Stand By Me

Chapter Fifteen

Things feel easier, moving forward. He stops asking about his mother everyday, he focuses better in class, he settles into the way life is with the Maliks. It's the type of life he's always dreamed about but has been just out of reach, the life he'd catch mere glimpses of every time he'd go to Harry's house only to leave behind again each time he'd return to his personal hell.

He still has moments where the past catches up to him, where Zayn or Louis will raise their voice or lift a hand when they walk by him and he'll flinch, transported back to his old house with Paul and the fists and the bruises — but that's all it is now, the past, brief moments of badness followed by a lot of good. He thinks about his Mum too, there's no way for him to simply switch his worries off; it's just less frequent now, him zoning out and wondering where she is, what she's doing, if she ever thinks about him too. He's not really angry anymore. He's not sure what he is — it's only been three weeks since he deleted her number but each day brings him a little closer to acceptance.

Acceptance of the idea that maybe, his mother and him just aren't supposed to be together. And when he's with Dad and Papa and Harry and Liam, that's okay. He's not alone or afraid anymore.

Liam treats him the same way he treats Harry, and he and Harry treat each other the way they always have; like brothers. They stay up stupid late most nights just talking or laughing until either Zayn or Louis will come in and tell them to shut up and go to sleep, not a threat, just a scolding. He's never had someone to simply tell him off and do nothing more before.

It's always been either complete ignorance or a beating. Here, he has sculpture. He has a family, a Dad and a Papa and a warm bed to sleep in. He has food in his stomach and a lift to school every day, people who want to talk to him and involve him in conversations rather than treating him like a burden and acting as though he doesn't even exist.

This is the way it's supposed to be. He's known that for a while...it's just that, he never thought that he'd experience it. Never thought that he deserved it. He's still learning that last point, learning that it's wrong. He deserves good things. Not beatings and hatred. Love and care, a family and a home.

It's well into autumn now; the weather windier and chillier, the greens and blues of summer replaced by ambers and reds, the skies grey and cloudy, the air crisp as the leaves that crunch beneath their feet.

He and Harry are in the garden, having been given the chore of raking all the leaves into a pile.

Of course, it's taken them almost three hours already (and yes, that may be because they got caught up in a sword-fight with the rakes and then had to take five minutes just to catch their breaths, which led to them getting into a heated discussion about who would win if the rakes were lightsabers, which led to an in-depth conversation about Star Wars, and really, they could talk about that for hours). Now they're scooping up the last of the leaves into the middle of the yard and Niall can already tell exactly what Harry is thinking just by looking at the small smirk on the taller boys face.

The two of them dive into the leaf pile at the same time, landing on their backs with a padded 'crunch' sort of sound, Niall's shoulder landing on Harry's spread out arm, both laughing.

"Dad's gonna go mad," Harry says, craning his neck up to look at the scattered leaves. Niall peers around and then drops his head back again with a grin, turning his neck so he's facing him.

"Or he'll just make us start again," he offers, which makes Harry groan.

"That's even worse!" He huffs, head falling back and green eyes reflecting the swirling grey clouds of a pre-storm sky. Niall turns his head back to look too. "It's kinda cold."