Niall, it's all he's been able to think about. He's never seen Niall not smiling or trying to make other people smile; but when they'd come through that door, he'd been a picture of pure sadness, all tear-stained and shivery, barely half-conscious.

Dad and Papa — no, Louis and Papa — had quickly herded Niall off to his bedroom and he'd been treated like he's the same age as Harry and told to simply 'not worry about it'. Right, like he can just switch it off.

Because Niall's his brother now, every bit as much as Harry is, so of course he's gonna worry when somethings wrong with him. He'd heard him sobbing for hours after, heard their parents murmuring in low voices in the hall before eventually retiring to their room after checking that Harry was asleep.

And Liam just lays there, staring up at the ceiling for as long as his busy mind can bear before kicking back the covers with a huff and rolling out of bed. Because this is what Niall would do, right? If Liam was hurting or upset or anything short of okay, he'd be hovering outside of his door and asking to come in even though he'd know that the older boys first reaction would be to yell at him. He'd be there anyway.

So that's where Liam finds himself, there. Outside of Niall's bedroom door, hand raised to knock gently. He holds his breath and waits, opening the door before he even gets any reply.

The lights are out but the room remains dimly lit from the still-white sky outside. It's just light enough to see that Niall is awake, rolled over to face the glass wall, eyes half lidded and watching fresh snowflakes flutter by. It's as if he doesn't even realise that Liam is there until the older boy sits on the end of the bed, pulling one leg up to cross under the other that hangs off the high mattress.

Niall jumps a little, glancing over his shoulder and then moving to sit up, eyeing Liam in confusion. "Oh — are — are you okay? I...didn't hear you come in."

Liam scoffs at that. "Am I okay? You're an idiot, you know that?"

The fourteen year old looks even more confused at that, blinking. He coughs into his elbows a few times before speaking. "Oh. Um, I'm sorry? Did — did I do something or —"

"No, Ni. Jesus, are you gonna make me actually say it?" He asks, huffing when Niall just stares at him. "I'm worried about you, dumbass. You just disappeared and then Dad and Papa drag you back in almost frozen to death...and I care about you or whatever so — are you okay?"

Niall doesn't say anything for a moment and Liam begins to think he's only gonna get blank stares for the remainder of this one-sided conversation. But it gets worse, because to his complete and total horror, the younger boy's eyes get all glassy and his lower jaw wobbles a little.

"Shoot," he mutters to himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come and butt in, do you need me to get your Dad, or —"

Niall shakes his head quickly and lifts his hand to wipe his sleeve across his eyes, forcing a fragile smile. "No, I'm sorry, I'm — I'm just not," his voice cracks and he looks down at his lap for a second, swallowing hard. "Not okay, I guess. I dunno. Guess you were right, about pretending and stuff."

It's Liam's turn to blink at him then, taken by surprise with the sudden honesty. Then he just feels bad for the kid, because he'd much rather have just been wrong about him pretending to be happy than for it to actually be the truth.

He shakes his head, hands wrapped around his own ankle pulled up onto the bed. "Scotty didn't really leave you alone, did he?" He asks, scowling when Niall shakes his head. "That piece of shit. I'll —"