"Where's Liam?" The next morning doesn't greet either of them with cheery smiles or any sort of pep, even if it's veering toward noon and they're just checking out. And Lidia's first concern had been the lack of their complimentary room service stolen directly by Liam.
"Oh, he was suspended from work this morning."
"What's that mean?" Harry asks, handing over the two key cards to the hotel receptionist they had learned how to expertly sneak pass over the last few months.
"He broke company policy, but they didn't fire him. He should be back in a couple weeks." The smile that graces her face did not at all match the horrified looks on both Harry and Lidia's, especially not when he turns to his partner in crime like their futures are completely doomed now.
"Okay, thanks." Grabbing their stuff, Harry follows Lidia through the lobby and out onto their familiar streets, the ones they'd be going back to if Liam really is no longer able to get them in the Klein.
"The fuck are we supposed to do now?" Harry asks, not really looking for a solid answer from Lidia, but more to let out his anxieties as he fixes his bag on his shoulder and takes the battered guitar case from her she'd been carrying for him.
"We'll be fine. I'll text him later and see what happened."
"Can't even get a fucking hotel, even if we had the money we don't have a fucking card without him." The dark thoughts on his mind race out of his mouth a mile a minute and she has to slap her hands down on top of his shoulders to get him to focus.
"Harry, we'll be fine. Even if we have to sleep on the sidewalk, we'll be okay."
"How is that okay, Lidia?"
She winces when he says her full name like that, even more so when his eyes are darting back and forth between hers as if she's almost lost him to the panic. "Because you'll be there and that's what matters."
"I can't do anything! You'd be just fine on your own, Lids."
"Stop." She closes her eyes for a brief moment as his words bring back the times she was alone and how not fine she was doing. They need each other and if she has to slap him across the face to get him to realize it, she'll do it. "Harry, listen to me." She's not sure if he is entirely, but she seems to have more or less of his attention, "This is not the worst thing that has ever happened to us and we made it through all of that worse stuff. You just need to breathe and trust me."
It doesn't come without hesitation, but he does eventually let out a big sigh of air from his nose when everything she says puts his worries at bay. "M'sorry."
Her toothy grin before he even gets his entire one-worded apology out of his mouth is the perfect cherry on top to calm him down completely. "Let's go. I'm starving."
"So you feel better then?" She drops her hand into his, lacing their fingers together before persuading his legs to follow beside hers toward the closest fast food chain on her mind.
"Yeah, I told you I think it was because I took too much."
"Hm." She can tell there are other ideas about her sudden sickness racing through his mind as she watches him while his thoughtful eyes are lost to the sidewalk below them as they walk side by side.
She knows he's right to question her excuse, too. No matter how good of one it is. Because it is still just that—an excuse. One she's trying hard to convince herself of as well.
"Get to know the feeling of liberation and release," Harry sits in his usual spot with his guitar case open in front of him and a small pile of people's loose change glaring at him dauntingly. He wishes he was in a better mood, to put on a better show in hopes of getting a little more money, but nothing can come out of him except for the slow, sad songs. His worries are just about eating him alive because he hasn't lifted his head to any one of the onlookers who have passed him in the last hour and an old piece of blackened gum stuck to the concrete below him isn't really that interesting to stare at, but he is far too distracted to pay anything else any attention. After a momentary lapse, he continues strumming the old secondhand guitar into the chorus of the song as he sings it mostly to himself, "Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over."
He watches a hand throw in what looks like a hundred dollar bill and some twenties and Harry quickly traces the arm up to find a familiar face squinting down at him through the afternoon sunlight.
"Lidia texted me."
"L?" Paula wraps the pink satin robe around her body and searches the back room for Lidia, knowing for certain the younger girl had wobbled her way off the stage only a minute before she had. Normally, Paula didn't worry herself too much with Lidia because she always handled herself just fine on her own, but getting a glimpse of the ghost-like appearance on Lidia's face before she disappeared backstage was some cause for concern.
"I'm in here." Paula follows her voice into the staff bathroom at the back, finding Lidia on her knees in front of one of the toilets, apparently not even having had time to throw on some clothes before subjecting her skin to the heaps of bacteria on the grimy tile floors.
"Shit, are you alright?" Before Lidia can respond, she heaves up what is left of the breakfast she'd eaten earlier with Harry into the toilet, causing Paula to cringe away from the scene and try not to become sick herself.
Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, Lidia flushes the toilet and gets herself up onto shaky legs after removing her heels that would have made the process impossible. Paula moves out of her way as she leaves the stall for the sink to wash her mouth out.
It doesn't take long for Lidia to find Paula's thoughtful expression in the mirror as she watches Lidia gargle and spit a few times. "What?"
Paula shrugs one shoulder and averts her eyes to the toilet Lidia had just been bent over, "Nothing just... that boy didn't get you pregnant, did he?"
Lidia stares at herself in the mirror now after flipping the tap off to leave them both in almost complete silence, apart from the hum of music from the main room seeping in. "I don't know what to do, P."
Upon her admission, Paula quickly meets her at the sinks and wraps her own robe around Lidia in a sort of motherly way that comforts Lidia in just the slightest. Rubbing her hand across her newly clothed back, Paula watches Lidia through the mirror as she speaks, "Have you told him?"
Dropping her eyes in shame, she shakes her head and bites down on her bottom lip before responding, "I don't want him to know."
"Is that a good idea?"
Lidia breathes in heavily, "There's no other option than getting rid of it and he'll never have to know."
Paula shakes her head in clear disapproval, "Babe, look at me." She waits until Lidia finally lifts her head up again. "You have one of the good ones. Don't lock him out."
"Exactly. He doesn't deserve to live with that."
"Neither do you."
Lidia runs her fingers through her hair and rubs her hand at the back of her neck, lost in thought. "I don't even know for sure yet."
Liam closes the lid to his guitar case and uses it as a seat in front of Harry before answering the unspoken question written all over Harry's face. "I got caught with weed. They suspended me from my job and took my kid."
"Shit." Harry mutters, feeling guilty for every single bad thought he'd had about Liam over the last couple hours.
"You guys can stay with me for now. I don't feel right leaving either of you on the street."
"I don't know... we don't want to intrude."
Liam holds his hands up, "There's no intrusion at all, Harry. Come on, you can do without the extra pocket change for one day." Liam stands first before offering a hand to help Harry up and once his stuff is packed away, he follows Liam to the shitty part of town where his apartment building is. Harry doesn't ever complain though, he's grateful to have a roof no matter what it looks like.
The apartment is messy but not because Liam has a lot of stuff, it's just old and worn down to the bone. Various beat up, hand-me-down toys are strewn about that Liam spends the first few moments after walking Harry in cleaning up.
"How are you, um... can you get him back?"
Liam shrugs, tossing the toys into a bin by the couch he had always tried to get his son to use to no avail. "Eventually. Once CPS gets done with me." Harry vaguely recalls Liam introducing his son to him after handing off the five year old to his not-so nice mother for her weekly visit.
"So he's with um... Monica?" Harry wracks his brain for the name of Liam's ex as he takes a seat at the table opposite Liam, who had already fallen into a chair with a loud sigh.
Nodding, Liam sighs again and glances over his shoulder at the couch, "You guys can have the fold out bed. Would offer you the second bedroom but it's only a twin in there."
"It's fine. You know I'd be grateful even if we had to sleep on the floor, Liam."
Harry wants to say more, but he knows Liam's a little lost in his thoughts with the way he's staring at his hands and fiddling with a piece of paper that has scribbled crayon on it. "Are you hungry?" Liam finally asks.
"Sure."
The tiny bathroom stall inside the club is the last place she wanted to be doing this, but it's her only option. It all became a lot more real when Paula had returned from the market down the street with the pregnancy tests, forcing Lidia to take the two boxes when she'd refused to.
"You're going to go in there, pee on the fucking thing, and find out. And I'll be right here when you do." It wasn't the confidence boost she needed, but it still got Lidia to lock herself into the stall and do as she was told.
It all came and went in a blur. The minutes it took to give her an answer almost driving her crazy, and she's sure she would have pulled all her hair out had P not been there to distract her. And when something finally showed, her heart sank, even though she really wasn't sure what she was looking at.
"What does two lines mean?"
P was quiet on the other side of the door and it had been all the answer Lidia needed.
"Fuck," she'd cried out and Paula listened as she dropped the test onto the tile, squeezing her eyes shut and feeling all of Lidia's pain like it was her own.
"I know you don't want to hear this but... you have to tell him." P was careful, unsure of how Lidia would react. She expected shouting and expected a fight, but instead, all she got was hysterical crying.
Paula backed away from the stall, tugging at her hair when she realized Lidia was on her knees. "Please just... just go."
"It'll be alright, L."
"Please go!" Lidia wailed and it was enough to convince Paula to give the younger girl her space, wiping her own silent tears as she shoved through the bathroom door and left Lidia completely alone.
The last place Lidia Hendrix ever thought she'd end up was here. The fourth street clinic. And more than that, it's the reason why she's here. Why she's staring in through the glass windows and praying it was all a horrible nightmare.
Her body is completely empty as she stands across the street from the small building, reading the sign on the front for the millionth time before taking the small steps toward the front door. Her hand twitches at her side and she wishes Harry was standing beside her, being the rock she needed to get through this. She wishes he would hold her and tell her everything would be okay.
Wishes he was the one opening the door for her and telling her to sit down while he goes to the front desk. Wishes he was helping her fill out the forms so her shaky hands didn't have to try so hard to steady themselves enough to write her own name on the first line at the top of the paper. Wishes he was asking the lady what times they had available the following day so she didn't have to hear about the woman who had cancelled her appointment at ten o'clock just in time for her to squeeze right in that very time slot.
She wishes he was there to absorb all the stares and all the judgement. Because without him, she isn't nearly as strong to handle it all on her own. And the tears come streaming out again the second she's out the door and the fresh air burns her irritated eyes. She's weak and she wishes she had his arms to hold her.
Harry doesn't realize when she's no longer following him, when she's stopped on the sidewalk and ripping her hand through her hair to tame it from the wind. When tears are already in her eyes because they're alone again finally and she can't even walk beside him without the guilt eating her alive.
"Harry," she breathes into the night and worries that he can't even hear her until he's twisting around to look at her over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowing when he sees how far he'd gotten without her right behind him.
"What are you doing?" He can tell there's something wrong when she avoids his eyes as he walks back to her because there's nothing in the street worth looking at but that's still where her gaze had drifted to.
"I have to tell you something." When he's close again, he can hear the trembling in her voice and see it on her hands just before she tucks them away into her pockets. She's a mess and he can't figure out why.
Had he not noticed the puffiness under her eyes before? Or the sore on her bottom lip as if she'd been picking at it again? Or the way she's carrying herself so differently as if any wrong move might break her? None of it had become as clear as it is now. Not when he first stepped into the club and found her walking out of the back with their stuff. He hadn't noticed anything wrong when he kissed her cheek and told her they had a place to stay for the night. He didn't even notice the way she hadn't even cracked a smile at the news.
Not until now, standing in front of her under the dim and blinking street lights that still managed to make the tears in her eyes noticeable while he could do nothing but watch her crumble.
"Did... did something happen?" He can't help but let his mind drift off into the worst possible directions, balling his fists involuntarily when he thinks maybe someone had done something to her while he had been foolishly hanging out with Liam.
She looks at him finally, pulling her bottom lip under her teeth so it stops trembling and shakes her head. "No, um, nothing..." She sighs, loosing every single word in her vocabulary when she blinks back the blurriness of the tears and sees the way he's looking at her. He's terrified.
"What is it then?" Gently, he lifts his hand to her cheek, brushing his thumb under her eye gently as if he hadn't just made mental plans to beat the shit out of whoever hurt her with that hand seconds ago.
Lidia grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away and forcing herself to look at him even if it kills her. "Harry, I'm pregnant."
There's a moment when she thinks he's broken, a moment where he doesn't move and goes as still as a cement statue right in front of her. She's not even sure if he's breathing.
His hand slips from her grip then and his face is as pale as a ghost. "What?"
Lidia shivers at the thought of having to repeat herself, wrapping her arms around her body and wishing, for the billionth time today, that it was Harry holding her right now instead. "I'm—."
"I heard you, I just..." He shakes his head in slow motion as his eyes fall, trying to come to his senses for her sake but it feels as if his heart has just shattered into a million sharp pieces.
She can't read him at all and he might as well have put a mask over his face because there really is no telling what he's thinking. So, she sniffles and says the only thing that makes sense in the quietest voice he's ever heard from her. "I'm so sorry, Harry."
Blinking his eyes back to her, he looks as if he's about to yell and she cringes before he even opens his mouth. However, her worries become unwarranted when he does finally speak. "Why are you apologizing?"
"Aren't you mad?"
He hesitates, confused as to why she would ever think he'd be mad at her. Stunned, maybe. A little worried and completely full of fear. But not mad. That is the last thing he feels right now. "Should I be mad?"
Looking in his eyes while they turn dark around his pupil as if he's thinking the absolute worst she knows if he's not currently mad, he might be with what else she has to tell him. Shivering, a breeze hits at the perfect timing with her ice cold words. "I'm getting rid of it."
He doesn't blink for a long time. Longer than she ever thought he could go without blinking and now she's sure she's broken him. Until there is a little bit of life left and he licks his tongue across his dried lips and furrows his brow, "You just decided that? Without asking me?"
Lidia cringes away from him when he raises his voice, knowing he's only going to blow up more with the words already queuing up on her tongue. "I don't need to ask you."
He pinches the bridge of his nose and runs his fingers up through his hair that looks freshly washed. She nearly questions him about it, if he'd been slagging it with Liam all day while she'd been going through everything alone. Until he opens his mouth and makes her forget all about it. "You know what I mean, Lidia. Jesus," he whips around to face the street, clearly distressed as he props his hands onto his hips, "were you even going to tell me? It's been... when you were sick you let me think...?"
Her voice shakes when she answers him. "There's no way we could have it anyways. I didn't want to drag you into it."
"Drag me into it?!" He repeats her words in a shout that echoes through the empty street and he faces her again. "It's my fucking kid too!"
She shakes her head, quickly wiping away the wetness under her eyes herself this time, "It's not anyone's kid, Harry. I'm not keeping it."
"I don't care what you want to do, Lids. I care that you weren't even going to tell me." He looks at her then and she finally sees the bags under his eyes and his own tears spilling onto his face that breaks her heart even more. His disappointment is clear and she isn't sure what she regrets more; waiting so long to tell him or having done so at all.
"I thought..." she sighs, getting his attention right when she adverts her gaze beyond him because his eyes are too difficult to look at, "I thought you'd hate me."
His arms spreading around her feel different this time, when he's grasping her so tight she's not sure if it's to comfort her or himself. But she needs it regardless, needs him to hold her like this for as long as he's willing to. She grabs fistfuls of the back of his jacket when he whispers, "I could never hate you... never," while cradling her head against his chest.
And the walk to Liam's place is quiet and not how he had imagined it would be when he'd practically skipped over to pick her up. When he'd been so happy, all he wanted to do was see her as soon as he possibly could.
Now there's an eery distance between them, even if she is right at his side and his hand is wrapped around hers. There's something breaking that frightens him.
Even Liam notices when they walk in together, warmth and the scent of vanilla candles inviting them both inside even though they had brought the cold in with them.
Harry tugs his backpack off and into the chair at Liam's small dining table he'd sat at earlier, leaving Lidia standing like an unwelcome guest behind him.
"What's going on?"
"Hm?" Harry shot up at Liam's inquiry before twisting around to follow the other boy's gaze to Lidia.
"You both look like you've been through hell." Liam laughs just to ease the tension but it doesn't do much when Lidia gets out her last piece of news to the both of them this time.
"I have an appointment to get an abortion tomorrow. That's what's going on."
Harry shuts his eyes tight while Liam looks to him for signs of how he should react to the news. Lidia had always been blunt about things, but he really can't grasp at any words to respond to her. Besides a quiet and simple, "Oh."
Harry opens his eyes and lets out a sigh of air before facing Lidia, "You what?"
Liam cringes away when he realizes this is the first even Harry is hearing it. And she clears her throat, "At the clinic on fourth street. Ten o'clock." Her voice is small and fades into nothing when she tells them both the time without clarifying anything. Liam almost feels like he's intruding even though he's in his own home.
"You even made a fucking appointment without talking to me?!"
"Woah, guys, um, I think maybe we're all just tired and—and..." Liam tries mediating and they both eye him when he interjects, but the last thing he wants is for a full-blown argument to blossom right in front of him.
"He's right," Lidia mumbles and Liam tries not to make it so obvious that even he's hurt by seeing the tears welling up, especially by how hard she's trying to hold it all in.
Harry rolls his eyes back to her, "We're sleeping over there." He points to the makeshift bed him and Liam had set up in the middle of his living room. "I just... need a second."
Lidia takes her things, walking on eggshells past him to the bed while he storms back out of the apartment, making Liam flinch as the door slams behind him.
He leaves her alone for too long. Liam already retiring to his own bedroom after reassuring her that he'd be back, that he had to come back or Liam would kick his ass. Still, she spends her time by herself in sobs that are all dried up by the time the door clicks open again.
With her back facing it, she's not sure it's him, but if it is, he's quiet as he shuts the door behind him and tiptoes across the room to her. It's an enormous contrast to how he'd left what felt like hours ago.
The hideaway bed from Liam's couch shifts when he lays down beside her, pulling the covers over himself and hesitating before turning onto his side and wrapping a careful arm around her body, hugging her close like he had before.
When she adjusts her arm over his and holds on tight, he knows he hasn't completely ruined everything. Still, he leans down and presses his lips against her neck, just below her jaw, and whispers in the most dismal voice she's ever heard him speak in. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry." He's defeated and a single tear falls from the tip of his nose onto her skin.
The next morning is unlike all the others she's had, and it's not because of what happened or because she can clearly hear Liam rummaging around in his bedroom and cursing under his breath, it's because Harry isn't there.
Not next to her, not in the kitchen or at the table, not in the bathroom. Not anywhere.