Hold Me Close (Sequel To Take Me Home and Keep Me Safe)

Chapter Twenty-One

Zayn sat beside the hospital bed with his head in his hands. The beeping of the machines in the room and the soft sound of Niall's breathing was his only company.

He had managed to convince Liam to take Louis home for the night. The kid had fought hard against it, but it was clear that all the walking around without his crutches had caused him to ache - he couldn't move without wincing, he needed his painkillers and some rest. Liam was pacing, unable to look at the kid in the bed without breaking into tears - Zayn knew it wasn't good for him to sty there all night. He had reassured his husband that he would call the moment there was any sort of change.

As of right then, Niall hadn't even stirred.

Harry was downstairs getting something to eat with Ashton. They had all been there since that morning, and Zayn knew they all needed to take care of themselves meanwhile.

He clasped his hands together beneath his chin, looking at his son. Anyone might have thought he was simply sleeping.

The bandages wrapped tight around his wrists said otherwise.

His arms were rested on top of the sheets, lying on his back with his head rest on the pillow. His lips were slightly parted, and there was a cannula nestled in the crook of his arm, leading up to a stand with a bag of crimson liquid alongside a clear one. Zayn was doing his best not to look at them, he was used to seeing these things. He just hated to see them all hooked up to his little boy.

The machines continued to beep.

Zayn reached out and took ahold of one of Niall's hands, closing his eyes and running his other hand over his own face as he let out a sigh of gratitude at the warmth he felt in the boy's fingers. His thumb swept back and forth over his knuckles gently, mindful of the cannula.

He couldn't believe this had happened. He couldn't stop staring at the bandages on the thirteen year old's wrists, knowing what was beneath them.

He swallowed and shook his head, feeling so close to breaking.

He knew he had been working too much. He had been away so often and he couldn't help but feel guilty. Perhaps if he'd been around, Niall might have come to him before it had reached this point. He could've prevented all of this.

But all the 'could haves' in the world didn't change what was happening.

Their family was falling apart. Maybe it had never been together in the first place - from day one, it had been disaster after disaster. From Louis being bullied, to Harry's depression, to Niall's abuse by his therapist, to this. And it felt as if they always realised too late.

He couldn't help but wonder if they were ruining them. Making things worse instead of being there to stop the bad things in advance.

Niall's hand moved in his, and he stood up from the armchair quickly as two blue eyes blinked up at him wearily, then moved around the room.

"Hey, baby," Zayn whispered, reaching out to hold a hand to Niall's cheek softly. The boy looked up at him and tears began to fill his eyes and he shook his head, pulling away and trying to push himself up into a sitting position.

"No no no," he choked out, and Zayn winced at the words, trying to hold onto Niall's shoulders.

The kid pushed against him, sitting up and looking down at his wrists and letting out a sob. Zayn noticed the boy was trembling, tears running down his cheeks.

"Bug -" he murmured, but Niall shook his head even harder, weak hands fumbling to tug out the IV from his elbow.

He winced and caught ahold of his hands carefully. Niall continued to fight against the grip, crying messily.