Coalesce

NINE

Niall sits quietly, nestled in the corner of the couch, trying to watch what's on the TV whilst the brothers bicker on the other end of the seat. It's a Saturday; Dad's at work and Zayn has locked himself away in the study to work on a song, so the boys have been left to their own devices.

As a result, the kitchen's a mess, Harry's eaten all the sweets from on top of one of the high cupboards, the cushions from the other couch are on the floor after a failed attempt at building a fort, and Liam has turned up the volume all the way to try and block out the sound of his nine year old brother's singing.

"Liam's stinky and Niall is too," he chants loudly, the same 'lyrics' repeated over and over again. Niall would be lying if he tried to say the boy isn't annoying him a little bit too, if only because he's not used to so much noise after being an only child for the past fourteen years.

Liam isn't as good at masking his irritation. He throws a pillow at the youngest. "Haz! Would you shut the hell up, please!?" He yells, exasperated.

That only makes Harry sing even louder, skipping around the coffee table and then jumping up onto it, grinning as if he enjoys winding his brother up. Niall thinks that maybe he does, and it's another of those sibling things that he doesn't quite understand.

Liam huffs after another minute or so of this, throwing down the remote that had been in his hand. "You're such an annoying little freak!"

He storms out of the room and Harry skips after him giggling, singing, "what you say is what you are, what you say is what you are!"

Niall watches them go and then takes a moment to glance around the room, the volume of the TV almost deafening now that the noise that had blended in with it before is gone. He gets up and puts the couch cushions back, tidying the room a little before muting the show he'd been watching before and curling up in the armchair instead.

He's tired. Beyond tired, he's exhausted. The whole waking up in the middle of the night and being unable to drift back off thing got old real quick, and it's really been catching up to him these past couple of days. School helps, it takes his mind off of how much he really just wants to sleep.

What's the most frustrating is that things have been good these past couple of weeks. Liam acknowledges his existence at school and even sat with him at lunch one time when his friends were all away, Harry's been treating him the same way he treats his brother rather than like a guest. He's gotten used to living here rather than at the apartment...he just can't place why it's getting bad again, it simply is.

And there's nothing he can do about it. He's just heavy and tired.

He stares at the muted TV screen with half-lidded eyes, feet pulled up into the armchair with him, head cushioned on the armrest, and at some point, he must fade away, because the next thing he knows, he's jerking awake as somebody lays a blanket over him.

His Dad smiles a little, eyes crinkled, sitting on the seat beside him and brushing his fingers through his hair gently. "Hey sleepyhead," he murmurs, palm settling on his forehead for a second as if checking for a temperature.

Niall manages a small smile up at the man, still caught in the haze of his post-nap confusion. "Hmm. Time's it?" He mumbles, lifting a hand to rub his fingers over his eyes.

"Just after three. I got off work early," he explains briefly, then sits back a little, moving his hand away. "You were fast asleep here, bud. You feeling okay?"

He nods a little, blinking slowly. "Just tired."

"You've been tired for a little while now, kiddo. How come you're not sleeping okay?"