"Before I let you go
Let me look at you
Don't you worry
You will help me."
-Killing Lies, The Strokes
__________
Harlan was released from hospital. He wished he could say he wasn't offended when the nursing staff treated him like a typical junkie, but he was.
For years, Harlan had lived in a bubble—a hallow shell made from a drunken haze. Something had cracked that shell; Liana Cox. Harlan had come out of that comfortable seal only to recoil back into it with fear. But now, it was completely gone.
Something about coming back from the dead to find someone waiting to care for him had shattered his exterior. There was no longer a doubt in his mind that Liana loved him. It wasn't just words anymore, she had proven it.
Harlan suddenly cared what others thought of him—he was ready to be someone Liana would be proud of.
The media had already labeled Harlan a junkie... again. He was beginning to realize that people only remembered the bad things—no one ever remembered the good things. But the more Harlan thought, the more he became aware that he had never done good things.
Every "good" thing Harlan had ever done, had stemmed from something bad. He had been good at blaming others for his problems. And although he had been done dirty, it was still no excuse. This was life—at some point in time, everyone had been done wrong.
Liana was the perfect example. Her father had abandoned her, her brother took on that role only to later take his own life. Liana didn't blame anyone; she took her troubles in stride and pushed through. Harlan was beginning to see that he was the problem. He had to fix himself—he had to be the man Liana needed him to be.
Liana had canceled the remainder of her tour. Once news broke that Harlan Hayworth had overdosed in a downtown rave in Houston, managers were going crazy with damage control.
Harlan blew his shot, and he suddenly cared. He could not stand by Liana with the world viewing him as a disease; something that was going to taint her. He had to get better... for her.
Words were only spoken—words meant nothing. Harlan needed to take action, to prove that he was worth standing by her side.
The thought had been on his mind since before leaving the hospital; when he discovered that Liana had held his dying head in her lap—when she basically "mothered" him until help arrived. He couldn't stop thinking about it.
It wasn't on a whim, but he needed to play the field to his advantage. There wasn't a chance in hell Liana was letting him leave her side if she knew his plans. He had to spring it on her—he had to do it when she least expected it. Harlan may have been a deceiving piece of shit, but it was for a good cause—it was for her.
Standing in line at the terminal waiting to board their flight, Liana held Harlan's hand. Her manager had not been happy about the cancelation of the tour—begging her to just replace Harlan.
She couldn't do it.
Harlan was alive, but he wasn't well. She felt that her place was with him, not on the road or onstage or crammed in some hotel; Harlan needed her—or perhaps she needed Harlan. She was scared to take her eyes off him, afraid that in the blink of an eyes, he'd be gone.
Mark was right, Harlan couldn't get away from her. Although she wasn't the "hemorrhoid" Mark had insisted she would be, simply taking a shower was no longer a simple task. Harlan couldn't complain too much about it though, it was an excuse to see her without clothes.
Everything was set in place—two days since he had basically been brought back from the dead, Harlan had made his plans—everything was arranged. His manager had said it was the right decision for his image, but Harlan was doing it for something else—for someone else.
Liana moved toward the gate. Harlan stood like stone, holding onto her hand tightly, pulling her back. Confusion set in her expression as she looked into his doe eyes.
"I'm not goin'." Harlan said.
"What? But, we bought tickets-"
"I did it so you wouldn't try to stop me." Harlan tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
She sighed. "Okay, let me think... I can call Cal and arrange to meet with the studio next week, but Harlan I have to be there at-"
Harlan licked his lips, taking a step closer before holding her face in his hands. "I'm gonna go away for awhile. But just for a little while, okay?"
"I don't understand. Where are we going?"
Harlan flashed a hurtful smile, finding his thumbs stroking her face. She was everything he wanted—everything he needed to get better for.
Harlan shook his head. "This is somethin' I have to do alone." He spoke low. He became guilt stricken when Liana removed his hands from her face.
"I can't believe you're doing this to me. You're leaving me in an airport to go... where?"
"Jus-" Harlan inhaled deeply, bringing his fist to his pursed lips. He grabbed her hands, holding them to his chest so she couldn't get away. "Just promise me somethin', alright?... Promise, that you'll wait for me."
"For how long? Where are you going?"
"I don't know- I don't know how long I'll be gone... less than a year."
"A year?" Liana's eyes grew wide. She tried ripping her hands out of Harlan's grasp, but to no avail.
"It's gonna be okay. It's gonna pay off, I swear."
"You're leaving me. You're leaving me, and you're doing it here so I won't make a scene. This is the last time I'm ever gonna see you again, isn't it?... Isn't it?" Liana yelled, causing a few glances to move their way.
Harlan's grip on her hands became tighter, pulling her into his chest as he shook his head. "I swear, Lee... this isn't me tryin' to breakup with you." Harlan forced a chuckle. "This is me doin' what I shoulda done a long time ago. I love you... I want nothin' more than to make you proud of me."
"Leaving me in an airport is not making me proud, Harlan."
Harlan smiled, pressing his lips together as he pulled her into a hug. "I know baby, I know. But someday real soon you're gonna look back on this and thank me. I gotta be ready, you know." Harlan pulled Liana back, gazing into her eyes with a slouch. He wanted her to see the determination in his eyes. "I gotta be ready in five years. I'm still gonna ask you. I don't care if you're married to someone else, I'll knock on your door with your husband home and ask you to have my baby." Harlan laughed; he smiled wide when seeing he had gotten Liana to smile too. "I'll do it, you know I will."
Liana's smile fell staring into his eyes. Whatever Harlan's plans were, he was sticking to them—he wasn't backing down.
"I gotta get myself right. You told me once I wouldn't make your mama proud, well... baby I'm gonna make your mama proud." Harlan smirked, following it up with a wink. "She won't look at me and wonder what her amazingly, beautiful... annoying daughter is doin' with a piece of shit like me... maybe. She'll probably still wonder that." Harlan admitted with a partial frown. "I love you. I am... I'm in love with you. I've never been so sure of anything in all my life. But I have to do this, baby... I have to. I don't wanna fuck this up again."
Staring into Harlan's eyes, Liana realized what he was doing and where he was going. "Annoying, huh?"
"Did you finally catch that?" Harlan smiled, moving his hands to her face again. He could feel the flesh of her neck against his fingers as he brought her lips to his. He rested his forehead to hers—his jaw clenching in defeat. He didn't want to go, but he knew he had to. "You promise to wait for me?"
"You promise to come back to me?" Liana asked, keeping her eyes on his neck.
"I'll always come back to you. Until you put a restrainin' order against my ass... I'm always gonna come back to you." Harlan smirked at his own joke. "I love you, Lee. But I gotta do this."
Harlan kissed her lips once more before letting her go. He put his hands in his pockets, refraining from reaching out to her again.