Take Me Home

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Louis couldn't help but feel left out.

A week later, he woke up to a familiar scene. In the bed next to his, Niall was curled up in Liam's arms after another nightmare, both of them fast asleep. Downstairs, Harry and Zayn were talking in the kitchen, their soft voices reverberating through the walls. Every morning, he would attempt to wake Liam up only to be tiredly swatted away and told to go back to bed, and then he'd go downstairs only to be told that Zayn and Harry were trying to talk and that he could come back down in ten minutes when they were done.

But not today. Today he decided he was going to go and see Cal, or maybe Ashton, from the children's home. Hopefully they wouldn't ignore him. He was getting sick of it.

He didn't know where either of them lived exactly, but he figured he'd find his way. Besides, once he had his jeans and jacket on and his shoes were laced up, he figured it was too late to go back. The fact that nobody noticed him slipping out of the front door only made him more certain that they didn't want him there, and so he started walking.

As he walked along, the small seven year old began to kick random stones and mumble underneath his breath.

"Stupid Liam, stupid Zayn. Stupid me for calling them Dad and Papa. Stupid Harry and stupid Niall," he mumbled.

Of course, he wasn't really mad at the two boys whom he called brothers now. He knew that Harry was still sick and he probably would be for a long time, even though he was smiling more the last few days - but he never got a look in with his Zaynie - his Papa - anymore, and so he blamed his older brother for that.

And he still loved Niall too, he understood that he was still having nightmares, even if he didn't wake up screaming every night. He could tell by the tired eyes and the way he hadn't even shouted once the past week, just been all mushy and clingy, always choosing to sit by Louis at school and almost fall asleep leaning against him on the playground - even when they were standing up. But he missed his Liam - his Dad - waking him up gently every morning and so he blamed his brother for that.

Mostly, he was mad at his parents - or his carers - or whatever it was he should call them. Right now, he didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was finding somebody who wouldn't ignore him for a couple of hours.

However, somewhere in his musings, he seemed to take a random turn and suddenly he was on a street full of people, completely lost.

Trying not to panic, Louis looked through the crowds of people rushing around to get to where they needed to be and tried to spot a familiar face. When that didn't work, he decided to try and push through and find somewhere familiar. But, he couldn't move easily.

He knew he wasn't claustrophobic like Ni, and he even liked small places because they made him feel safe. But being pushed around by all those people was more than enough to make him panic. He felt his eyes prick with tears and his breathing grow heavy as he tried to push past a group of men in business suits. Then somebody grabbed him and he started to cry a little harder, terrified that he was going to be lost forever, or that maybe that Keith that Niall was so scared of had gotten him.

He didn't even calm down when he saw that it was a lady with kind eyes and a baby on her hip that had caught his arm.

"Sweetheart, where are your parents?" she asked. Louis stared at her for a second before he yanked his arm out of her grip and ran as fast and far as he could.

He couldn't see much through the tears, which was probably why he didn't see the edge of the curb until he twisted his ankle on it. He stopped running and saw that he was on a much emptier street now, filled with dingy houses and worn fences, somewhere else that he didn't remember seeing before. His eyes were still crying, his nose was running, his lungs were wheezing from running so hard and his ankle was throbbing too much to carry on running.