Missing [ST]

Forty Seven

Sixth of April: 06:48 am

Although Leah was held in custody for the night, it was really just for her safety. She had no charges against her, and all that was required from her was a couple of signatures which, in return, she received food that she barely touched.

As expected, she hadn't seen the guys since she arrived at the station, but after much nagging, she found out they had yet to be charged with anything. They were held in custody, and apparently awaiting Will to collect his evidence for interviews.

There was no news on Steven's condition.

Leah hadn't slept because she quite simply couldn't. There was just a constant buzzing of doors or jangling of keys and locks. All kinds of security shit disturbed the silence, and her bed was extremely uncomfortable.

So, when an officer released her from her holding cell and guided her through to the main reception, the last thing she expected was to see her parents leap up from their seats when she hadn't even made a phone call.

"Oh, Leah my darling girl!"

Leah was so thrown, she almost lost her balance being battled in a hug by her mum. She barely had the time to adjust her feet, since they were glued to the spot, but her father's hand appearing on her back was enough to encourage her to sink into her mother's tight embrace.

"Mon petit biquet," Louis mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.

Leah managed a glance, finding the tired eyes of her father almost twinkling down at her. 'My little lamb' had been her nickname since she was small, but this time, it felt weighted with so much more than just love.

Warm hands cupped her face.

"Are you okay? We've been so worried- are you hurt? What hap-"

"Mum, I'm fine. It's just a graze," Leah interrupted gently, holding the fingers that slid over the stitches.

Green eyes plagued with concern darted all over her face, but her mum gave a watery smile in understanding and wiped her escaping tears with the sides of her index fingers. The greying streaks at the front of her hair seemed more silvery than before.

"Are you hungry?" Zara reached for her arm, clearly trying to hold her voice steady. "We can get some breakfast?"

A frown pinched in its usual place as Leah looked between her parents.

"Where's Jake?" she asked, the realisation of his absence kicking in. "Is he...here?"

If the horrible silence wasn't a sufficient answer, then the pained expressions that refused to tell and threat of tears were.

Leah couldn't breathe, and a harsh lump rose in her throat that she couldn't swallow down.

"M-Mum? Where's-"

But the green eyes were squeezed shut, and a shaking hand flew over her mother's mouth to muffle her sobs.

Leah took a wobbly step back, disorientated with air, and just about saw the tall figure of her father move over to comfort through her blurring eyes.

"I-I need to...I-some air."

"Leah! Wait!"

She jerked away from the hand that tried to grab her wrist, and drew in a deep breath.

"Let me go," she said sternly, staring down the desperation in her father's eyes.

It was always Louis' weakness when she acted bitter to mask the truth. The instinct to not let her go never failed to soften when she kept the stiff upper lip and bit back the surge of hurt on her tongue. He would follow because he always did, but he always, always, let her go first.