Count On Me | Niam

Chapter Fifty-Five

He'd suggested as much to Niall one night, when they were curled up together on Niall's sofa, only for Niall to shake his head, looking at Liam as if he'd said something funny. Niall had reached up and kissed him, smiling and shaking his head as he said, "You're cute, Li. Kids, Chloe especially, don't work like that. She'd have asked or said something. She doesn't know you're leaving."

That was all they'd said then, Liam had stayed over and they hadn't said a word more about it when Jessica arrived to take Chloe to school for Niall, Liam had thought about asking as Niall ran around, frantically trying to get ready for work, but he hadn't managed to find the words.

He found the words, though, later that evening, when he and Chloe were sat together on his sofa, watching The Lion King and Niall was cooking dinner, trying to remember how long chicken nuggets wanted in Liam's posh oven. Chloe was colouring in Liam's tattoos, drawing in between the chevrons, and circling some the lyrics he had, something she'd started doing after commenting on how there was no colour.

Waiting until she'd finished colouring in the feather tattoo, Liam took a second to admire her handiwork before asking, "Chloe, poppet, you know how I've been working a lot more recently?"

Shrugging, Chloe grabbed hold of Liam's wrist, beginning to colour the skull in blue, her lack of an answer prompting Liam to hesitate before he pressed on. "All those interviews and meetings and rehearsals, right? I've been doing all of that cause I have something really important coming up. Something that might make me really busy for a long time."

That caught Chloe's attention.

She stopped colouring, setting her felt tip down on Liam's jean, not remembering to put the cap on but not noticing as it slowly began to stain the denim a darker colour, pushing her hair out of her face as she asked, "How busy? For how long? Will you not be able to watch me at swimming?"

"Really busy, Chlo. Like, not even here busy. And for quite a few months, too. So I won't be able to, poppet." Liam was aware of Niall hovering in the doorway, having over heard the conversation, his grip on the tea-towel he was holding slowly tightening as he watched Chloe's face crumple. "Really, Papa? Months?"

"Yeah, Chlo. Cause, you know that I'm singer, so part of my job means that I go around the world." Liam held his breath as Chloe looked between him and Niall, her posture slowly stiffening so that she could wriggle away from Liam as she asked, "When?"

"Soon. Really soon. The first concert, Chlo, you know what they are, is next week." Cringing as he spoke, Liam was well aware of how bad that sounded, standing up and looking helplessly at Niall as Chloe shook her head, the realisation of everything slowly dawning on her as she said, "You leave...you're going next week? That's...Oh. Why...you didn't say anything. You're going and you didn't say."

Niall had set the tea-towel down on the edge of the sofa by the point, anticipating Chloe's next move, wrapping his arms around the little girl as she turned to him, burying her face in Niall's t-shirt as she mumbled, "Daddy. I want to go home."

"Chlo." Returning Liam's frown with an equally helpless look of his own, Niall was glad that Liam hadn't gone ahead with his idea of telling Chloe somewhere in public as Chloe refused to look at Liam, making a point of asking Niall again. "Can we go home? I don't want to stay now."

Niall hadn't known what to say, torn between Liam and his daughter, but choosing Chloe's side even when picking a side wasn't strictly necessary. Chloe had asked to leave, she'd left when Niall hadn't wanted to stay, and now it was her turn. Though, really, he wasn't choosing a side. Chloe...she came first. She had to. Chloe wanted to go and so they went, leaving Liam there still trying to explain to Chloe, the brief promise of a phone call from Niall and a reminder about the oven full of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.

Chloe chose not to say good-bye to Liam, hurt over the fact he was leaving in a week, and hadn't said anything until then. Even her old teacher had told Chloe's class she was leaving months before she went and then Liam hadn't said anything. Like he hadn't wanted her to know. Like he was glad to be going.

On the bus ride home, Chloe sat on Niall's lap, playing with the zip on his jacket as she asked him, "Why is Liam going? Does...does he not want to be around us anymore?"

Chloe's questions caught Niall off guard. He hadn't really been expecting her to ask that. He'd figured she'd be upset, it having taken her so long to warm up to Liam and get used to him, but he'd never dreamed she'd see Liam leaving like that. He pulled her closer, not caring about the few odd looks being thrown their way by the other passengers, shaking his head as he said, "No, Chlo. It's for his work, poppet. Really. Like he said. He doesn't want to leave us, Chlo. He's not...it's not like that. He goes away and every so often, we get to see him. He comes home, to us, or maybe in the holidays, we go see him. It's a few months, and then he's back."

Sniffing a little, Chloe nodded, still sounding unconvinced. "Daddy? Can we not go to Liam's tomorrow either?"

"If that's what you want." Niall pressed a kiss to the top of Chloe's head, hoping that she'd somehow come round between then and now, her use of 'Liam' instead of the more recent 'Papa' not lost on him as he looked at his daughter, brushing her curls out of her face before he nodded. "If that's what you want, poppet."

_____________________________________

And that's fifty-five.

I did say Liam and Chloe would have shit. Not too much, though. Or maybe a lot.

Who knows?

I do. But let's pretend that I don't.

And, because it's been at least ten chapters since I last told you, and the plot hasn't gone as far as I'd intended, this is your friendly reminder that we stil have a hella long way to go.

So take your shoes off, take an oreo, and make yourself at home.

If you haven't guessed, I'm in a funny mood today. My world is still ending. I haven't bought more chocolate. I'm still my parents' chosen method of communication. The emails are almost hourly. Not that you guys needed to know.

If your lives suck as much as mine seems to right now, please feel free to join my pity party. Party hats are by the door, and the DJ is playing sad Taylor Swift songs on repeat.

I don't even know anymore.

Thoughts?