In his later life whenever someone talked about patience, aunt Sharon always told them about the time he had managed to bust up his chin and had gone through the entire stitching process without even letting one tear loose. ( Which was probably an exaggeration of what had happened but Zayn never pointed that out.)
As usual, Zayn and Stan were playing on the porch. The sun was harsh that day, making them sweat through their knickers. Their shirt was already off, lying somewhere in the lounge.
" Come on, Kit," Stan called out to him from beside the water pipes turning one of them on. Zayn's eyes furrowed, confusion clear on his face.
" Stan, what are you doing?" The six-year-old asked, squinting his eyes as the brutal sun rays pierced through them. Stan shrugged.
" Shower." He took the pipe, pressing it's mouth as such that it was spraying water. Zayn's eyes widened as the pipe was directed towards him. The dark skinned boy yelped at the oddly cold contact, his body simmering under the water.
" Stan!" He reprimanded, walking towards him slowly and snatching the pipe away from his tiny hands. " Your mum will kill us."
Stan tilted his head, his eyes widening comically. After a thoughtful second, he shook his head before saying. " No, Mom loves me." Confidently.
Zayn sighed shaking his head at the toddler. " But she doesn't love me." It came out merely as a whisper.
" Come on, kit. Water fun." Stan jumped a little, his little brows furrowing in annoyance.
" But Stan." Zayn started, the pipe still secured in his hand.
" Kit, please. I'm burning, bitch!" Stan stomped on the ground much like the toddler he was. Zayn couldn't help but chuckle at the curse word he had used. It just sounded wrong, how he said it, clearly trying to mimic his mother but his baby shrill voice giving it an amusing edge.
Zayn turned away from his best friend and crossed his arms against his chest, letting the pipe drop to the ground.
" You said you wouldn't say that word again." He tried his best to act disappointed, tucking his lower lip under his teeth to keep the chuckled from escaping him.
" Kit.." The three-year-old whined, wrapping both of his arms around the older lads waist. Zayn struggled to keep himself on his feet as the toddler shook him full force.
" I'm going upstairs." He announced, stripping himself away from his younger cousin and walking towards the front door.
" No kit. I'm sorry." Stan shrieked causing a smile to poke its way towards Zayn's lips. He halted in his footsteps but didn't turn to face his cousin.
" You're sorry?" Zayn asked, feeling proud.
" Yes." Exasperation clear in those words.
" What does that mean?" He said, walking back to the pipe careful to keep his gaze away from the squirming toddler.
" I won't say it again." Stan let out, timidly.
" You promise?" Zayn picked up the pipe testing the water under his fingertips.
" I promise." Stan's usually shrill voice came out sheepish and soft.
" Well, then." The older lad let himself smile brightly before turning around. " Water fun!" He sprayed the water at Stan making him jump. A series of chuckled escaped him as the toddler squirmed under the water screaming and shaking. Once his body got accustomed to the temperature, he just stood there letting the water cool him off. Zayn laughed at his expression of calm, moving closer to him and putting the pipe directly over his head.
" Kit." Zayn watched at his hair water rippling through it.
" Yeah." He asked, letting himself splash the water on Stan's head.
" Water fun." Stan snatched the pipe from him and sprayed him right on his face. Zayn gasped turning his head away. Startled, he coughed the water that he had managed to inhale.
" Stan stop." He raised his hands in front of himself, in a miserable attempt to shield himself from the water.
" Sit down, Kit. Now I shower you." Stan diverted the direction of the water, giving his cousin the time to sit.
" Okay but not on my face." Zayn sat down crossing his legs together. Instinctively, he let his eyes close sighing when the water hit his head, slipping down his shoulders.
" No burning now." Stan chuckled balancing the makeshift shower in his hands so that he wouldn't drop it on his friends head. Zayn was completely relaxed, almost feeling himself turn into the puddle that sat around him.
" Stan! Kit! What are you doing?" Zayn fluttered his eyes open at Hera's voice. The youngest daughter of Fiona stood at the front door, a mischievous tint to his expressions. She was wearing a yellow summer dress, that was pressed to perfection. The makeup on her face giving a plastic vibe to her nine-year-old persona. Zayn grimaced as Stan let the pipe loose and it hit his head forcefully.
" No! Go Away." He screamed jumping towards his sister. Zayn rubbed his head, shuddering at the pain waves that passed over him.
" But I want to play too," Hera exclaimed straightening her posture a bit.
" No!" Stan pushed her away." I don't want to play with you!" He shrieked hiring her full force when she tried to get past him. For a three-year-old, the ravenette was quiet a fierce lad.
" But you let him play with you." She looked at Zayn with a look he could only decipher as jealousy.
" He's my friend!" Stan yelled stretching both of his arms like an aeroplane.
" I am your sister!" She retorted back, angrily.
" I don't like you. Go back now, b- Hera. Go back." Zayn smiled, ignoring the pain in his head. Proudness soared his heart at the thought that Stan had kept his promise. Hera misinterpreted his smile giving him a dirty look before turning away and walking back.
For a moment the only thing Zayn wanted was to go back upstairs and cuddle up to his papa.
However, Louis was not home and he had told his son to stay downstairs until he returned. Slouching, a Zayn let his gaze fall to his lap.
" Kit, let's play now?" Stan hooked his hands under his shoulders helping him stand up. Zayn smiled at him nodding at the question that sparkled in those black eyes.
" I'll run you catch me," Zayn said before breaking out into a sprint. Stan laughed running after him, the smile constant on his lips. His hair had already started drying sitting in front of his forehead falling into his eyes.
" Slow down, Kit! I'm smaller. You catch me first." He panted, stroking his hair away from his eyes. Zayn stopped nodding at him before turning the direction of his movement and following the younger lads pace.
" Stanny, I'm gonna get you." Stan yelped as his cousin got dangerously close to catching him, ducking his head to get away. Zayn raised his hand forward to get closer to the lad but as little as he was, he was very fast and got away every time.
" Kit." Stan panted slowing down a little, clearly worn out. Zayn took this as the opportunity to get the pale but as he got closer. Stan started running again, this time towards the front door. The three-year-old climbed the two steps up and ran inside.
" Stan this is cheating." Zayn stopped, huffing before resuming his course. Unfortunately, there was a little puddle of water right in front of the bottom of the stairs. Zayn's slipper stuck themselves to the puddle and she he tried to move again he stumbled forward landing chin first into the first step.
He didn't account for the scream that left his lips, completely paralysed by the pain that sent shocks to his jaw.
" Papa." He whimpered, folding into himself unaware of the severity of his injury.
In a distance, he heard someone chuckling. " It's your punishment. He won't let me play with him because of you. It's your punishment." It was Hera. Zayn felt the tears rolling down his cheeks, his heart clenching for his father. He whimpered when another wave of pain crashed against his face, making him cry out in agony and humiliation. His never one opened throughout the whole thing.
" Kit!" Stan screamed, terrified at the blood that pooled around his friend's face. Zayn laid at the bottom of the steps, his eyes clenched shut, both of his arms around his face. Alarmed, the three her old ran back to his mum pulling at her shirt.
" Kit's hurt, money! Kit's hurt!" He shrieked, letting his tears fall. Fiona left the kitchen with her youngest son, agitation clear on her face.
" What happened? Did he scratched his knee again?" She huffed, trying to search him in the porch. " Where is he?"
" Here, mommy, ere." Stan pointed towards his friend urgently, his tears falling move rapidly now. Fiona gasped at the scene that greeted her, fear washing over her.
" Kit." She reached her nephew, hauling him up to her lap. Her breath hitched at the amount of blood gushing out of his chin. " God! What happens?" She said concern heavy in her voice. Quickly, she clasped her hand around his chin trying to stop the blood flow.
" Papa," Zayn whined earning a soft hush from his aunt. The six-year-old still hadn't opened his eyes clenching them shut forcefully.
" Call Mama Sharon." Fiona directed Annie, fear sharpening her instincts. She didn't know what she felt, wasn't sure what had happened but on the thing was clear. She was scared. " Tell her to come now." Annie nodded before getting up to her feet and rushing inside. The entire household sat together now, surrounding the injured child on the first step of their front door, waiting for Fiona's elder sister to come.
" Kit." Stan urged his friend to react, his voice meek and tentative. Grinding his teeth together in pain, Zayn let his eyes open blinking through the tears giving a small smile to his worried friend. Stan started crying harder, no sound escaping him.
Soon the fate rattled alerting them of the presence outside. Darren opened the door to let in Sharon and Louis.
Louis gasped, shaking his head at the blood that laid on the ground and his son who was cuddled up against Fiona. Swallowing, back the tears he rushed towards them kneeling beside the boy, who jumped for him to take him.
"Oh Kit," His lower lip wobbled at the tears that leaked out of his son's eyes, his heart clenching at the blood that leaked through Fiona's strong grip. Immediately, he took him in his own arms, replacing her hand with his own. " My God!" He cried at the pressure that strikes her hand.
" Papa." Zayn's broken voice made his heart crack, guilt gnawing st his sides.
" Your fine, baby." He rocked him back and forth, peppering his face with kisses. It was the only form of reassurance he could give to him.
" Harry's out of state. We're going to have to take him to the hospital on foot." Sharon declared, sizing the boy up carefully. " Give him to me. You're in no state to carry him, Lou." Sharon hooked her arms under the boy hauling him up, his father following suit. Louis kept his hand on his chin but soon it was replaced by Sharon's paler one. " Don't worry. Come we have to move fast." She gave her brother in law a reassuring nod. Louis wiped the tears from under his eyes, following his sister in law out of the gate.
Together they dashed to the hospital, conscious about jerking the child around too much. Zayn himself had fallen awfully quiet. The six-year-old was careful of his actions, reluctant to see his Papa cry again. He cried when aunt Fiona insulted him. He cried when grandma Rina fought with him. He also cried when daddy didn't talk to her. And Zayn didn't want to be on that list. The list of people who made papa cry and so he kept his feelings to himself. The raven haired boy spaces out the pain until they were at the hospital and he was laid onto the bed. Honestly, he was too tired and wanted to sleep already but the shock of those pain waves kept him awake.
" Is it going to leave a scar?" He heard aunt Sharon ask the doctor, as his father went to buy the required medicine.
" It might." The doctor said, filling up the syringe with a colourless liquid.
" Make sure it doesn't show up on his face.." her tone was serious.
Zayn almost shrieked when the doctor brought the injection closer to his chin but then his father came into his view, his cerulean eyes red and puffy. Immediately, he bit his tongue, trying to make the least movement possible when the needle was inserted into his skin. After that, he did feel the burn of the first few stitches but he didn't let out any noise to indicate pain, wary of his papa's reaction to it. Soon it was over and he was back in his father's arms, a huge gaze taped to his chin.
And that was the story of his bravery and patience.
Aunt Sharon retold the story it more times than he could recall, marvelling at the bravery of the six-year-old. She said that she didn't remember if the doctor had given him any sort of anaesthetic but she remembered that he had to take a chunk of flesh out of his chin and even then Zayn hadn't cried.
Harry's first born had sat through all the times blushing at the appreciation and smiling at her misconceptions. She thought that he had stayed strong because she was there with him and that gave him moral support. No doubt that was a reason too but only Zayn knew what the real reason was. He kept his composure for the sake of his papa and himself. If he believed he was fine then he would be fine. And if aunt Sharon had volunteered to go with, every time he needed a doctor, because she thought he needed her, she was just over crediting her presence.
Zayn remembered when he had reached back home and how everyone had been there to welcome him. All of his cousins had looked at him with worried faces and that was the first time Zayn had seen such compassion from any of them, much less all. In all that crowd, there had only been one genuinely concerned face and that was Stan. Sadly, as years passed by that face only became a memory to Zayn. Hera had been nice to him too, letting him touch her makeup.
The ravenette had slept a happy boy that night fooled by the worried and concerned faces. He wished he was smart when he was younger. It would've have saved him a lot of time that he had wasted in pursuing people and seeking their affection.
If only he had realised then that if he could keep a straight face through the most painful of times, why couldn't people mock the expression of concern and hurt when they needed to. If he could conceal his pain then they could conceal their hatred too and they did.
And as his chin had a scar to prove the stairs brutality, the broken part of the stair in the shape of a semi-circle, showed how strong he was. He was strong and the people were trying to break him and even if they did get to him, he could pull a straight face through it all.