Epilogue

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Therapy was boring. It required him to talk about his feelings, about situations that everybody was hellbent on saying hadn't occurred. Niall had already gotten tired of his therapist, he was dumb, boring and downright adamant on proving that the blonde was crazy.

The number of meds he had been put on was insane. If the prescription from the doctors at the hospital wasn't enough to drive a person to the brink of insanity then these additional pills from a therapist were certain to do the job.

No matter how much he loathed sitting in the room with awful cream and brown coloured walls, with simple black leather couches and a man with a friendly face with a notebook by his side 24/7, he still attended all the appointments because this was the one place he could talk about what happened to him without somebody giving him those damn pitiful looks. Though his therapist was crazy, he at least tried to keep a poker face on.

"Have you been well?" The man asked soothingly, which really didn't help his case. He just sounded annoying. And maybe Niall was being a little too harsh on this man in front of his eyes. He was in this mid thirties, with a genuine laughing face and if they hadn't met in these circumstances, Niall might have actually enjoyed his company because unlike everybody else in his life, at least Dr. Ian Kinney let him talk while he listeners at times Niall forgot that he was actually paying the man for doing this.

"The same as what I was before," the blonde gave a tight smile, taking a sip from the glass of whatever in front of him. In the past one month since he had gotten discharged and had been attending the therapy sessions for two weeks now, he had tried to sit and think hard over everything that had happened. He had even rang up a few people in school and nobody seemed to have a clue about who Harry, Liam, Louis and Zayn were. It didn't make sense. He thought it might have something to do with Justin and his power but nobody had that much power that they could get everybody to lie straight through their teeth. At least one person was bound to fuck up. However, everybody Niall had interrogated seemed to genuinely not know who the four men were.

"Are you taking your medicines regularly?" The man asked politely, out of a formality was more like it.

"Why do I even have to take them? It's not like I'm crazy. Those things happened, it was an experience that I underwent and it has left me confused and shocked. Nobody understands me, people think I've lost it but I haven't. I'm perfectly fine. I know that there are three more people with me in the car. I don't need any medicines to tell me otherwise," the blonde breathed, "plus they make me sleepy."

"But that's good. You've been having trouble in getting proper sleep. With your wounds and your nightmares."

"They aren't nightmares. They are actual events that took place and I keep reliving them in my dreams. It's a reminder of them and their existence. Something that everybody here has magically forgotten about."

"Niall, we talked about this. You need to stop thinking that everybody is lying to you," the doctor sighed, writing something down in that notebook of his. It infuriated Niall, made him want to snatch that book out of his hands and read what the fuck he was writing. Most probably noting down how crazy he was. Well fuck him, he was going to get to the bottom of this. Last night he had managed to sneak out and walk all the way over to where the boys lived and not surprisingly, the place was now owned by a small family of three. He had stayed there long, thinking hard about what he was missing. There had to be something. This whole life could not possibly be a lie.

"Why can't people stop thinking that I'm lying to them? How can I lie about being in love? You can't fake that feeling! You also cannot fake having your virginity lost and going on a school trip with them, and the entire one night stand with Justin," he choked on a sob. It was an overwhelming feeling, knowing that you had been living a lie. A part of him wanted to give up badly, to just agree with all others when they said that there was no Harry, Liam, Louis and Zayn to take care of him.

"Nobody thinks you're lying Niall. You're just confusing reality with your illusions."

"You think I made them up?" The blonde stared wide eyed.

"It won't be uncommon. Though it's mostly found in younger kids, the process of creating an imaginary friend for themselves to help them in times when they feel alone and lost. You could have done something similar. Created four imaginary friends for yourself and a romantic story with them because of the stiff situation at your house that your parents told me about. Do you think that's possible?" The doctor asked, briefly recalling what Maura and Bobby had told him in their once a week session with him which mostly included of them giving details of how Niall was behaving and coping, and how they were coping with his behaviour. He didn't want to take on his client's parents but they had insisted.

"That....seems plausible. I do recall getting comfort from them whenever my parents fought," Niall shrugged, getting a bit flustered at the thought that he had done something so childish. He had created imaginary friends/lovers for himself. But why would he go to the great length of creating a villain that could kill them all? He raised this question to his therapist.

"Well, you are rather insecure of yourself. I've gathered that much from our previous sessions and it's completely possible that your subconscious created a villain, to make you believe that you weren't loved either by your lovers and by your parents but in the end, you powered through because the people around you kept on making you realise that your insecurities were futile," it sounded like absolute bullshit but Niall had to admit that it could have been so. He nodded his head silently, glancing at the clock and sighing when it turned to 5:30. It had been a whole one and a half hour. His therapy time was over. He drank the water from the glass, getting up quietly to bid goodbye to Ian.

"Think about what I've said. And if anything happens, call me immediately. We'll meet next week," he smiled, glad for the weekend that was approaching. Sometimes the blonde wondered how tiring it must be to be a therapist. Ian probably had more than ten patients in a day and how the fuck he managed to sit through listening to their problems and giving solutions, prescribing medicines and fixing visits to listen to the same problem again, was beyond him. He quickly walked outside of the clinic.

Luckily for him, he had grown quite accustomed to walking. The doctors at the hospital had even recommended that he should go out on daily walks to calm himself down and to give his body the time to heal in nature settings. He had been doing that by talking night strolls in the company of his brother when he didn't have therapy and on the days when he did have it, he walked his way home from the clinic while Greg was the one who dropped him to the clinic. Quite obviously, Niall felt bad for Greg. The poor guy had to look after him and walk him around. It was kind of fun but nonetheless, sad.

As he was nearing the road towards his house, his eyes kept drifting back to the times he would spend with those four. If they were truly a figment of his imagination, then he had definitely been at his lowest point to have created them and if they were real then he would definitely kill them when they met.

Shaking the thoughts away, he neared his house, frowning when he noticed that the mailbox had something in it. They never recieved any mails, who did anymore? The time was all for emails and texts, and here there was somebody, dropping a mail.

The blonde took his out of the box carefully, frowning when he noticed that it was just an envelope. He opened it, scoffing when there was no letter or the name of the person on it. There was a suspicious feeling at the pit of his stomach but he brushed it aside, thinking that it might have been some accidental mail or just something from a friend. He opened it and pulled the paper out, a letter. Holding the paper between his fingers, he contemplated calling his parents but resisted the urge. Something inside him was telling him to read its contents alone.

Slowly, he opened the letter, frowning when noticing that only two words were written on it. It wasn't the two words that pulled him into a state of shock but the name written at the bottom right hand side corner. Gasping, he couldn't bare to hold the paper in his hands anymore.

Missed me?
             -Justin Bieber

An/ the end.

Thank you for reading this.
I love you.
I apologize for the late late late updates.
There might be sequel but I'm not so sure.
Who all have converted into army's from 1D? My favourite ship in BTS is namjin and I really wanna write something with them as the main characters but it's gonna be a fail for sure lmao.

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