Breaking Away

Seventeen

Zayn flips the page on the last paper in his pile of marking that he's currently trying to get through, rubbing his weary eyes in an attempt to un-blur his vision.

He's currently alone in Niall's room — well, alone on Niall's side of the room, the other side is sectioned off by the curtain again but he's trying to forget that half exists, blocking out the side of teenaged giggles and whispers.

Niall is in PT with Tom, and as much as Zayn is thankful for the alone time that's allowing him to get ahead on some of his way overdue marking that his students have been hounding him for, he can't help but think that he's needed more at home today.

It's not that he doesn't want to be here with Ni — not at all. He adores spending time with the kid, and lord knows the thirteen year old spends far too much time alone in this place as it is, it's just that he hadn't felt as though leaving the house this morning was the best choice, he's needed more there at the moment.

Louis' sick as a dog, the poor kid. He's been up all night hacking up a storm, running a sky-high fever. Zayn spent the whole night trying to cool the kid down, and when Liam came home this morning after working a night shift, he was more than exhausted himself. He just didn't feel right, leaving his sleep-deprived husband alone to take care of their sick kid.

Of course, he knows that if he'd stayed, he would've felt terrible about leaving Niall here by himself again.

He just feels stuck between two halves of the same whole. It's been so long since all of them were together; one strong family unit. He doesn't even remember the last time he and Liam spent more than a passing hour with one another — the time that they do manage to catch is always good but so fleeting.

They'd spent the past weekend Christmas shopping together, and it'd only reminded him exactly how much he's missing his husband despite not being entirely away from him.

He just wishes Niall would give home-leave some proper thought. At least that way, they can all be together again; especially at Christmas, he hates the idea of them spending the day in this damned room.

Of course, he knows it isn't as easy as simply leaving the hospital for Niall. He's been here for six months, the idea of the kid coming home is nerve-wracking for all of them, Niall most of all...

He sighs, pushing his marking aside and slumping down in the armchair next to his son's empty bed, rubbing his hand down his face and pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. He feels guilty for wishing he could be at home right now. Niall needs him too; he'd never choose one of his kids over the other —

The door swings open and takes him by surprise. He jumps a little, glancing down at the watch on his wrist and finding that he really hasn't lost track of time; Niall has finished PT way earlier than expected.

That surprise turns into concern when Tom pushes Niall's chair into the room and the boy makes no complaints. In fact, he doesn't even seem to be aware; his skin is pale and clammy, head bowed down and eyes squeezed shut, his hands squeezing the top of his thighs, clutching at the material of his trousers in a white-knuckled grip.

"Ni? You okay, kiddo?" He asks immediately, earning no response from the boy other than heavy breathing. Zayn stands from the chair and eyes the physiotherapist in confusion. "What's the matter? He was fine before he left," he says.

Tom presses his lips together, wheeling Niall up to his bed and then lifting him across as Zayn pulls back the covers. Again, Niall makes no complaint, just allows it to happen.

"Kid decided it was a good idea not to tell anyone his legs have been cramping all night. We barely got five minutes into work before he was seizing up again," Tom tells him with a sigh, wincing as Niall's breathing picks up and he curls his legs up into himself, squeezing at his thighs still. "He's taking a few days off, no arguments. He needs to take it easy for a while."