Stand By Me

Chapter Nine

Regina, the other officer, glances down at a device clipped onto the pocket of her blazer as it buzzes, glancing up at Louis before she looks to him at first. "Alright, we have a Paul Martyn in custody, picked him up from the address that we were given," she tells him, and he blinks, unsure of how he's supposed to react.

"Is my Mum there?" He asks quietly, and Regina frowns, taps something in on the screen, waits for it to buzz again, and then glances back up.

"Nobody else was there. Is there anywhere she usually goes around this time? I know you mentioned she doesn't leave the house very often," she says.

He isn't even sure why he asked to begin with, but now he wishes he hadn't, because his heart is starting to speed up and emotions are flooding back in.

The lump in his throat refuses to budge as he swallows, glancing across at Louis, whose eyes are as kind and warm as ever, hand moving down from his back and scooping up one of his hands from his lap instead. Niall looks down at it, focuses on the comfort of a touch that doesn't aim to hurt him, and slowly wraps his fingers around it in return. He shakes his head without looking up.

Jo speaks up then, voice less stern than her colleague, more reassuring. He tries to cling onto it, the fear threatening to take ahold of him again as his mind spirals, thoughts refusing to be kept at bay — because where would his mother have gone? What if Paul knew the police were coming before they arrived and he hurt her because of it? What if she's injured and it's all Niall's fault for running away and telling Harry the truth? How could he —

"We'll put out a message on the radio, okay? Get the house swept over and if that doesn't work out, then we'll take a description and a photograph and have an eye kept out for her, alright darling?" She says.

Niall stutters a nod and twists his free hand up in the loose material of his trousers, sucking in a shaky breath and trying not to panic (and he hates that part of him is maybe even relieved that he doesn't have to face his mother yet — wants to prolong the inevitable which involves her hating him for getting the police tangled up in their lives). When he sees her again, will she still be angry? Will she still want him to leave? Will she stop him from going to Harry's house and staying there as the plan currently goes?

He glances up when Louis' hand squeezes his softly again, the pressure tugging his consciousness away from those dark corners of his mind. The man smiles gently at him. "We're allowed to drive over to your house and pick up some of your things now, if you'd like? Zayn's probably still talking with the social worker so we've got time."

He pauses before nodding again, sniffing. He isn't sure why the thought of going to his own house is bringing him so much anxiety even now when he knows that the police have got Paul in custody and so the usual threat isn't going to be there, but it does. His stomach churns against his sore ribs but he never says anything. He goes to the bathroom before they leave, following silently to the car.

Before the engine starts, Louis reaches across and opens up the glove compartment, sorting through the mess inside until he finds a small white box, tugging it out. He glances at Niall with soft eyes, wincing as his gaze catches on the bruises that he's aware are marring his usual pale skin. He can feel them with every twitch of his nose and blink of his eyes, a steady throb that will soon develop into a headache again.

"I always keep a box of paracetamol in here, Liam gets migraines and he's too stubborn to tell me about it before he goes to school so he comes out worse for wear," he explains softly, flipping the box over and skimming the back. "One pill for up to twelve. That alright for you?" He asks, glancing up.

Niall hesitates, swallowing down the lump in his throat because his mother is usually the one who leaves him with a couple pills as if it's going to be enough to erase the damage done by her husband's fists. But he knows that Louis won't dump the medicine on him and then leave; he cares more than that.