Wilted Flowers [Edited]

30. Taking It Back

Though it isn't easy, Niall tries to keep normalcy in the four walls. Even though darkness looms in each corner, it's still home and the place they both feel safe and corrupted. Look before, he places his laptop on the counter, trying to make something that Louis would maybe eat today.

Every time he goes into his room. However, he'll see the food there: untouched, cold, and mocking him. Maisie suggests an in-home therapist to come and talk to him. With what little savings he has, he hires one.

The therapist is a lovely man, very educated. Niall is pleased when he hears Louis talking to him. Louis pours his heart out. At first, Louis focuses on Harry and the injustice he feels from the way things ended. Then, he moves on to the bereavement of his Mother.

One day, though, the therapist asks Louis to open up about his toxic relationship with Clay when he least expects it. Louis paints a picture of a codependent and abusive relationship. Louis admits to feeling mentally tortured a year before the first act of violence ever emerged.

Sick bastard, Niall thinks.

Much to his delight, the therapist incorporates Niall in some of the sessions. He explains to both of them that he believes some of Louis' closest friends are suffering from secondary trauma. Niall disagrees at first, but only out of ignorance. He isn't sure what it is and doesn't want to take any narrative away from Louis. Yet, the more the therapist talks about it, the more he realizes that he fits into that category

"How did you feel upon finding Mr. Tomlinson in the kitchen.....unclothed, bleeding, not even oriented?"

"Oh, I thought he was drunk," Niall chuckles. "I thought he passed out in the floor to be frank. Maisie and I just walked in from our anniversary vacation. Had a blast. I thought Louis was playing around...but then, I saw him there...." Niall quickly furrows his brows. "I thought you were going to die," he answers truthfully. Louis wipes a tear from his waterline before it can fall down his face.

"Do you ever have nightmares about it, Mr. Horan? Or feel confused? Blame yourself? Angry?" The therapist asks as if he's reading from a list. Niall doesn't speak, only looking at his hands in his lap, lip quivering. "It's okay. It just means you were deeply affected by Louis' firsthand trauma."

"Oh, I've been affected for years then," he puts his arm behind Louis, pulling him close to him. "This is why we live here and not on campus. I had to get him away from Clay, kicking and screaming. I wanted to protect him. I promised his mother, you know? I love you so much," Niall pulls him into a hug, sniffling. "I never want to find you like that again!"

Louis rubs his back softly. He realizes that he had been so caught up in himself that he didn't even notice that everyone was hurting. He sighs, releasing Niall, and slumps deep in his chair.

"So what do we do then?" Niall questions frustrated. "Look at him! He won't eat! I've tried everything...EVERYTHING! His sisters don't have the money to get him help, and I'm doing the best I can. I don't know....Louis, what is it going to take? We have to move on from this. I'm getting married in June and moving in with Maisie. Where is that going to leave you? You're my best friend. I want you to be happy!"

Without answering, Louis just sits ashamed for the rest of the session as Niall and the therapist brainstorm ideas for normalcy. Niall discreetly asks him about alternatives when he walks him to his car. Still, the therapist says Louis won't meet the criteria for an inpatient treatment program with his current BMI, at least not one that cared if he had insurance or not. Money makes the world go around.

Though nobody will ever know, Niall cries all afternoon in his room on the phone with Liam. It created a domino effect as it troubles Liam to the point he talks to Zayn. Of course, reaches out to his best friend, Harry. Harry. Though Harry and Ed are still having trouble, they manage to comfort each other throughout this topic. Louis probably will never know the impact he has on everyone.

Or maybe he does.

Looking in the mirror that night, he sees his hallow cheekbones and sunken eyes. His legs, once defined and lean, look malnourished. Mostly faded bruises litter his body.

He stares deep into his own eyes, irises that were once so blue, blue as the ocean, dimmed to a hazy grey, and that's when he realizes: he hates who he is now. He hated who he was a year ago...so what? What will it take to make him want to have the will to live and feel like a person? What used to make him feel confident, sexy, worthwhile? What can he do to be a role model for his younger sisters? What can he do to make himself less miserable?

"I hate you," He spits at himself.

As the sun graces the world with it's appearance the next morning, he pulls himself out of bed. He layers himself with two hoodies and walks to campus. His ankle hurts and he has pain in his joints, but he presses on nonetheless. He searches the gym, making sure there's nobody villinous around. It's overwhelming.

He used to love working out. Soccer was his life, the reason he's at this forsaken university. Why is it such a foreign concept now? Why had Ana taken so much of his life away?

As if guided by a compass, he enters a room without a single soul. It has mirrors from wall to wall and ribbons, boxing gloves, and mats everywhere. He sits down in front of the mirror, looking at himself again, grimacing as he notices how brittle his hair looks.

God, how the hell was I so lucky to have someone as beautiful as Harry?

"He is rather gorgeous, isn't he?" A blonde girl with curves to die for, strong arms, and a confident demeanor says, sitting down beside him.

Did I say that outloud? He blushes.

"Yes, you did. Welcome to Bebe's Banging Body. I'm Bebe," she laughs. "And you're sick."

"Louis," he corrects her.

"You look like you're on a mission for a change. I can help with that," she offers. "I see you have bruises on you. I'll get you strong, ready to fight. You'll never have to go through that anymore, but I won't if you don't agree to not let anyone else abuse you....and that includes yourself," she smiles in the mirror at him. He beams back, only half buying into it.

"I recognize you. You play Soccer here....used to....but you were benched." She states matter-of-factly. "And you were talking with Styles, my co-teacher of pilates on Wednesdays...." She giggles. "I didn't pull this information out of my ass. He won't shut up about you," she rolls her eyes.

Louis cups his cheeks that are growing pink.

"I like you already, Louis. This is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!" She stands up and helps him on his feet. "Come on!" She exclaims as he walks to the door.

Louis doesn't follow; he instead stands confused. Bebe runs back and grabs him by his arm, pushing him along. "We need to go to your place. I need to see what I'm working with. I'll make meal plans. Stick to them. I'm getting my degree in personal training and nutrition, you know. You can trust me. I have classes Tuesdays and Thursdays – come to them.

Wednesdays are Pilates – don't come. You'll be distracted, and so will Styles. I'm not doing damage control. Friday nights, come back to my class for a one-on-one. Ready to get your life back, babe?" She winks.

Louis walks with his head down as Bebe tugs him along. He reflects on the whole conversation and wonders if he can really keep up with all the fitness and lifestyle changes she's trying to implement.

"So Harry talks about me?" He perks up as she rolls her eyes and propels him along the path to his house.