Checking the address unclearly written on the small, wrinkled piece of paper, I knock on the door again, each time harder than the last. With a sigh I glance at the number nailed into the wood; that's it, apartment 11. She knows I'm supposed to be here, this has to be a joke of some sort.
I sigh again and try ringing the bell, again, but that doesn't work either. Out of frustration, I try opening the door, and I'm a little startled when it actually opens. I blink at the metal handle, still composing myself, but then I force a few steps forward, finally entering the unfamiliar room.
Come to think of it, she was pretty disturbed last night- ugh, who am I kidding, I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd had a stroke on the spot. It wouldn't be weird if she misspelled her own address, I wouldn't be surprised if a complete stranger came out of one of the rooms with a baseball bat.
"Um..." I mumble to myself, looking around; I notice two or three leather jackets on a hanger, and combat boots lined along a wall, but it could still be anyone living in this place. She's not the only girl that's obsessed with coming off as a punk. "Freya?"
I put my hands in the pockets of my jacket, waiting for any sort of reply, but getting none. I'm starting to get an uneasy feeling about all of this, so I instinctively walk to the nearest opened door, which I suppose is the living room.
"What the hell?" I say with a frown, when I see a woman – more than obviously the one I'd called – sitting on the couch. I walk around the black object, frowning harder when I see that she's just sitting there, legs crossed in front of her, holding a landline phone in her hands while she stares into space, her face empty. She's definitely conscious, but I'm not sure if she's hearing anything of what I'm saying.
A rather terrifying thought crosses my mind when I think twice about the phone in her hands, and swiftly take a seat next to her. "Freya?" I call again, this time much more cautiously as I scan the side of her face; now that I'm closer to her I can see the little details I couldn't before – how red her eyes are, and in the bright light coming from outside a window, I can also see what looks like tear stains on her cheeks.
Either way, nothing looks good so far. "Freya, what happ-"
"He hasn't woken up in eleven hours," She begins, the hoarse tone of her voice causing shivers down my body. "They can't wake him up. He doesn't respond to sound, or light, and when they tried pain stimuli on him, he only moved a finger."
That last bit gave me a little bit of hope, but it seems to be making her start crying again. "Look," I begin, furrowing my eyebrows again as she brings the sleeves of her oversized hoodie to her eyes; this is not my field, this is not my field at all. "He got smacked on the head with a beer bottle, it's only normal that he's unconscious after that."
"He's in a coma, Seth," She cuts me off and, somehow, I knew the conversation was headed in this direction. "Don't try to deny it, even the doctors I've called tried denying it so they'd spare my feelings, everyone's sugarcoating this, I just-"
She jumps up from the couch, pacing in front of me with her hands in her hair; Niall told me she's a fireball, I should have expected this. "What were you thinking?!" She hollers at me, the loudness of her voice startling me. She's a thin, British girl that's nearly a foot shorter than me, who knew she had it in her?
"What the fuck were you thinking letting him near Craig?" Freya continues, and I sigh, not wanting to fight her. I heard her last night – I heard both of them last night – when she told him she loves him too, it's natural that she's looking for someone to blame. And it's also natural that it's me she's blaming.
"Okay, in my defense," I speak up when she continues pacing in a worried, furious manner. "It wasn't my idea-"
"Oh, I know it wasn't your idea," She laughs bitterly, running her hands through her hair and not slowing down one bit. "And I would love nothing more than to put my brother in the same position as Niall right now."
I pull my lips between my teeth as she stops all of a sudden, and turns to me, her hands on her hips. "But you," She starts, and I get a sudden uncomfortable feeling that I'm talking to my mother. "You are an adult! You should have known better, you shouldn't have let him do it!"
"Do you think I haven't tried?" I interrupt her, laughing in disbelief. "He's 5'9 and the only time he's ever done any kind of exercise was in his high school gym class. It's like sending a kitten into a minefield."
"Then why did you do it?!" She shouts, and I'm actually starting to feel a little pissed right now. "Why did you let the kitten into the minefield?"
"Are you not listening to me?" I shout back, louder than her, which fortunately gets her to stop talking. "I said I tried, I tried talking him out of it, I knew what could happen to him, I'm not a fucking idiot! I even offered to do it instead of him, but you know what he told me?"
I pause, to look her dead in the eye – she slowly crosses her arms over her chest, looking vulnerable all of a sudden. "He told me he needs to do this himself. Because he cares about you. Because he loves you, and no man wants another man fighting for his girl. He wouldn't have given up on it no matter what I said to him."
She lets out a shaky breath, but forcefully rolls her eyes in fake annoyance to hide how she's really feeling. "You just- ugh. Just, just stop talking, you have the most annoying accent I've ever heard."
Ignoring her insult – because I honestly can't get angry about it anymore – I stand up, and walk around the coffee table to reach Freya, and pull her in a rather awkward hug. Her arms are still crossed, and the top of her head is barely reaching my shoulders. It's like her existence is refusing to cooperate.
"He's going to be fine," I say firmly, not letting my discomfort get the better of me. "He wasn't in a damn plane crash or something, it can't be that serious, right? Come on, you're a future brain surgeon, this is your area of expertise. Work with me."
"Ass-kissing isn't going to help you here," She mumbles against my jacket, and pushes me away from her, earning a sigh from me. "He's... he's in a coma."
"Okay, but," I begin, desperately trying to recall everything that I know about being in a comatose state. "Did they tell you anything about his pupils?"
I raise my brows as she swiftly turns around, a careful look in her eyes. "Yes, they said they're... they're normal."
"Normal?" I repeat, taking a few steps toward her. "Equal in size?"
At first she nods, but then, "But they also said that he's not responding to light-"
"But his pupils are normal," I cut her off determinedly, "Which means that he's probably just lethargic."
Freya narrows her eyes at me, but she doesn't seem angry anymore. I understand that she's worried and upset about Niall, but I'm really trying to make her think logically. "How do you even know about comas?"
"Everyone knows that," I defend. And my original plan was to go to a med school, but then I didn't get in, and now I'm stuck majoring in English and probably being an English teacher until I retire, I add in my head.
She shrugs, looking at her bare feet silently. Okay, I know she wasn't expecting me this early, but she should feel at least a little awkward about only wearing a hoodie and boy shorts right now. "Whatever, I'm- I'm tired, let's just get this over with."
I frown as she starts walking out of the room, "What?" I say bluntly, causing her to stop and look at me. "'Get this over with'? You mean you-"
"Yeah, I know why you're here," She snaps in a bored tone, "I just need your help with a few things."
After that she leaves the room, leaving me confused as well. I didn't tell her why I'm coming over, how could she possibly know? But when I think about it, she told me she's love nothing more than to put her brother in a coma... so he must have told her everything. I'd say that was incredibly stupid of him, but she doesn't seem to mind. So we're all good. For now.
A minute later I hear her feet padding against the wooden floor in the hallway, and I'm still standing in the same position in her living room. "Alright," She claps her hands together, trying to look like she's got everything under control, but I can tell that she's not going to stop being distressed and restless until Niall wakes up. "How good are you with lifting things?"
I blink a couple of times at her overly casual voice, staring at her for a few seconds. "Um, well, I can lift Niall with one arm. Why?"
Closing her eyes for a second or two as I say his name, Freya takes a deep breath and looks at me again. "Well, when they took Craig to the police station, he had to do a drug test and, long story short, the police took all of the cannabis they found in the apartment."
I nod slowly, grimacing a little at her professional voice. "So, could you take the TV and place it on the coffee table?"
I blink again, this time completely baffled by her request. "Uh, the TV?" I repeat as I look at the boxy object just a couple feet away from me, and get a nod from Freya. "Can the table actually handle that?"
"Yeah, it wouldn't be the first time," She tells me, seeming a little impatient. I nod again, still perplexed, but I push my confusion to the side and take a few steps to my left, placing my hands on either side of the gray object. I hear Freya hum in satisfaction and leave the room, and she comes back in less than a minute, just as I'd unplugged all of the cables and placed it on the coffee table. I'm really worried about the table.
"Okay, what n- what the- what are you gonna do with a screw driver?" I furrow my brows – I've lost count of how many times I'd done that since entering the place – as she stands behind her TV and starts taking the screws off.
"You know how I told you they took all of it?" She begins, placing the first screw on the table beside her. "They did. And I almost got arrested for it, because they found my fingerprints on the bags too," She continues, putting the second one on the table and beginning to take the third one off too. "Anyway, I've outsmarted them because they couldn't. Find. These. Two."
I grip both sides of the box, as she pulls the back off and as if on cue, I hear two light smacks against the floor. After she places the back on the ground, she bends down and picks up two small plastic bags with green substance in them- that's exceptionally smart. I might just do that too.
I'm a little taken aback when she brings them to her nose, shutting her eyes as she takes a deep breath; is it too early to tell her that she might want to search for rehabilitation centers? "Okay, let me just put these in a bag and we can go."
"Hey," I call before she's even made a few steps, and she turns to me with a sigh – she's probably thinking that I'm gonna say something bad about the weed. Ha. "Just keep in mind, you're... you're moving outta here. Like, for good. So don't only bring the things that you need, bring everything that's yours."
By the end of my reminder, her eyebrows are raised and she's nodding at me cautiously. "Okay, but you might have to wait another half hour, if that's the case."
"I don't mind," I tell her quickly, turning away from her so I'd sit on the couch. "I'll just watch the TV." I give her a tight smile – for a moment forgetting that I've unplugged it – and she responds with one too, before walking out of the room. As much as I'm happy that everything's going well so far, I feel like I'm being forced into meddling. And I don't like to meddle.
I mean, I'm probably gonna be with Freya and Niall a lot when they're together in the future, but just so that I could tease him about all the things that he does and says when he's with her. That's as far as it'll go, as far as I'd want it to go. And this, this thing that we're doing right now, that's farther than I would want it. This is past my comfort zone. Helping his girlfriend move out of her apartment because of everything that's going on is past my comfort zone.
If I'm not his best man when they get married, I'm going to be pissed.
*******
I slowly lift my arms and grip the top of the door frame, watching her sit down on the loveseat in the small room. I almost find it cute how she looks so clueless, looking around the unfamiliar place. I don't know if she's ever been in Niall's apartment, but even if she hasn't, she won't have a problem finding her way around. The place is basically like a shack.
"You sure you got all of your stuff up here?" I ask, leaning forward and tilting my head to the side. Freya averts her eyes to mine, placing her hands on her jean-clad ankles as her legs are crossed on the beige couch.
"Yeah," She replies softly, pulling onto the hem of her black hoodie. "And, you know, even if I'd forgotten something, it's in your car, so..."
I nod as she trails off, and we both look at our feet. I don't know what exactly to do now; my only job was to bring her here, which I did, but I think I'd feel bad if I just left her alone. "You know, if..." I begin after a minute of silence, knowing what I want to say but finding it a little uncomfortable. "If-if you're like, scared to be alone or anything, I could-"
"No," She quickly shakes her head, looking down at her hands again. "It's okay. I don't need you to stay here."
"Yeah, I wasn't planning to do that either," I respond mechanically, not really thinking about how it might sound when I say it outloud. And when Freya frowns at me, I decide that it didn't really sound nice at all. "I meant, like, you could come with me to the frat house. You could stay in Niall's room."
She bites her lip, her brows raised slightly as she watches me, clearly unsure of what to say. "The frat house?" She repeats with a small grimace – I knew I should have just left.
"Well, yeah, he doesn't share his room with anyone so you'll have all the privacy that you need," I stammer, refusing to let my mind think about the things she could do with her 'privacy'. "The guys won't mind, but you might wanna lock the door if you plan to sleep or take a shower."
Freya breathes out a laugh – I'm not sure if what I'd said was funny or if she's just laughing at how nervous I sound for some reason – and she shrugs, a little hesitantly. "Yeah, I guess I could... spend the night there."
I nod a few times, waiting for her to say something else but she stays quiet too. "Good," I nearly choke the word out, "Then take the stuff that you need for the day, and the- the night, obviously, and I'll be in the car."
Standing up on the carpeted floor she nods at me, and I offer her a curt nod as well as I lower my arms next to my body, almost stumbling as I walk out of the apartment. Before leaving the hospital last night, I managed to 'steal' Niall's key, so I leave it in the keyhole for her to lock when she leaves. And hopefully I'll get a grip on myself by the time that she does.
I shake my head as I enter my car, the thoughts going through my head a little knotty; obviously I'd never try anything on her, hell, even if I were in a delirious state my mind would be able to comprehend that she's off limits, especially to me. But on the other side, we're obviously forming a relationship of some sort. And it's terrifying because the last time I had a friend that was a girl, was probably in third grade. And, of course, the fact that she is insanely fit isn't helping me at all. Christ, why could he just not stick to girls like Leanne? I doubt that kind of girl would cause anything like this.
The door on the passenger's side opens, scaring me a little. A second later Freya is sitting next to me, reaching behind to put a single backpack in the back seat.
"Is that all? Seriously?" I ask, making her roll her eyes in an amused way the second time. I mean, she's a girl.
"That's all, you can start the car." I nod at her firm tone as she buckles her seat belt, and I start the car as she requested. It takes me a minute of driving down the snowy street to remember that Niall's borrowed the car more than just a couple of times, to be with her. Oh God, if they-
"So, Niall drove the two of you around in this car a lot, right?" I ask, my voice a little too casual to be genuinely taken as casual, as I keep my eyes glued to the street.
"We didn't have sex in your car, Seth."
"Oh thank God."
Freya laughs for a few short seconds as I breathe the words out, honestly feeling relieved on some level. I kind of understand why he flipped out that one time when I told him I accidentally brought a girl to his room in the frat house, instead of mine. In my defense, I was shattered.
Well, that defense wasn't really of much help, because he still forced me into buying him new bed sheets. Though I kind of understand that too, I wouldn't hesitate to ask him- no, order him to buy me new seat covers if her answer was any different.
"Ever thought of getting a new car?" I blink a few times, once again interrupting my thoughts as I hear Freya's voice. I glance at her, a little confused by her question.
"Um..." Why would I ever sell the Impala, the Impala is life. "No? Why?"
"I think you've outgrown it."
She giggles lightly as I sigh, "Let's be honest, the only vehicle I haven't outgrown is a rocket."
I get another laugh from her at that, this time a little louder. This friendship thing could be going a good way. "How tall even are you? Your hair is touching the ceiling."
"Um," I stammer, but then nod firmly, "I'm 6'5 and God forbid I made a quiff while driving this thing."
"Well, if it means anything, I don't think a quiff would look good." I frown at her words, as she laughs at my baffled expression; how could that mean anything? "I mean, your hair is too long for a quiff, it'd look like a mohawk."
"Oh, yeah," I reply, stretching the word out. "I have long hair and I'm bigger than the wing span of an albatross, people have already started calling me Sam Winchester."
I press my lips together as I take a few seconds to look at her laughing face; yeah, she's smiling at all, but I can tell that it's not reaching her eyes. I know that neither of us could be in a completely light mood, no matter how much we tried joking to pass the time. Not when we both have Niall and the state that he's in in the back of our minds. "I once called you Sam. Not because of Sam Winchester."
"Why'd you do it then?"
"I was drunk and I forgot your name."
I nod a few times at her bluntness, feeling her eyes on me. "That strangely sounds like something I would say."
"Sure it does," She mumbles to herself, and I frown again; the hell is that supposed to mean? What's Niall been telling her? "How far from the house are we?"
"It's just..." I pause as I turn around the corner, "On this street."
Freya nods and sits back in her seat, for a few seconds before I park the car on the sidewalk. I'm the first one to walk out, and I wait for her to reach me. "Ready for this? No problem if you're not," I tell her, raising my voice a little because of the wind. I swear it wasn't this windy in Niall's street.
"I'm not gonna be any readier, so let's go," She says, just as loudly as she pushes the gate open, and I follow her in. We only uncross our arms when we enter the house, and- nope, it's no different than it was this morning. Colorful cups, colorful stains and misplaced furniture and clothes all over the place. No different than any other Sunday morning, in general.
"I'm sorry for the mess, but," I pause while jumping over some sort of a pile – or it could be a human body covered with a tablecloth. Why the fuck would we have a tablecloth? "We're pigs, and this is our barn."
"No problem," Freya says as we reach the staircase, that's cleaner, if nothing. "I used to wake up to this."
Her words make me frown, but I decide not to ask anything about it. How is it that she's a stripper, but I never thought of her as a party girl? "Well," I push my thoughts aside as I push a door open too, "This is the room."
I take this as a chance to look around too; nothing has changed, of course. It still looks like nobody's been in it for years, ugh, how could such a fun person have such a boring room? White walls, white sheets, white curtains – it would be better if he had at least put up a poster of some kind.
"Oh, you forgot your backpack in the car," I start all of a sudden – more because of the awkward silence than the fact that she'd actually forgotten her backpack. "I'll go get it for you."
"Yeah, thanks," She nods, a little urgently; I feel like, whenever we're in a room if any sort, the atmosphere becomes uncomfortable. I wouldn't blame her if 'alright, thanks, now get the hell out' is what's going through her head.
Considering that the house is absolutely trashed, and the weather outside is horrendous, it takes me a good few minutes to reach my car. Freya's backpack is even lighter than I thought it'd be; she's honestly thinking of just spending the night here, and then going back to her new home in the morning. Or going to the hospital to be with Niall. I actually wouldn't be surprised if she snuck out in the middle of the night to go see him, I know for a fact that she was willing to sleep in the hospital last night. Until I practically carried her out, that is.
I sigh as I close the door behind me, and jump over the same pile slash human body to make my way to the staircase. I should really check what that is.
I knock on the door, not waiting for a reply as I walk in – and almost immediately regret doing it. "Freya?" I call, grimacing a little as she quickly brings the sleeves of her hoodie to her face, her back facing me as she's been staring out the window. I mean I hope that's what she's been doing.
She crosses her arms over her chest, and I gulp as she turns around, her eyes slightly red. I literally left for three minutes, what the hell could have happened in three minutes?!
"What happened?" I ask carefully, dropping her black rucksack next to the door.
"I... called the hospital again," She says quickly, sounding even guilty on some level; oh, yeah, that could have happened in three minutes. "And... and he's still unconscious."
I open my mouth to say something, but end up sighing as she turns away from me, presumably more tears going down her face. I'm honestly scared to leave her alone in this room, if she doesn't have a distraction, she'll kill herself by thinking about Niall.
"You know what, it's still early for me to start working or anything, so I can-"
"No," She shakes her head again, the exact same way she did back in Niall's flat. "I just... want to..."
She trails off, taking her boots off and sliding into Niall's bed. The sight became a little sad when she brought his quilt to her nose, and then started shaking harder. This is devastating to watch, but sometimes people really do want to be left alone when they're going through something rough.
"Okay," I say quietly, gripping the handle as I take a few steps back until I've exited the room, "If you need anything I'll be downstairs, okay?"
After a few seconds of not getting any kind if response from her, I pull my lips between my teeth, and close the door. I only hope that wasn't insensitive of me, but if I kept looking at her in that state, I'd probably end up being in that state as well. Much like her, I need to find a distraction of some sort, because I'm still not exactly ready to face the reality of the situation.
Time to see what the pile at the bottom of the stairs really is.
*******
ok now before you all go 'this is cliché' and 'this is predictable' on my ass ----- i need a few things to happen before bringing niall back in the story. and the scene where he wakes up is the cutest shit ever so there's something you can look forward to yaaaaaaaaay
please vote and comment? ily x