Reason To Be (A Zouis Family AU)

Part Four, Chapter Four

"Shut up, I'm not five anymore," he huffs, but there's a lack of annoyance behind the words because he isn't really mad at Liam. He isn't mad at anyone.

He doesn't know what he is.

"You sure about that?" Liam teases, and he rolls his eyes at him before standing up.

"You're an idiot," he retorts, earning a dramatic 'I'm wounded' reaction from the older boy. "I'm going for a run."

He does that a lot lately. He isn't sure that it really helps, but there's something about moving and using up some of the overload of energy in his body that helps him take control of his frantic mind.

Ignoring Liam's sing-song "I love youuuuu," from behind him, he slips out of the room and tugs his trainers on, slipping his phone out of the pocket of his track bottoms and unwinding his earphones from them.

The moment the music starts blasting, he takes off out of the front door and down the street, not heading in any particular direction. The sun is high in the sky today and it doesn't take long before he's soaked through with sweat and having to slow down, feet slamming heavily against the hot pavement.

Catching his breath, he takes a few moments to try and slow down his thoughts, and it almost works. He focuses on the trees and the green of the fields up ahead; the breeze blowing through the leaves and the clouds against the blue of the sky. He takes everything in one at a time, slowly, at a pace that allows him to admire the details. When his head is like this, everything feels okay. He feels motivated, like he might go home and finish one of his paintings for once because he hasn't been able to do that in a while without getting bored and moving onto the next thing.

Then a voice he hasn't heard in a while calls his name and he freezes where he is, still panting slightly, mind beginning to whir again. Any chances of going home and being productive go out of the window, leaving him feeling even more hopeless than before.

"Hey, man! Good to know you didn't die."

He turns to face James, his old friend (ex-friend? He isn't sure what to think of him since he hadn't cared about everything that had happened last year) jogging up to him with a grin, cigarette tucked behind his ear.

Niall eyes it and feels his heart pound a little, knowing that it isn't just a normal cigarette. He tightens his jaw and forces a small smile. "Yeah. Hi," he mumbles.

James' smile doesn't falter as he slaps him on the shoulder. "I heard you moved schools because your folks thought we were a bad influence or something," he states with a laugh. Niall crosses his arms over his front almost defensively, nails scratching absently at the inside of his left wrist - grounding himself. "Not that that was the case or anything. Nobody forced you to get hooked on coke."

His heart thuds a little harder then, nails digging in some more. He can't catch his breath. He knows it's probably because of the heat and the running but his lungs are refusing to fill.

He shakes his head. "Yeah. Sure. I have to go," he rushes, starting to walk past the older boy, who scoffs and calls after him.

"You think you're too good for the rest of us now, Ni? Just remember we know the truth," he yells.

He takes off at a run again, wishing he had never left the house in the first place because everything feels worse than before now; his mind louder and the weight in his chest far heavier. He doesn't bother stopping once he gets home, running up the stairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door and sliding the lock across; shoulders hitching and lungs constricting with every failed inhale and exhale.

Niall isn't a complete stranger to panic attacks. He's only ever experienced a handful of them before, but they've always been in the presence of his parents who have known exactly how to calm him since they've been through it all with Liam when he was younger.

He's never had to face one entirely alone though, and it somehow makes it feel so much worse. His earphones have long since been tugged out, phone on the bathroom floor beside him as he slides down the wall to sit on the cold tiles, trying to calm himself down.

And he doesn't know why such small, stupid things manage to get him so worked up; all he knows is he can't think and he can't breathe and he's never going to be normal - it's either be hyper and unbearable or miserable and tired, never anything between.

He ends up with claw marks along his arms, the slight sting grounding him in a way that he knows is dangerous. He sucks in a shuddering breath, cheeks stained with tears that he can't even remember falling, shaking hands fumbling for his phone and dialling a number without much thought.

The line rings and eventually goes to voicemail. He listens to Harry's voice message the entire way through and then calls again and again just in case his brother answers for once. He doesn't, and Niall can't help but worry that he's become an annoyance again.

Because Harry's told him that he's annoying before; what's to say he thinks any differently now?

He throws the phone down with a sob, wishing he had just stayed downstairs with Gracie and Liam where it had been so much easier to just pretend to be okay. To quote off some BS line about healing taking time and all the rest of it.

It's been time.
It's been so much time and he doesn't feel like his mental state has improved one bit; and the worst part is, there's not a huge defining reason for him being this way. He has ADHD and his birth parents were abusive addicts and his best friend had died when they were eight - but he's had time to deal with all of those things.

Sitting there on the bathroom floor, listening to his brothers voicemail on repeat and counting the second between each ragged breath and sob, he can't help but feel like he's never going to feel any better.

AN:
oops?

this is part one of a double update if that makes up for this :(

lol, read straight on <3