Patterns of Blues

Chapter 13

Harry picked at his nails for the entire car ride to the group home Ms. Claire had told them about. He'd like to say he was scared, nervous at least, but after he said goodbye to Niall, he hadn't felt any real emotions outside of general misery. Niall didn't leave them willingly, bless him, screaming and kicking the whole way out of the hospital. It killed Harry to have to stand there and watch his brother get dragged off, so helpless and afraid, but Liam held him in place so he couldn't assist the blond-haired boy. For some reason, the two older boys switched their roles from earlier that afternoon; Harry was about ready to beat anyone up for Niall, and Liam was trying to keep him settled.

Now he was staring out the car window, everything pitch black outside from the street's lampposts that flashed past them every few seconds. The longest day of his life was finally drifting off into a new one, full of frightening possibilities, yet somehow he wasn't afraid. Not for himself, at least. He was worried for Niall more than anything, having never been away from him overnight. Still not fully comprehending what his baby brother had gone through that morning, Harry snuggled back in his seat and glanced over at Liam who was wide awake as well, eyes staring straight ahead and hands folded casually in his lap, one forefinger tapping the other idly. He let out a small sigh, which instantly caught his brother's attention, brown gaze snapping over,

"You okay?" he whispered, voice strained with exhaustion. Harry shrugged in response before nodding once,

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm alright, Haz," Liam replied, still studying his face closely. Harry nodded again, eyes returning to the window and body slumping down a bit. "Niall's going to be fine too," Liam added, voice a bit softer.

"He better be, or else I'll end up hurting someone," Harry grumbled, meaning every word of it. Naturally, he wasn't a very violent person, but if someone threatened either of his brothers' safety, he wouldn't hesitate in losing his cool. Liam shifted from beside him, tossing an uneasy look in the direction of Ms. Claire, who was driving in silence, though was probably listening to their every word,

"Harry, you can't say stuff like that."

"I mean it though," Harry continued unbashfully, straightening his posture, "if I hear one of those foster parents lay a hand on him, I'll do stuff."

"Alright, and I'll join you too," Liam murmered, "but we have to believe he's alright unless we hear something different. It's not a good look for foster kids to say stuff like that."

"Foster kids? Is that what we are now?" Harry scoffed, irritability growing by the second, "Yeah, yeah. You're right, I heard her use the term 'Wards of the State', doesn't sound much nicer to me."

"Well, Greg's parental rights aren't terminated yet, so I don't think we belong to the State exactly."

"I'd rather be State property than a human punching bag," Harry decided, tossing in an unamused laugh, "Life's already screwed up and I'm only eleven."

"Harry, you need to calm down a bit," Liam whispered, eyeing Ms. Claire again, "I don't need you getting in trouble so soon."

"I don't care, Liam," he shot back, whisper-yelling, "let her shout at me. I don't care anymore." Then was Liam's turn to sigh, dragging his gaze from Harry back to his lap,

"I get that you're upset, but you're making this much more difficult than necessary."

"And you don't care enough," he accused, jabbing a finger in his direction, "Ni was just freaking raped, taken away against his will, and is being forced to live with some strangers without us, all while you're twiddling your thumbs."