Escape {Larry Stylinson/Doctor Who} NEW AU
I. Jack
My name is Harry Styles and I don’t matter.
Not to anyone.
That’s why I’m sitting in History class right now, daydreaming of something better. The future has to be better, right? I won’t be some loser college lad with no mates for the rest of my life. No, that isn’t possible. Somewhere down the road, I’ll find people who accept me. A job that will give me the freedom to support myself and get out of my mum’s house.
I hate living in fear. I hate that everyday, I go home to the possibility of being beaten. Mum’s always been like that; Violent. Once upon a time, though, I had the ability to escape to Niall’s house. He’d let me come over whenever. Now, though, when I need him most, he likes to pretend I don’t exist. They say not to invest yourself in only one person because they’re bound to let you down.
But, I never really had an option. Niall has always been my only friend.
I suppose it’s my fault anyway. If I wasn’t a fag, then my mum would be a little more bearable and I’d still have my best friend. But, I can’t help it, so I’m stuck with no one.
“Styles!”
My teacher calls me out of my daze impatiently. I look up and the entire class is looking at me. Everyone except Niall. He’s
staring at his book.
“Y-yes ma’am?”
I sit up straight and fold my hands on top of my desk.
“What was I just speaking of?”
I glance around at the eyes glued to me in annoyance. I shift my gaze to my textbook and search for a main topic that seems to stand out.
“Erm... You were teaching us about the French Revolution, ma’am.”
Everyone laughs (except for Niall, of course) and Ms. Hatch glares at me.
“Yes, Harry, that is the topic we’ve been covering all week. Right now, we’re discussing the rise of the French citizens against the
king. What was the 'tennis court oath'?”
She closes her book and leans back against her desk, obviously assuming that she’s tripped me up. I never come to class and
daydream without reading the material first, though. What else would I do at home anyway?
“The tennis court oath was made by a group of peasants who were accidentally locked out of a council meeting and thought that it
was on purpose. So, they made a makeshift meeting inside of a nearby tennis court, pledging to revolt against the king for their rights.”
She clears her throat awkwardly and opens her book again.
“Correct. Try to pay attention, Mr. Styles.”
I nod solemnly and turn the pages in my book so that I’m on the right one.
I do a better job of faking it for the rest of class and before I know it, the last bell of the day is ringing.
“Alright, class. I will see all of you on Monday. Have a safe weekend.”
I gather my things slowly, standing up to leave only once everyone else has already done so.
“Um, Mr. Styles. The counselor would like to see you in his office. I was told to give this to you after class.”
Ms. Hatch forces a polite grin and hands me a small pink slip of paper.
*Harry-
Please join me in my office after school... just to talk.
~Jack :)
Room 134*
I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a teacher, or counselor, put a smiley face on a hall pass. Or leave only their first name. I suppose I should find out what he wants.
“Thanks. Have a good weekend, Ms. Hatch.”
She nods and says nothing as I exit the room.
I walk down the halls as they’re emptying quickly. I follow the numbers as they go down. 142, 140...
“Hey, faggot! Where are you going?”
I hear laughter behind the deep, familiar voice. Faggot’s a new one and I hate to think that he knows something about me. The
name calling was enough when it wasn't personal. I turn around and come face to face with Jackson. He isn’t any taller than me, but he’s much more built.
“T-to the office.”
He’s never actually hurt me and I’m nearly positive that he only wants to intimidate me, but I know there’s always the possibility
that he’ll take a swing. He takes a step back, though, and I’m able to see around him. On either side of him are the twins, Carson and Mark, his two accomplices. They’re always with him.
But, behind them, is the one person I never thought could betray me so harshly as to hang out with the guys who always pick on me.
“Niall?”
He doesn’t look up, staring at his feet as they shuffle along the glossy tile.
“Niall isn’t your friend anymore, loser. Get over it.”
My lips quiver and I fight the tears that are begging to surface. I refuse to cry in front of them.
“Alright, well, I have to go.”
I turn around before Jackson can stop me, scurrying past the last few doors before room 134. I check the plaque on the door before opening it.
J. Harkness
I hear footsteps behind me and slide into the large office before whoever it is can catch up to me. I begin to catch my breath as the door shuts behind me. The office is dimly lit and a handsome man with dark hair is sitting at the wooden desk.
“Harry, glad you could make it.”
I stand awkwardly by the door as he stares at some papers on the desktop. He's American. The accent's clear as day. I’ve never
seen him before.
Then again, I’ve never spoken to the school’s counselor. I still would assume I would have seen him around the school sometime.
“Please,” he looks up and smiles brashly, “Have a seat.”
He sets down the files he’s been looking at and clasps his hands together, motioning to the seat directly across from him. I stumble over, still feeling shaken up by my encounter with Jackson. Worst of all, Niall’s face continues to flash through my mind; ashamed and sad, but still standing on the wrong side.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Styles?"
No, everything is just fine. It's not like my mum hates me and my best friend dumped me because I was honest with him.
Everything's grand; why do you ask?
"I'm fine."
"Honest to him? About what?"
I scrunch my eyebrows and backtrack.
"I didn't say that bit out loud."
The man, Jack- I suppose, opens a drawer on the side of his desk and pulls out a brown leather flask.
"No. You didn't, did you," he swishes the flask and opens the cap, bringing it to his lips, "Just what the doctor ordered."
I sit up and set my books down on the seat next to me.
"I'm sorry, but who are you? How did you know what I was thinking?"
I'm also pretty sure that school officials aren't meant to drink on the job. But, that's the least of my worries right now. I'm starting to
wonder if he's even a real counselor.
"First things first; You've been having a tough time lately. Am I right?"
"Answer my questions!" I realize how loud I'm being and the fact that I'm gripping the armrests relentlessly, so I add a "...please."
I sit back and try to remain calm, which is difficult when you have a flirtatious man in suspenders reading your mind.
"Harry, my name's Captain Jack Harkness and I'm here to brighten your day."
"Don't be cheeky. You're avoiding the real question here. The important question."
Besides, no one cares about me.
"You'd be surprised. People do care about you... or will care about you. That's beside the point. You deserve to be happy, though,
Harry. Despite what you might think, you are important."
"You did it again! What's going on?"
I stand up, slamming my hands on the desk, not even earning a flinch from Jack. He leans his office chair back and takes another swig of liquor from his flask.
"In due time, Harry. Way too much for one sitting. In fact," he glances down at his watch, "I believe your mom will be expecting you home pretty soon. Try not to provoke her. I know that it doesn't seem fair right now, but things are going to get better for you."
He stands up and takes a long coat from the rack behind him, pulling it on over his dress shirt.
"You'll see me again soon, Harry Styles."
He winks, presses some buttons on his watch, and in a flash, he's gone.
As quickly as I can, I gather my things and make a bee-line for the door. As soon as my hand is on the knob, there's a cracking noise behind me, almost like a spark of electricity. I turn around and Jack is standing in the same spot again.
"I almost forgot... It's probably best that you don't tell anyone about," he points his finger back and forth between himself and me, "this."
And then he's gone again.
Now, I have more questions than ever and absolutely no way of getting answers. Not until Monday, at least. I'll come back to his office on Monday and find out exactly who he is.
I run the entire way home. It's only about a kilometer away from school, but Jack was right; If I'm home late, mum will be livid and probably- no, definitely- will take it out on me.
When I reach my house, I've got no idea what excuse I'll use and my thoughts are a jumbled mess. I unlock the door and step through it, leaning against the column just inside, feeling disoriented and exhausted.
"Harry! Is that you?"
I shut my eyes and try to take long, deep breaths.
"Yes, mum!"
"You're home late!"
I take one last breath and enter the living room, finding my mum laid out on the couch, a bottle of vodka nearly empty on the coffee
table.
"Where were you, you little twat?"
I clutch my books close to my chest and attempt a quick excuse.
"I-I had to, uh, go to the library. I have a history project and was looking for a specific book."
She rolls her eyes and massages her temples.
"I can't wait until you're eighteen and you can go get booze for me. You'll be good for something."
I swallow hard and stay standing where I am. If I leave without being dismissed, I'll only make things worse. Jack warned me not to provoke her.
Why am I taking advice from a man I don't know?
Either way, it's good advice.
"Well, don't just stand there. I'm sick of looking at ya."
I nod stiffly and walk off in relief to my bedroom. She was too done in to get off the couch and slap me around and I'm very glad about it.
Once I'm inside my room, I drop my books and backpack on the floor and collapse onto my bed.
I've had the weirdest day of my life and there's entirely too much going on in my head. I'm in desperate need of a good nap. Sleep
is the only escape from my dreadful life; especially with all of these new, complicated ideas. There's one thing Jack said that I continue to repeat to myself until I drift off:
People will care about you; you are important.
This story is awesome. I love Doctor Who
3/27/15