Take Me Home

Chapter Twenty-Two

"When did this start, baby?" Liam asked, sitting on the bed beside the curly haired boy. He was avoiding looking at the specks of dried blood that were staining the duvet slightly, reminding himself to strip and wash the bed as soon as he could.

When Harry had finally stopped crying so harshly, Zayn had convinced them all to go back to his room so they could clean and patch up his arms. Though it made both men feel sick to see all of the self-inflicted damage on the boy's already scarred arms, they were relieved that none of the cuts were too deep, or infected. Now Zayn was wrapping his wrists in gauze, eyes cloudy from crying himself.

Harry kept his gaze down. He shrugged. "Few weeks," he murmured, his voice so shaky from sobbing that Liam felt his heart practically break in pain.

"Why, buddy? You could've come to us, you know that?" Zayn offered, his voice so soft and gentle that two more tears rolled over Harry's cheeks.

"M'sorry," he whispered.

Liam took his hand gently as Zayn shook his head. "Don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? We're gonna fix this, all of us," he said, firmly, determined. Despite the harsher tone, it made Harry feel reassured. Almost safe, for a moment.

That moment passed quickly because Harry seemed to remember something, eyes widening in guilt. "Is Lou okay?" he asked, sniffing.

Zayn smiled sadly at the boy. Of course he would be worrying about everyone other than himself at a time like this. "Louis will be fine. He and Niall are just downstairs watching a movie together right now, bud. Let's just focus on you right now, hm?" he said, chewing his lip when Harry looked down at his hands with a defeated expression.

"Baby, why'd you do all this?" Liam asked, reaching out to brush the curls away from the boy's forehead. Then a sickening thought occurred to him. "It...It's not because of moving here, is it? Because -"

"No, Liam. I promise, it's not. I don't want to talk about it, please don't make me," he pleaded, brows furrowed as his voice tightened with the effort of holding back a sob.

"Okay, sweetie, okay," he murmured to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and rubbing his arm gently, pressing a kiss to his temple. Harry allowed himself to melt into the mans chest, yawning.

"We do need to talk about this at some point, Haz," Zayn sighed. They couldn't just leave it, this was a serious thing.

Harry looked up at him with worry written on his features. "Are you mad at me?" he asked, bottom lip trembling.

Zayn almost cried again at that. Harry sounded so vulnerable and childish. The boy was growing up but he would always be that innocent little kid he had first laid eyes on in the hospital six years ago. He looked exhausted right now, eyes tired and watery, face pale and flushed from crying, lips swollen from sobbing. His arms wrapped in white.

"Course not, bud. Never, okay? I just need you to know that this isn't healthy. We need to get to the bottom of this so we can fix it, make everything better again, hm?" He asked, his heart thudding as the boy gave him a look that told him he didn't believe that anything was ever going to be okay again. "Maybe we should take you to the GP tomorrow, yeah?" he asked gently.

Harry tensed up at that, eyes welling up as a sob tore through him. "You want me to get sent away, don't you? You don't want me anymore," he cried, and Zayn quickly shook his head.

"No buddy, we love you so much, okay? We want you right here with us, always. You got that?" he said.

Harry continued to cry into Liam's shirt and the man shushed him gently, comforting him again. It was all the two men could do to wait until the teen had cried himself out and drifted into a light sleep again Liam's shirt. Liam stayed with him, keeping ahold of him and curling up around him on the bed. Zayn excused himself to go and get the two younger boys ready for bed.