Thirty Eight

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TW: MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT

"What if I dyed my hair pink?" Niall randomly asks Justin, spinning in circles in his desk chair. It's a Saturday, so technically the office is closed, but Zayn said something about needing to make some work calls, so Justin and Niall went to the office with him. Being apart from him so soon after he made his way back home feels wrong and uncomfortable.

Justin looks up from where he's flipping through paperwork. "You want to dye your hair, sweetheart?"

Niall shrugs, stopping his spinning because he's starting to get dizzy. "Dunno. It was just a thought. Kind of impulsive, I know."

Justin cocks his head, just watching Niall as he chews on his lip and plays with the hem of his skirt. Justin pushes back from his desk and pats his lap. "Come here, Ni." Niall goes happily, curling up in Justin's lap and leaning his head against Justin's shoulder. "Baby, if you want to dye your hair pink, go nuts. I think it'd be cute." He kisses the top of Niall's head. "Zayn did it once."

Niall snaps his head up. "No way! Did he really?"

"Yeah, a few years back. I think I've got a picture still." Justin grabbed his phone off his desk and scrolled through his photos, finding the one he had in mind. "See? Pink hair. It was hot, I kinda miss it."

"You miss what?" Zayn asks as he walks into Justin's office. Niall hops off of Justin's lap to hug him.

"Your pink hair," Justin explains. "Niall mentioned wanting to dye his hair pink, so I was finding pictures of when you dyed yours. Remember?" Justin hands his phone over to Zayn, and Zayn's face softens. He's piggybacking Justin in the photo, who's making a ridiculous face at the camera while Zayn laughs. Zayn swipes to the next picture, one where Justin was trying to braid Zayn's hair though it certainly wasn't long enough, when a notification pops up on the screen.

Unknown (10:05am): If I can't have Zayn, then I'll have you. Meet me at Starbucks downtown at 1pm. [4 images attached]

"Zayn? What's wrong?" Niall asks. He can feel that Zayn has gone tense, but Zayn is holding Justin's phone at an angle that Niall can't see what he's looking at. "Zee?"

SKIP THIS IF THE TRIGGER APPLIES TO YOU

Zayn knows he shouldn't, but he opens the images. He's not even sure how Alex took these, but he's sent pictures of Zayn from when he was trying to coax him into sleeping with Alex. The last one features Alex with his hand down Zayn's pants, and Zayn actually gags, face going pale.

OKAY YOU'RE GOOD

"Zayn?" Justin asks, standing up to grab his phone out of Zayn's hand. Zayn yanks the phone out of Justin's reach, not wanting him to see the picture, but his intense nausea has made him weak, and Justin gets his phone back with ease. "Oh, Zee," he gasps as soon as he's seen it, but Zayn just shakes his head, stumbling back. He hadn't expected that to happen, hadn't expected the pictures, to have to think about it. His legs fail him before he can leave the room and suddenly he's on the floor, shaking too bad to stand back up. His vision has gone blurry, but then he sees Niall kneeling before him, feels his tiny, cold hands on his cheeks.

"Zee," Niall says, the most firmly Zayn has ever heard him say anything, "I need you to breathe with me." Zayn tries to speak, tries to tell him he can't breathe, that he can't even remember what breathing feels like. "I know," Niall tells him. "I know you think you can't. I know how scary it is, but you gotta do it. Come on, Zee. Justin and I are here, and we love you. We're not going anywhere. Deep breaths." Zayn closes his eyes, trying to figure out how to slow his hyperventilation, and he feels Justin take his hand. He doesn't even have to open his eyes to know that, he would know Justin's touch anywhere, even at the end of the world.

"Hey," Justin says tenderly. He presses Zayn's hand to his chest, just over his heart. "I'm right here." Zayn opens his eyes, sees both of them, and a wave of love hits him so hard he wants to cry. "That's it, Zee. Deep breaths."

Zayn isn't sure how it happens exactly, but the room has stopped spinning, and he feels much less queasy. "Fuck," he gasps out, passing his hands over his face.

"Are you okay?" Niall asks him softly, inching closer. He likes to be held after he's had an anxiety attack but he's not sure how Zayn feels on that. His question is answered a second later when Zayn pulls him into his lap, nuzzling his face into Niall's neck.

"I'm gonna kill him," Justin says. His hands are shaking terribly, but not from anxiety – he's trembling from head to toe with rage. "Zayn, I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him for what he did to you."

"Sit down," Zayn says, but he sounds tired. "No one's killing anybody. Liam took care of it, remember?"

"Clearly not! He just fucking texted you those pictures! Did you forget that happened somehow?"

Pain flickers across Zayn's face. "Justin, I've got it under control."

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I –"

"STOP IT!" Niall shouts over both of them. They both go silent and look over at him in surprise – their sweet, tiny boyfriend in his pink babydoll dress and white thigh highs, cheeks pink with anger. "Stop fighting. Stop it right now."

"Niall –" Justin tries.

"No," Niall says over him. "No, you're not going. You're not going anywhere near Alex, and Zayn, you're not either."

"What are you suggesting?" Zayn asks, confused. He still looks pale, head leaned against the wall.

"Neither of you are going anywhere near him. He'll be expecting you, and he wants to hurt you. So it can't be either of you." Niall takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. "So it has to be me. I'm the one who has to do it." He stares Justin and Zayn both in the eye, daring them to stop him. "I'm the one who's gonna make him pay."

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