niall
"That's great, thank you so much," I nodded, trying not to breathe too heavily into the receiver as I stole a glance at Harry, "okay well, I'll see you this afternoon. Alright, bye."
Once I'd ended the call, I slipped my phone into my pocket before headed towards the sofa. Harry was curled up under one of Izzy's blankets, his legs right up to his chest, his gaze vacant and unfocused. He didn't even look up when I sat down.
"Denise has just dropped Izzy off, baby." I said softly, gently taking his limp hand. It was scarily cold, especially considering the blanket wrapped around him, but I tried my best to swallow the worry. Every time I'd had a bit of a panic at him the last few days, he'd shut me out completely, for at least a good few hours. And that was the last thing I wanted right now. After the paper incident, it almost felt like he'd been making good progress in the right direction. He seemed calmer, although not completely, and had even started holding my hand of his own accord, following me around the house whenever I was doing jobs. But I knew that was simply him wanting to feel safe, even if I wished it was more. I'd been trying even harder than normal to push away my dreams recently, desperate to just stay in the present with him, be here and take care of him as best I could.
"I'm going to pop out to the shop for some more detergent and a few other bits. I won't be more than twenty minutes though. Alright?" I asked softly, keeping my voice low and as gentle as possible. He stayed still, not even changing the pace of his breathing. I felt like an idiot for being hurt by his lack of reaction, but I was only human. Without another word, knowing it was no use, I got up, leaning down only briefly to kiss the back of his hand before heading into the hallway to get my converse. There seemed to be some sort of permanent deadweight in my stomach at the minute, right under my ribs, a feeling so tight that is was sometimes hard to even breathe. I'd been throwing up quite regularly this past week, but the guy from 111 had just told me it was stress related. Helpful, but then again, everything seemed like that right now. People tried their best to make things easier. But there was nothing easy about watching your husband suffer from a crippling mental illness. That, and I'm sure a lot of our friends thought he was just 'being dramatic' or 'girly' for a while, but when he started refusing to leave the house, telling them about how people were trying to kill him, they backed off. Suffice to say, I hadn't spoken to a lot of them in a while. Zayn and Liam were the only two guys who never had anything bad to say about Harry or even me. They'd been amazing and I just felt guilty that I couldn't put the time in with them right now.
"I want to come with you."
I physically jumped out of my skin, scooting back and staring wide eyed in the direction of the living room doorway. One of my laces was only half done up, my keys now on the floor after dropping them in surprise, but that was all forgotten when I laid eyes on Harry standing in the doorway. He'd left the blanket on the sofa, I guessed, and was now cowering just this side of the doorframe, his shoulders trembling a little as he took shakily deep breaths.
"Are you sure, pet?" I asked, picking up my keys and pocketing them, but not breaking eye contact once. He closed his eyes, nodding as he wrapped his arms around his torso.
"Don't want to be alone." He murmured, but I barely had a chance to register his words before he was approaching me, still hanging his head, like a child that'd just received a scolding. My heart burned for him.
"I'm here, it's okay. Of course you can come with me, baby." I nodded, gasping a little as he suddenly took my hand. I'm pretty sure I utterly forgot how to breathe for a moment. He just sighed, nodding and lowering his head to my shoulder. I hushed him a little, trying to make sure my body language was positive as I stroked my thumb over his knuckles. I'd read online that people suffering mental episodes of any kind benefited greatly from other's positivity, and, honestly, at this point I was ready to try anything.
"You gonna put your shoes on? Or do you need my help?" I asked, attempting desperately to make myself smile at him. He lifted his head from my shoulder and just stared. I wasn't even sure he was going to answer my question until he finally shook his head. I couldn't stop myself from sighing a little at the loss of contact when he let go of my hand, shuffling towards the shoe rack and then the bottom step of the stairs, so he could slip on his boots. After watching him meticulously, I forced myself to get back to the task at hand and finish tying my own shoes, moving towards the door and just waiting for him. He moved so slowly, like he was aching all over, and for all I was aware of, he was. But I would've waited forever for him, if I had to.
"Ready?" I near-whispered, smiling properly at him this time, as he came to my side again and grabbed frantically for my hand. I could feel that he was still trembling and it made my lungs tighten. It took him a minute, but eventually he was nodding, only tightening his grip a little when I unlocked the door and opened it for us. I watched his face as he stared outside, his eyes darting around frantically like he was trying to take in everything at once. But I felt my heart drop to my stomach when he started shaking his head furiously. He took a small step back, still clinging to my hand.
"Niall..." he murmured, the nerves so clear in his voice. It's so awful, but for a moment, I was genuinely distracted by how much emotion he'd spoken with – more than he'd had for over a month now. But I mentally gathered myself as much as I could, moving back with him so I was closer to his side, moving my free hand to shoulder, rubbing my fingers gently against his impossibly tense trapeze muscle.
"It's alright, baby. I'm here. We can just take it one step at a time, okay?" I soothed, feeling staggering relief when he started nodding his head instead, the movements much more controlled than before, but his eyes still fluttering around erratically in his skull.
"C'mon, that's it. You're safe, baby. I'm right here."
I kept talking to him, praising and reassuring him like it was all I knew how to say, for the entire journey from the house, to the car, to the store carpark and to the entrance. He stayed completely silent when we finally stepped inside the brightly lit store, practically pressing himself into my side as I headed for the cleaning products aisle.
"Right, so we need non-bio detergent for Izzy, then we need some toothpaste, toilet paper and I was going to grab some fruit for her lunches."
I was pretty much talking to myself at this point, but from the feel of how tight he was holding my hand, he was calmer when I kept babbling. The whole time we wondered around the aisles, sharing the weight of the products I needed, I rambled on. It was all complete, nonsensical bullshit, but his posture had relaxed considerably from when I'd started blathering away, so I knew I had to give credit to myself for that. Maybe I really was helping him get better – fuck it, maybe everything was actually going to be okay. I hated getting my hopes up, but I really couldn't seem to help myself. It all just seemed so much better now.
"You want to go to self-service?" I asked, knowing the answer before I'd even opened my mouth. But he nodded anyway, actually shooting me a glance and nearly making me drop everything I was holding with my free arm.
"The people will hurt me," he whispered, leaning a little closer to my ear – my tongue felt like lead in my mouth, "they want to kill me, I can see in their eyes."
He shook his head for a moment, glancing around fleetingly and with nothing but terror on his face. Fuck. My throat felt tight, like it was closing in on itself to punish me for being too hopeful. I could see, feel, how much he was tensing up again. I knew I was a fucking fool for thinking things were already becoming normal, because of course they weren't. But it still hurt.
"You won't let them hurt me?"
When he looked back to me, the broken, terrified look in his dull green eyes about broke me. I just wanted to cry. My poor, sweet baby.
"I would never, my love. They won't touch you, I swear." I shook my head, letting out a sigh of relief when he lowered his shoulders a little, nodding at me and attaching himself to my side again. I didn't mind him there though, in fact, I had no qualms about it at all. I loved the human contact with him. That and it distracted me from what a complete moron I'd been only 30 bloody seconds ago. Every single time he showed even a glimmer of his old self, I latched onto it like a fucking limpet, and then each and every time I was unnecessarily and irrationally disappointed when he shut himself off again. I was a fucking stupid fool. I paid for the stuff, reluctantly buying a bag because I'd forgotten to bring one of our woven ones with me, leading Harry silently to the car. By this point, I couldn't even bring myself to talk. I felt like too much of a let-down for that. I was always expecting things from him that I knew he couldn't deliver, only to get depressed when it didn't work out how I wanted. I was a fucking child.
"Are you okay?"
I looked up in surprise as I started the car engine and locked the doors from the inside. He was watching me intently, his right hand still clasped to my knee where he'd decided to hold on whilst I was driving and couldn't spare a hand. I nodded a little.
"I'm fine, baby."
He appeared somewhat unconvinced, frowning at me as I pulled out of the parking space, still looking at him from the corner of my eye. We were almost back at the house when he finally spoke up again.
"You're mad at me." he stated, right as I pulled into the driveway, trying to stop the car as gently as I could despite how stunned I was by his statement. I gave him something of an incredulous look as I put the car in neutral, not even quite sure how to process my own emotions at this point. The idea that he thought I was in any way unhappy with him, made me want to fucking scream. I hated that I made him feel guilty, even if it was all in his head. I still felt painfully responsible.
"Harry, I'm not mad at you." I answered, as calmly as I possibly could. It felt like my heart was being torn right out of my chest, and I couldn't fucking stand it. He nodded, inhaling deeply, and far more audibly than usual.
"Make a promise."
He was practically whispering, and I honestly had no idea what he was talking about in any case. I wished, even just for a few minutes, I could get inside his head. Maybe then I could understand properly and actually be able to help him.
"What kind of promise, baby?" I asked, talking softly too and hoping that me playing along would make him talk. He was quiet for a moment, staring down into his lap and otherwise unmoving. But, then, he was suddenly leaning towards me, his lips coming closer to my ear than they had done in over a month now. It felt alien, and exhilarating, and I honestly had to fight to keep my body still.
"That you don't hate me," I nearly choked, "if you promise then they might listen."
"Who?" I asked, bizarrely intrigued despite how much he'd made me want to fucking die with his promise request. He sighed a little, and I felt his curls tickling my ear and neck just slightly before he was talking again.
"The voices in my brain."
Everything seemed to freeze in time. My breathing stopped, I'm pretty sure my heart stopped, my body utterly froze up. I could feel him looking at me, but I was stuck. Had he actually just confessed to me that he heard voices? As much as that notion was fucking terrifying to say the least, it was also a massive breakthrough. He hadn't ever spoken to me about anything remotely like this since his first episode.
"You hear voices?" I wheezed, determined to keep him talking, get as much information as I could. I nearly did a double take when he nodded.
"All the time," he whispered, "they're not happy."
I couldn't do anything but nod, once I'd finally regained enough movement to look at him. He went quiet after that, curling back into himself to the point where I knew he wasn't going to divulge any more information about these voices. I managed to coax him back into the house though – that was the easy part. He headed straight for the sofa again as I locked up behind us, and I could hear how heavily he was breathing before I'd even properly stepped into the room.
"You want to do anything else, today?" I asked softly, ignoring the shopping that had been left abandoned by the front door, just moving to sit beside him instead. It took him a minute to acknowledge me, and it fucking hurt, because I knew that it was him shutting me out. I wanted to shout, tell him to stop keeping me out like this because I was here to help him, even if no one else on the fucking planet cared about him, I fucking cared. But I didn't.
"No." he murmured, staring blankly ahead, the blanket now pulled up to his chin. I sighed a little, just nodding, making myself lean back into the sofa cushions properly so I could at least try and relax. I stole one more glance at him before turning on the tv, but he didn't even react. I guess that alone was just too much to ask.
***
"Are you sure, baby? Because you really don't have to. I won't be long at all and then I'll be back with Izzy and you'll be safe with us."
I was pretty sure I'd asked the same question at least six times in the last two minutes. But I needed to be sure. After a day of doing pretty much nothing but relaxing together, Harry had seemingly calmed down to the point that he'd just asked me if he could accompany me to fetch Izzy from school. Saying I'd been shocked would be something of an understatement to say the least.
"Need to be safe with you." he repeated, as he had done the last five times I'd asked him. I sighed – I guess I had to just accept it now.
"Alright, come on. That's it, pet." I pushed a smile onto my face, reaching out my hand to him, which he took immediately and tightly. He'd already put his shoes on again, another reason why he'd so relentlessly insisted on joining me even when I'd asked a billion times. Normally, I'd just walk to get Izzy, but I didn't want to subject him to that, so opted for the car. There was a surprising amount of parking spaces, but I chose not to question it, just pulling up and putting the car in neutral.
"You ready?" I asked, gently moving his hand from my knee into the grasp of my own hand. He nodded, staring intently out of the window, like a dog who'd spotted a squirrel. I helped him out of the car, almost having my fucking wrist crippled by how tightly he was holding onto me, but I just winced and powered on through. I could feel people's eyes on us as we walked into the playground, obviously recognising Harry, as he used to be quite prevalent in the community here, always wanting to support Izzy. It probably didn't help that it looked like he hadn't showered in his life, or that he was so skinny now that all his clothes hung off him like a skeleton. In his defence, he'd actually eaten one whole meal a day for the last two days, and I'd coaxed him into having a bath a few days back too. He only got in to begin with because I got in first. Further into the playground, I found an empty space to stand it, far enough away from anyone else that there was pretty much no chance of human interaction. I knew that would just fucking do it for him, and I was not ready to deal with a breakdown so far from home.
"You doing okay?" I asked quietly, watching him nod despite how wide his eyes were and how much his body was twitching. When I looked ahead again, I swallowed thickly at the sight of Izzy's class teacher on the other side of the playground. Her face lit up when she saw us, waving to me and almost looking like she was going to approach us. But with a quick shake of the head from me as I waved back, she stopped, just smiling sadly and nodding in what seemed like understanding. Before I knew it, all the little ones were starting to file out, standing with the teachers until they spotted their parents and they were allowed to leave. Obviously, Izzy's teacher had seen us, and so the second she reached the front of the line, a finger was pointed at us, before I watched my daughter move faster than I'd ever seen her move in my entire life. She practically fucking flew across the playground, a grin on her face that made her shine like the sun itself.
"Daddy! You're here!" she squealed. I cringed a little, in full anticipation of the gut wrenching disappointment that she was about to feel. But my whole body just went fucking numb, when he let go of my hand and crouched down beside me. I'm pretty sure my eyes popped out of my head.
"I'm so happy you're here."
Izzy's smile was so fucking bright, brighter than anything I'd ever seen, as Harry embraced her and she mumbled about how happy she was. I coughed a little, choking on the saliva in my throat as I watched them hold each other, so completely fucking stunned that a gust of wind might've sent me flying to the floor. He hadn't even fucking said anything, but it didn't matter. He was fucking hugging her. He was here, in the school playground with me, hugging our daughter and for a second, I was almost sure I saw him smile. This really was the stuff of dreams.
"Are we going home together, daddy?" she asked softly, as she released Harry, watching him with that glowing adoration that I knew and loved. He really was her entire world, and seeing how happy his improvement made her, was probably the best feeling I'd had in almost two months. I'd forgotten what it was like to be this happy. Harry didn't respond to her question, instead looking up at me. I could see the slight uncertainty in his eyes from a mile off.
"Yes baby. Together." I nodded to our daughter, loving the way her smile didn't falter for a second. Harry stood up straight then, taking my hand tightly again and shuffling closer to my side until we were practically moulded together. Izzy immediately moved to his other side, offering him her hand, and I swear to god my heart exploded when he gently took it, keeping her close to him as I led us out of the playground. The journey home was surprisingly easy too, Harry just staying quiet and keeping hold of Izzy's hand as she sat behind us in the backseat. I started on dinner as soon as we were back, calling Izzy in to help me cut up some vegetables after Harry had made himself comfortable on the sofa again.
"Thank you for making daddy happier, papa."
I almost chopped my fucking finger off when she spoke up softly, breaking the comfortable silence of the kitchen. Turning to look at her, I noticed how much she was smiling, not even taking her eyes off the carrot she was cutting.
"It's okay, sweetheart. That's all I ever want to do for him." I murmured, my heart starting to pick up its pace rapidly. She hummed softly, swiping the chopped carrots into the boiling pot beside her. Another thing that she'd become shockingly skilled in was cooking – she was honestly the best daughter a guy could ask for, even after everything she'd been through.
"I'm just happy he's getting a bit better," she smiled, glancing at me over her shoulder before picking up another carrot, "I know he's not normal yet, but he's more like daddy again, and it makes my heart happy."
I swallowed, the lump in my throat so thick that I could barely breathe. Maybe my little family was going to be okay, maybe even go back to being perfect again. I smiled weakly at Izzy, moving to her side and putting my arm around her gently. My heart was still broken, shattered, but it was so full. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt calm. I kissed the top of Izzy's head lightly, relaxing into the knowledge that, even if it took six more weeks, or more, for everything to be completely right again, it would all be worth it.
"Mine too, pet. Mine too."