- PART FIFTEEN -

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.: PART FIFTEEN :.

The heart-shaped locket feels cold between Louis's nimble fingers.  He fumbles with the latch for a minute or two, soothed by its repetitive click.  His heart beats heavily in his chest.  He feels on edge, as if he's standing on crumbling rocks at the top of a cliff.  Like the weakest of breezes could push him over.

    To his left, his mother sits in a blue chair with a clipboard in her lap.  She scribbles Louis's name and date of birth on the patient form.  She accidentally smudges the blue ink as she drags her hand, but she doesn't notice.  Louis does, however, because he notices everything.

    Jay bites her lip.  The fabric of her pink shirt curves around her bulging belly.  She looks like she's on the verge of tears, but he doesn't dare say anything about it. He's already hurt her enough.

    Louis glances around the waiting room.  A fish tank rests in the corner, bubbles filtering through the water.  Artificial seaweed wiggles at the bottom, resting on a layer of rainbow pebbles. The fish bob around mindlessly, some staring at their own reflections in the glass.

Across the room, a young boy plays with a toy car.  His tiny lips purr like an engine as he rolls it across the carpet.  Louis thinks back to his childhood, how it was so much easier.  He wishes he could go back in time.

    Jay signs the bottom of the form, dotting the 'i' in Tomlinson with a heart.  "I have return this to the front desk," she says and clicks her pen.  Although she tries to sound cheerful, Louis can sense the dread in her voice.  "I'll be right back, okay?"

    Louis only nods in response.  He watches as Jay paces across the waiting room to the desk, sliding the clipboard to the white-haired lady behind the counter.  Louis buries his head in his hands, staring into the darkness of his palms.  He knows Jay returns when he hears her heels tapping on the floors.

    "Darling," Jay soothes, rubbing her son's back.  He doesn't look up.  "It's alright.  No need for tears, yeah?"

    Louis shakes his head stubbornly.  "No.  It's not alright," he sniffles.  "Nothing's alright."

    Jay sighs.  "It'll get better.  I promise."

They've only been in the states for a little over a week now, and it's already taken a toll on Louis's well-being.  He's absolutely miserable, both mentally and physically.  He hates his new school and hasn't made new friends, despite the lies he tells his mother.  Maybe he doesn't want to meet new friends, deep down.  He only wants Harry, and it hurts like hell to want someone you can't have.

    To be honest, the only good aspect of New York is Jay's new job.  She enjoys the hospital's quick pace and high-paying salary.  But so far, everything else is proving to be terrible.  Their apartment is an absolute pigsty, complete with broken water pipes and mold infestations.  Louis wants to go back home to England, he really does, but— but he just can't.  He doesn't want to be selfish, so he pretends like nothing is wrong.  That it's just the PTSD.  That Jay has nothing to worry about.

She does, though.  She has a lot to worry about.

    "We'll get you checked out, sweetheart," Jay assures with a soft smile.  It's transparent, though, and Louis can see the fear behind her eyes. 

    Louis gulps nervously.  "What if they say I'm crazy?"

    Jay shakes her head.  "Dr. Robinson referred us here.  They know all your background information.  It's just a mental checkup, alright?"

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