Reason To Be (A Zouis Family AU)

Interlude Four, Extra Eight

Say Something, Say Anything
[or, the alternative scene in which niall says his first words after the crash to his brothers instead — set during part two]

Liam stops in the hallway when he hears quiet whispering coming from Harry and Niall's room, leaning in to push the door open ever so slightly — he had expected the house to be in complete silence given that it's barely five AM and he'd only been up himself to get a drink of water.

The creak of the door is enough to bring the whispering of Harry to quiet, two pairs of eyes moving to look up at him. Liam smiles. The eleven and eight year old are both in Harry's bed, curled up underneath the covers. He steps into his brothers' room and closes the door behind himself.

"What're you guys doing?" He asks softly, peering at them through the dim room, the only source of light that of the rising sun peering through the gap in the curtains.

Harry leans up on one elbow and grins at the fifteen year old. "Ni likes it when I tell him about school. I was telling him about my science teacher who accidentally set the whole desk on fire, he thinks it's funny," he says, eliciting another tired giggle from the smallest of them.

Liam smiles at the sweet sound. It's been far too long without hearing his littlest brothers voice and he'd give anything to hear him speak again, but Dad and Papa have told them that it's best not to pressure him otherwise it might push him back rather than bringing him forwards, and that's the last thing any of them want. He'd gone back to school a couple weeks ago and had his cast taken off, and everything seemed to be going well aside from the fact that he's still been so silent. It's something Liam will never get used to, something he prays he never needs to get used to.

"Oh yeah? Is that Mr Walker by any chance?" He asks, and Harry laughs quietly, nodding so that his bed head curls stick up even more. "Budge up, you two, I got stories to tell as well."

The two smaller boys do as he asks, Harry moving along until his back hits the wall, folding an arm around Niall as the eight year old rolls over to face Liam, his back against Harry's chest, Red wrapped up firmly in his arms, big blue eyes blinking up at Liam as the oldest of the brothers lifts up the corner of the duvet and climbs underneath to face them both.

They stay in that exact position as Liam relays his own tales of high school science mishaps as well as the funny things that had happened in the boys locker rooms other pranks on the coach and pants somehow sellotaped to the ceiling so that none of the tiles were even visible anymore. That one had had both of the boys in stitches.

Eventually, the chatter quietens down a little, the three of them breathing quietly in the hushed room, tired now despite the full sunlight bathing the room in warmth. Liam smiles when a small hand moves up to rest on his cheek, little fingers pressing on the flesh there tiredly, the same way some kids stroke a blanket or suck their thumb when they're on their way to sleep. Niall's half-lidded eyes are focused on him, and Liam, sensitive soul that he is, finds his eyes growing a little damp as he moves and hand up to rest atop of his little brother's, holding it against his cheek and letting out a breath.

Harry locks eyes with him over their little brother's head for a few seconds; a sad but warm sort of look that everyone in the house seems to have perfected over the past month.

Liam looks back down to Niall, rubbing his thumb over the hand that is still held lovingly to his cheek, sniffling. "I really miss hearing you speak, Ni," he breathes out, even though he knows he probably shouldn't say it — it's what they've all been thinking.

There's a part of him that still blames himself for his brother's silence in the first place, those words he said on the morning of the crash appearing in every dream and nightmare alike. He swallows the memories down like poison when he sees Niall's blue eyes running over his face.

The eight year old's bottom lip juts out and he tugs his hand out from underneath Liam's, using careful fingers to brush away the first tear that falls from the teen's eye.

"Don't be sad," he whispers.

Harry gasps and sits up behind Niall, and Liam lifts himself up on one elbow, eyes wide and tears halted on his cheeks, heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a shallow breath, feeling a little winded as he stares at his youngest brother, questioning whether he has actually spoken or if he's just imagining it; those soft syllables spoken in a voice husky with disuse.

"Ni," he breathes, dark eyes flitting upwards to meet Harry's for a moment, the two of them wearing matching expressions of shock. He looks back down to Niall, who's own eyes are wide with innocence and maybe even confusion. "Speak again," he says softly, not wanting it to come across as too demanding.

The boy frowns, brows tugging together as he sits up against the pillows, glancing from one brother to the other. "Are you still sad?" He asks, quietly, and Liam lets out a sudden laugh, chest tightening with glee because he really has missed that voice, more than he would have ever thought possible, and he vows there and then to never take it for granted again.

He sits up as Harry whoops excitedly, the two of them having the same idea in throwing their arms around the youngest boy, sandwiching him in between them both.

Liam shakes his head against his narrow shoulder in reply to the question. "No," he releases, smiling through tear-blurred vision that is no longer the result of sadness. "No, Nialler, I'm not."

Niall lets out a happy giggle at the sudden affection, hugging the two of them back without complaint or fuss. "Haz, you're ticklin' me," he huffs out, squirming against them both, though neither of them relinquish their hold on him until the door opens and Dad and Papa step half in through the doorway with expressions of confusion.

"What's all this giggling about?" Papa asks eventually, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Liam and Harry grin at each other, and Liam is sure he's never felt happier than he does right now, in this moment — because Niall spoke and it seems like such a small thing but after the past few weeks of radio silence from the eight year old, it's the best sound in the entire world.

"Liam's not sad, Papa," Niall states, as if the reply makes any sense at all. Of course, the words don't need to mean anything at all for both of their parents to all but jump in surprise but Dad instantly starts crying the happy sort of tears and Papa just grins wider than he's ever grinned, the two of them joining the embrace so that they're all on Harry's bed with Niall in the middle, the youngest clearly enjoying all the love if the laughter is anything to go by.

No, Liam's not sad.
If somebody asked him to describe how he feels with his Papa's arms tight around his shoulders and Niall laughing against his neck, squished up on a creaky single bed with his whole family, he isn't sure he'd be able to put a word to it. But happy, content, warm...well, they're all definite contenders.

AN
welp, i've has a terrible case of writers block recently so this chapter is essentially me trying to get over that with fluff and cuteness. i think like, one person asked for this extra a while back so here it is. a little short and all over the place but adorable nonetheless.

hope this is okay! sorry for the slow updates, i'm doing my best <3