Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.

Louis is angry.

Louis has been angry for almost three days now.

Louis should have known really, but instead is surprised when his twitter feed blows up in the run up to the show. The Z word the recurrent theme as his thumb scrolls and scrolls until his eyes are red and sore. Until the screen is cracked and his eyes swim with tears. And Louis kind of enjoys the surge of anger as it stains his cheek red and pulls at the logic of his brain because Louis hasn't felt the thud of his heart beating so strongly for a long while. Louis feels alive in his anger.

So Louis bites back because Louis has never been very good at keeping his lips buttoned together. From the very first day Louis has let his words come tumbling from his lips without a second thought of their impact. And despite all the differences the five years have bought with them, that it one same that will always live at the very core of Louis Tomlinson. So when Liam comes to keep him company, Louis frowns because Liam has always been the first to scold him. And Louis hates being lectured, carries the words around like bricks on his shoulders, slumped and scowling. Liam talks and sings and fills his room so that there is no space left for misery or self pity and he hands back the phone he had confiscated from Louis three days earlier. It reminds Louis that there is more to life than letting anger fuel his fire and he remembers how it feels to let his cheeks bulge into a smile. But despite it all, Louis understands that Liam has forever had a hand upon his shoulder and Louis knows he would have veered off course if it weren't for Liam so he tosses him a pillow and cracks open two beers because sometimes all friends need is a cold bitter taste to bring them back together. And Louis can't help but wonder when they all started drifting apart in the first place.

All Louis longs for is the heat of a cigarette in his chest against the backdrop of the winter air as the ball bounces between his feet and the wall. And Niall looks at Louis with those big blue eyes that make Louis forget that anger and upset and betrayal were ever feelings that had blurred the edges of his vision. So when Louis flicks the ball at his feet towards Niall, the richness of his laughter warms the coldness that pricks at Louis skin and Louis wishes he could wrap himself up in a blanket of Nialls humility. It makes Louis wonder why he had rejected Niall's name as it lit up his phone screen three days ago because Niall had always had all the answers without saying them out loud and Louis could kick himself, rather than the ball between them, for forgetting that. Just like everyone else, Louis had slipped too easily into underestimating his Irish friend. Louis relaxes as Niall ruffles his hair and tells him he looks like he's swallowed a wasp. Because Louis didn't like the taste of the black and yellow insect and neither did Niall and Louis would hate to be the reason Niall stopped smiling because Niall had a smile that could move mountains.

But it angers Louis most that Harry acts as though he's not bothered in the slightest. But Louis is sure that Zayn has always known how to slice into Harry's skin. Words like razor blades with neat incisions because Zayn has always been a perfectionist. Words that burrow into the insides of Harry's skin, the barbs growing like weeds until Harry is too weighed down to carry on putting one foot in front of the other. But Harry says he doesn't care and Louis can't understand why not. So he’s avoided Harry since then and Harry knows it and Louis grits his teeth as he wonders how Zayns departure has bred a cavernous gap between he and Harry when Louis thinks it should have done the opposite. And Louis misses his friend and their pre show rituals and realises that it isn't just anger that reminds him of the beating bulb of his heart. So Louis is still angry and Harry still isn't bothered. Until Harry is bothered Louis won't stop being angry.

So Louis is glaring, eyes furrowed together and an expression he had already planned to blame on the intensity of the lighting should anyone question him - he’s always been good at that, coming up with lies to avoid the truth. He’s glaring at Harry. Glaring at him swanning around the front of the stage in his too tight jeans and billowing patchworked shirt. The sway of his pendulum hips makes Louis want to push him off to fall into a sea of nameless faces; the bounce of his hair makes Louis want to take a razor to it in the middle of the night - buzz a line right down the centre. Then he would be bothered Louis thinks. Then things might not be so different he thinks.

He thinks Harry must be able to hear his thoughts, despite the fact Louis couldn’t be further away from him on the stage, because his glossy green eyes turn to land directly on him. It is then Louis realises he has missed his cue, the words he should have been singing fading into nothingness and Harry is grinning - that big boyish smile that deepens the divets in his cheeks and showcases those big rabbit teeth. That secret smile that had once upon a time been reserved only for Louis. And it makes Louis laugh, wondering how he could ever have been angry at Harry for almost three days. Louis wonders how he ever let himself believe Harry wasn’t bothered. Harry was always bothered and that made Louis angry more than anything else.

But then it is warm, oh so warm like the familiar heat of Harry’s enveloping hugs when they were able to do that without a million judgemental eyes. A time when their friendship was nothing but simplicity. Louis feels the heat before he sees it. And it’s almost beautiful he thinks, when it finally comes into sight, like fireworks mottling the sky on bonfire night.

Louis doesn’t think it is beautiful when Harry disappears and the screams erupt.

Louis doesn't think it is beautiful when he realises things will never be the same again.

Chapter Text

Niall is okay.

Niall wonders when he accepted that he was okay. Niall wonders if it is a delayed reaction because Louis told him it might be and Niall has always trusted those around him. And despite the crumbling ruins around him Niall is okay and he thinks it is fine to just be okay when others are not even when Liam tells him it’s okay to not be okay and even when Harry tells him it’s okay to be better than okay because that is what Harry would like to be. Niall is happy just being okay.

So he prepares for the show just the way he always would. Except Niall does feel okay but he also feels off balance; like he is walking around with one leg shorter than the other. Niall spends a long time wondering what it is he has forgotten because that is how he feels and he is okay with forgetting something as long as he knows what it is he’s forgotten. He is on the side of the stage, arms wrapped round himself swaying to the warm up act and the soft melodic beat as he wonders what is okay but not okay about this evening. Liam is beside him and they nod and Niall thinks that must be universal sign language for okay until Liam asks him where all his words have gone and Niall thinks maybe he left them with Harry. But Niall explains he is okay because Niall doesn’t like to worry anyone and especially not Liam because he can be all too serious. Even so Niall explains the imbalance that is sitting like a heavy weight across his chest and Liam just smiles. Niall thinks it is nice to see Liam smile because that means he is okay and that must mean their is nothing to be concerned with because Liam would know. Liam always knew.

Niall thinks a lot about Harry and the things they do together to feel okay. Niall always eats with Harry because they like the same foods and eat at the same pace. Louis would rather a cigarette than a solid meal whilst Liam could usually be found with a protein shake. Niall is always particularly okay when he and Harry enjoy sausage and mash and when Harry pushes his tummy out and explains he can’t eat anymore but that’s okay because he enjoyed it. And Niall wonders as the words continue to spill from his lips when Harry started to not be okay and how he hadn’t noticed. So Niall decides he needs some silence when he lights the candles in Harry’s room hoping to listen to the beating of Harry’s heart so that Niall can make him okay again. And Harry hugs him long and hard and tenderly and Niall feels off balance again and wonders why Harry’s arms wrapped around him and a face full of Harry’s hair makes him want to cry and when, even with Harry in his arms, it began to feel like his friend was slipping through his fingers.

Louis is not okay as he kicks a football at a wall outside in the car park as he sucks from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. Niall wonders if it is okay for Louis to be out here alone and if it is okay for Louis to kick the ball so hard at the wall he might knock it down and if it is okay for someone who relies on their chest and their lungs and their throat and their tongue and their lips to make a living to smoke as much as Louis does. But Louis kicks the ball so that it skids towards Nialls feet and he smiles because Niall likes the feel of the roundness of his cheeks and the air on his teeth and it shows he is okay. He smiles more when he kicks the back and Louis smiles because not even Louis can frown forever.

And Niall is watching him as Louis throws his head back and laughs the way he used to before all the column inches weighed him down like anchors to a seabed. But Niall knows this is not okay and Louis should no better than to miss his cue and Liam will tell him off and explain the importance of balancing fun with professionalism whilst Harry will distract the crowd from the mistake the way he used to do when he always came to the rescue before he was different. And this is Nialls favourite song in their set so a little bit of him is disappointed that the words aren't flowing and the chords don't quite sound right and even the crowd seem to have forgotten the words and Niall knows that hasn't happened since the early days.

Niall fixates on Louis' glass blue eyes reflecting nothing but red and it is then that Niall accepts he is not okay and none of them are okay and the words stuck in Louis' throat are the least of their concerns. And Niall knows then what the imbalance was and that he hadn't forgotten anything after all because the people who are the most important to him are right next to him on that big wide open stage. But he smiles. Niall smiles in the hope he will be okay again soon despite the fact the four of them will never be the same again.

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Harry is different.

Harry feels different. He looks different. He sounds different. And Harry wonders when he started becoming different, when he will stop being different and what being different really feels like. Harry wonders whether the turning tide will ever stop and if he will ever find his equilibrium, his wholeness, his centre because they are all the things his self help books have told him to find. Maybe that is when he will stop feeling so different.

Harry isn’t sure whether people are different to him because he is different or whether he has become different as a result of people being different towards him. Some things feel the same but are not. Eating spaghetti bolognaise with Niall before the show is the same but different. It is easier with Niall because Niall does lots of talking which drowns out the words in Harry’s head and Harry has always loved the warm lilt of Nialls accent reverberating against the plates of his skull. But Niall asks more questions than he used to, about thoughts and feelings and the impending black hole they are on the cusp of jumping head first into and Harry doesn’t like the way Nialls words burrow under his skin to grow like weeds. So Harry asks for Nialls help because some things are the same but different and he leads Niall to his dressing room and asks him to light some candles. Niall says yes because Harry is his friend and stops asking questions even when he sees that Harry’s hands are shaking too much for him to do it himself.

It is different that Louis has not barged through his door as if it his own. But that difference was feeling more like a same and Harry had to wonder whether this difference wasn’t a difference after all. He plays the sound of rain because Louis always liked rain and Harry liked when Louis liked things. It was a same that felt different now there was no Louis to share it with. Harry even leaves the sound of windpipes and rain droplets behind him to go and stand outside Louis door and Harry wonders whether splinters would jar into his knuckles if he knocked and whether Louis would still be the person to pick them out with his nails one by one. Harry spends a long time staring at what could be and wonders how one mind can be full of so many thoughts and feelings and thinks this is how it must feel when a fish tank is full and the glass begins to crack. Harry hears Louis laugh from behind the wedge of wood and the laugh is the same but different because it is not Harry that caused it so Harry returns to his room and switches off the light in hope his brain will do the same.

Liam finds him in the darkness which is the same but different because Liam used to fix him with all the right words but Harry knows now that there is nothing to fix and Liam is silent. And Harry wonders when that happened that Liam stopped having all the answers to all of his problems and thinks that must have been the same time as when he started to be different because Harry missed when that was too. But Liam always knows Harry thinks and it is comforting to have a same that is still a same, Liam always has an eye on little Harry because he is the youngest and he is sensitive and he is naive. And Harry wonders how he never quite realised just how much he relied on Liam’s watchful eye to keep him away from the darkness but understands Liam must have blinked a fraction too long when Harry fell into it this time. And it is the same when Harry rests his head in the crook of Liam’s neck and feels the energy expel from his shoulders but it is different because there has never been so much open road in front of them and Harry’s head is thumping and he wonders why Liam won’t get a map out.

And he wonders if he has found himself again as he searches for Liam’s face, his back to the crowd as though they never existed in the first place. And so maybe he won’t feel different anymore. And he smiles because he finds Liam’s face but Liam is falling, but Harry realises Liam isn’t. It is him that is falling. And for a moment Harry is content with the feeling of his feet not touching the floor because Liam always keeps an eye on Harry, especially since he has been different. But Liam isn’t looking at him and that is different which must mean Harry might finally feel the same again.

Harry doesn’t have long to think about being the same.

Chapter Text

Liam is tired.

Liam has been tired for the last five years. Liam is tired of keeping track of everyone, of Niall who is easily distracted, of Louis who is always late and of Harry who disappears. Liam is tired of looking after them and of always having to be the rationale, the sensible thinker, the father of the group. Liam wonders how they would cope without him as he checks in on them all before the show.

Louis is still stomping around like the brat he is, face nothing but a grimace, wearing his annoyance like a sandwich board for the world to see. He’s never subtle Louis and it is Liam these days tasked with talking him down. It used to be Harry, it would always have been Harry and Liam ponders Just how quickly things can change as he goes into Louis' dressing room without knocking. Even when Louis grumbles and throw a pillow at him Liam smiles, he smiles because he loves the boys like his own - even if they do make him tired. Even if Liam wants to turn Louis upside down and shake out his pockets until his anger pours out. He hasn’t taken the hiatus well, Liam remembers. So he sits on the sofa beside him, hits him on the head with the pillow and asks him for a game of fifa. Fifa fixes everything.

Harry is meditating. Harry is always doing something odd Liam thinks as he goes into his dressing room. The lights are off, the curtains drawn and the only light comes from vanilla scented candles set up in a circular formation on the floor. He hears windpipes and the sound of rain and for a moment Liam contemplates the newspaper headlines when it gets out that Harry Styles has lost his mind. Harry holds his hand out to Liam and Liam takes it, joining him on the cool solid wood planks below. Harry rests his head on Liam’s shoulder and sighs. Not working, he says in that voice Liam rarely hears anymore. The voice of a sixteen year old Harry blinded by headlights. Can still hear myself think he says and Liam doesn’t say anything. Liam knows he doesn’t need to add anymore words to an already crowded brain when Harry is trying to pull them out one by one . Less is more he thinks as he curls his arm around Harry, tracing circles into his inked skin. Harry needs wrapping up in cotton wool he thinks, the world too dangerous for a heart like Harry’s.

Niall always smiles. When he laughs, when he is concentrating, when he is listening intently, when he is bored, when he is crying, even when Niall is downright miserable he smiles. Liam wonders whether he is physically able to do anything else. He is smiling when Liam finds him, he is listening to the support act on the side of the stage and he is smiling. Niall is always smiling. But Niall is not always quiet. Liam asks him why, funny feeling is the reply which should have set alarm bells ringing but didn't. And Liam loves that about Niall; that his biggest worries in life are menial. It’s what Liam thinks Niall deserves, to not be troubled or fearful or sad because Niall gives too much of himself to other people to have a hard enough shell to protect himself. His smile is too bright for anyone to ever let it dim. Liam thinks he would never be too tired to enjoy Nialls smile.

And Liam remembers Nialls trepidation, Nialls gut feeling that something is off. And Liam should have known then really that Niall is always right. Niall always knows and it is sensible Liam who should have made provisions. So it is Nialls beaming smile that he searches for first, when the sound cuts and is replaced with something so much more menacing. But even Nialls light isn’t enough against this darkness. And Liam should have known because Niall is always right and Liam wants to laugh because this is so much more than forgotten lyrics, even when Louis is gasping for the words to fill the silence and Harry is no where to be seen. These are lyrics they might never get to sing again. And isn’t it ironic, that Liam is the sensible, rationale one but he can’t move his feet from the floor and his mind swims in thick muddied waters and he can’t do anything to fix this.

Liam doesn’t know why he’s laughing and he doesn’t know why Niall is always right about these things.

Chapter Text

Zayn is cold.

Like the layers of his skin have been peeled back one by one until he is nothing more than flesh and bone. Like he has been submerged into ice cold water until the breath expels from his body in a too tight chest. Zayn is shivering or maybe he is shaking, he can’t quite be sure as the flecks of his skin raise into tiny pimples as though the multitude of regrets that once sat on the tip of his tongue are trying to escape through his pores. And Zayn is gasping for oxygen as though still fully submerged under water as his fingers clutch at the material of his shirt where his heart should be. And Zayn is sure his lips must be blue and his eyes must be bulging.

And he is trying so hard to make out the shapes on the television set and is straining to hear the stream of words but the coldness has frozen him. His eyes won’t focus on images too painful to see and his ears just ring in recognition of what was, what is and what could be. And his jaw is gaped open wide, mouth dry, lips chapped as though Zayn would never have the words to speak again. And Zayn wonders how his heart and his head will ever contemplate this kind of catastrophe.

It isn’t until he feels hands on his shoulders that spin him into form an embrace that the shakes grow to full body convulsions as he sobs for the place he should have been, the course his life should have taken. But they aren’t the firm and familiar hands he is craving to shake him from his sleep to tell him all is well and none of this is real. And Zayn is not only crying for the now, but of being the only one to remember the what was and for being the only one who could be the what if. And he feels hands on his face, swiping away the tears drowning his cheeks and they are shaking him and pointing but things still don’t make sense. And Zayn wonders if they ever made sense in the first place and if they will ever make sense again.

But finally Zayn accepts and he knows that terrible things have happened and terrible things will continue to happen as the inferno rages on and glass sprays like snow on Christmas morning. But this is no gift and Zayn sinks to the floor and thinks of those four best friends he has pushed further away and he thinks of those thousands of people who didn’t deserve any of this. And Zayn wonders when evil arrived on his doorstep and wrenched his heart from his chest still beating and how he will ever carry on without it. And Zayn wonders why the sound of the four names he wishes to verbalise cut like razors through his heart and whether he can ever use those names to safety pin himself while again.

And whilst their world explodes Zayn understands that his world is imploding and he thinks it ironic that he could be so far away but still feel so close. But he knows his boys and as tears sting at his eyes he sinks his teeth into skin and he knows. Zayn knows the strength of their spirit, the gut of their fight and Zayn knows they will not give up. And Zayn knows to think anything different will be sabotage as he has always believed in the moon and the stars and in divine intervention and he hopes his boys think the same.

Because no matter how cold Zayn could get, the boys were always there to keep him warm.

Chapter Text

Niall covers his ears as the world falls down.

He covers his ears to drown out the sounds, the shouts, the incessant banging and the screams before he notices it is his scream that is loudest. Niall clamps his mouth shut , but the air still seeps from his lips frantic and ragged because Niall isn’t okay and there just isn’t enough air in the room to calm him. So he focuses his eyes, picking a spot like when he tried to balance on one knee, except there was no chance of balance here whether he concentrated or not. The blues of his eyes grow wider and wider at the smoke and the tears and the blood and the fire. So Niall does the only thing that he thinks might be ok and he flings his guitar and picks up his heavy legs.

Niall has never run off stage during a show before he thinks, but there is a first time for everything he remembers so that makes it okay. And Zayn ran off stage when his chest got too tight and Louis ran off stage when he was still nursing a hangover and Liam ran off stage when he couldn’t cross his legs any longer and Harry ran off stage when blood spilled from his nose and seeped into the beautiful cream of his silk shirt. And Niall smiles because he always does and because he realises then that there is a lot of blood again and it’s on more than just a silk cream shirt this time and Niall wonders where it has all come from and why his cheeks are wet with tears and why when he wipes them with his hands they get wetter with a hotter, sticker substance that looks vaguely like his own.

Niall covers his mouth the way he had covered his ears as he stumbles through darkness and chokes on the pillow thick smoke as he searches. And Niall isn’t sure what he is searching for as water sprays from the ceiling and alarms are sounding because his head is throbbing and Niall wonders whether the smoke has seeped into his brain and clouded his thoughts. All Niall knows is that he must keep moving because bad things are happening but it will be okay as long as he just keeps moving.

And Niall wonders where his friends are because they have to be okay. He thinks that Liam will be fixing things because Liam is sensible and rational but Liam also panics and squirms under the intensity of pressure and Niall feels his smile get heavier. And Louis must be finding who did this because Louis believes in justice and would be angry they have ruined the show but Louis was impulsive and reckless and did silly things and Niall can feel his shoulders tighten at the prospect. Harry will be rescuing because Harry breaks his heart into tiny pieces to sprinkle on others because he likes people to be happy but Niall wonders if Harry has run out of pieces to give and this feels very much like the darkness Harry is use to.

Niall isn’t smiling because his friends aren’t okay but he sees light and hears voices that are more than just screams and arms wrap around him and pull him toward cleaner air. And they are clutching his elbow and someone is running their fingers through his hair but Nialls ears are ringing and his vision blurs and he laughs because he still has no idea what is going on but that isn’t ok. These people didn’t expect him to laugh and their voices have hushed and he can feel their gaze and this is all going so horrifically wrong so he mutters four names that don’t include his own.