Coalesce

BONUS

Warnings for graphic depictions of self-harm, attempted suicide and the recovery process afterward. Please take care of yourselves.

Niall is curled up on the couch next to his Dad watching some game show on TV when the knock on their apartment door comes. It's heavy handed, two stuff knocks and then nothing. He stiffens slightly, sitting up and frowning at his father, glancing around the tiny living room with all its furniture and brightly-coloured decor somehow fitted in cozily, wondering if maybe they've got the volume up too loud accidentally and disturbed one of the neighbours.

After all, he's lived in this apartment his entire life and he's ten now — and in those ten years, they've dealt with plenty of nosy neighbours who don't care about banging on their door at any time of day or night just to complain about something or other. One time, the old man from upstairs had just barged right in, helped himself to their new box of tea-bags and left. He'd been moved to a home a month or two later so they didn't have to worry about him anymore at least.

All the same, he knows better than to run to answer the door whenever it knocks, so he stays on the couch with his legs curled into himself and watches as his Dad stands up and smiles reassuringly at him.

"I'm sure it's just old Mrs Wilson from next door come to tell us about her haunted bathroom again," he says lightly, eliciting a giggle from the small boy.

Whilst his Dad gets the door, he reaches across to the coffee table to grab the remote, muting the TV so he can listen in. It's only seven in the evening, his Mum's been out with one of her friends to help her shop for her new baby and she'd called to say she'd be back in an hour almost two hours ago, so he thinks that maybe it could just be her trying to play a trick on them. She does things like that sometimes then comes in all wide eyed innocent and joyful laughter that never fails to make Niall laugh too.

However, the deep hum of voices that he hears out in the stairwell confirm that that isn't the case. He frowns to himself, getting up on his knees to peer over the back of the couch, the long sleeves of his cartoon-themed pyjamas hanging over his hands as he grips onto the cushion.

Two police officers, both male, one tall and one short, both fully uniformed, step inside. The shorter man catches Niall's gaze immediately and smiles at him in a way that bleeds sadness.

Niall blinks back, looking to his father for reassurance as the man closes the door behind them. They've had the police knock on their door once or twice, like that time when they'd heard shouting all night for weeks on end in one of the neighbouring apartments and had to report it, but this seems different somehow. Niall isn't sure how he feels it, but he does.

His Dad smiles softly but his eyes are bright and anxious as he steps in front of the officers and closer to his almost-eleven year old son. "Can I get the two of you something to drink, or...?" He trails off, trying to be polite before he asks the more pressing question of why they're here.

The men shake their heads equally as politely, the taller man taking his hat off to reveal dark red hair, holding the hat beneath his arm and clasping his hands together in front of him.

"I'm afraid we don't come bearing good news," he begins, sorrowfully.

Niall isn't sure why he's suddenly so scared, but he is. His stomach twists uncomfortably and he flicks his gaze from the officers to his father, hoping for one of them to say something that'll take his fear away.

But his Dad just looks concerned now, reaching behind him to rest his hand on Niall's fingers as they grip the back cushion of the couch. "What's this about?" He asks, almost hesitantly.