Smoke and Mirrors || Zianourry Niall-centric

~ EPILOGUE ~

Niall stayed in the hospital for a few days, just until he felt safe enough to stand up. Physically, he was wrapped in bandages that tightly hugged him. As for his mental state, the trauma lives on.

"'Ma?" He says into his phone, licking his lips.

"Are you okay?!" She shrieks. "I was informed by the hospital you were there and your father and I were about to hop on the next flight."

The blond smiles faintly, seeing the compassion from his mom. "I'm fine for now, 'ma. You don't have to come here."

"What happened, darling?" She says, softly. "I tried calling your mates, but none of them answered as well."

"It's," he breathes, "A long story. Something I can't tell you right now, but in a couple years from now."

There was a pause. "What does that mean?"

"That someday, I'll be able to laugh about the situation I've been in and see it as one of the 'cringy memories from high school.'"

Niall's mother proceeded to be full of confusion, asking questions revolving her son hitting his head and being ill. She wasn't too far off being wrong, but the story was to be told another day.

•

The Irishman rolled his luggage behind him as he exits the house that caused him his troubles. He felt much more relaxed being outside. The air was crisp at 10 in the morning. A feeling he adored compared to the thick rays of the sun.

The rest of the boys were at the end of the lawn, there to wish Niall farewell, turning around to the wheels that sounded on the gravel.

Louis approached him cautiously, keeping his distance just in case. "See you soon?" He questions, tone full of worry and fear of rejection. "It's okay if you don't really, but-" The brunette ushers quickly.

"Louis..." Niall says in a gentle tone. "For sure I'll see you again. I won't disappear and neither will you. It's just going to take time."

The Doncaster man only nods in a rapid motion, trying to shake the brim of tears, moving aside to the other presences.

Harry, Zayn, and Liam were distances away, none of them having the will to talk to him. Niall understood from their perspective, he accepted it and didn't want to make a fuss. It wasn't necessary to his life, as long as they were getting the help they were going to get.

A honk made all them jump at the car approaching. The man from the Uber said his name, their name, and opened the trunk, taking the Irishman's luggage.

"Do you need more time?" The driver said, being used to separations.

Niall took a deep breath, about to shake his head before a strong grip grabbed his wrist, immediately making him turn around and flinch back.

"I-I'm sorry," Liam says, rubbing his neck. "I just wanted to let you know, we made appointments. We're seeing shrink, we've been accepted to a rehabilitation house, it's there, Niall. We're getting the help that's far too late."

This made Niall's heart calm down again. He was almost feeling emotional hearing this news. The blond nodded at Liam, giving a small smile.

"Thank you," he whispers.

"No need to thank us, we need it and once we're fixed, once that happens, who knows when, we'll let you know. Please go live the life you need and don't worry about us if you were considering."

At that, Niall patted Liam's shoulder and turned around to the vehicle. He was on his way to Ireland, now knowing when he'll be back, but feeling relief at a new path to his existence.

•

Three years have passed. Niall was sitting under the skies of London, feeling nostalgic at the buildings. His weight and body was now healthy after a process.

He walks into a small cafe, ordering a coffee and staring out the window until he saw four men walk inside. They stood in front of him, appearances different, almost not recognizable to the Irishman.

Niall, still sitting, moved his coffee aside to stick out his hand.

"My name is Niall. Twenty-three year old, from Ireland, but I'm pretty sure you could tell," he chuckles.

They can't forget about what has happened, but they also can't apologize endlessly to make things better.