Recover (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter One; Meeting The Therapist

"When you try your best, but you don't succeed. 
When you get what you want, but not what you need.
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep.
Stuck in reverse.

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?"

- Fix You; Coldplay

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, Gemma. I'll be perfectly fine walking to his place. Don't worry about me. You're just like Mum sometimes."

Gemma gave him a playful glare. "What, is it a crime to worry about my baby brother?"

Harry smiled forcefully, trying to hide how nervous he was. Today was the day he would see him. His therapist. Even thinking it was a bit foreign to him. He'd never imagined that this is where he would end up one day. 

"Tell me how your project goes, yeah?"

Harry studied his older sister as she flipped her hair. He really loved Gemma, although he'd never admit it. And he knew that his sister and his mum both needed him right now, due to the financial problems they'd been having ever since Dad left. They didn't need a suicidal teenager that harmed himself and was quite positive he was depressed. They needed a stable man in the family, and Harry was determined to be just that.

That's why he hadn't told them what he was doing. Instead of saying that he was going to a therapist to cure himself of his suicidal thoughts, he'd said he was working on a project with a friend. He didn't want to have them worrying about him, so he decided that a small lie about where he was going every Friday wouldn't really harm anyone. 

After saying his goodbyes to Gemma, he walked out the door and started walking towards the direction of the therapist's office. His heart was beating a mile a minute; it was all he could hear. He discreetly glanced at his left wrist, where the cuts were still burning from this morning, and sighed in relief when he saw that they were securely covered by bracelets.

He couldn't wear a long-sleeve shirt, since people would question him about why he was so bundled up in this weather, so he'd taken to wearing bracelets. But they made him nervous, because he could never be sure of when they'd moved out of place and his scars were visible. Harry didn't like showing his scars to anyone, even by accident. They were his. Each and every one of them was a story. A story that only he knew. And he wanted to keep it that way.

Chesire was a pretty small town, a place where everyone knew everyone. This was one thing Harry absolutely hated, mainly because that meant everyone in this town knew the cheeky lad known as Harry Styles. They would be shocked if they found out that he was hiding a secret. They just didn't have it in their heart to even fathom the fact that Harry was incredibly unhappy with his life. That was why, when the old therapist moved and a new therapist came to town, Harry saw it as his golden opportunity.

The sun was beating down on him, making him sweat. He cursed the sun for being so goddamn hot, and cursed himself for being too cheap to take the bus. But a little too soon for his liking, he'd arrived at the office. He checked his watch and noticed that he was on time. His appointment started at four, and it was ... three fifty-nine.

The office was a very professional building, and Harry found himself intimidated by it, even though the rational part of his mind knew that there was no reason for that. He was seeing a therapist, for god's sake. Dr. Tomlinson would help him with his problems. He'd checked his website, and found that he was very reliable. He'd earned a bunch of awards and was highly recommended. 

On the phone, Harry had explained to the secretary about his financial situation, and she'd reassured him that he could take as long as he needed to provide them the money. They would be willing to wait for him to collect the money, and until then, he could get weekly sessions with Dr. Tomlinson.