Coming Home

When you stick your head underwater your body will fight. Your mind will want to take control and force you to lift your head.

And there comes the point where your lungs will begin to burn and your mind will start to cloud. That's when you know you've had enough. That its time to raise your head and fill your chest with the air you've been denying it.

That's how I feel right now.

The only difference being I wasn't surrounded by water. I wasn't trying to break a record. I wasn't trying to prove anything.

I was cut off guard. My mind had attacked itself and in the process my body went crashing down faster than a fire destroying a town.

"Hi," that voice is the match that started the fire. The reason I'm burned, "hi-- oh, thank God you're awake." And that's all I need for me to know Ben had already spilled eevrything. That Harry knew everything I've been trying to hide.

"I'm fine," my voice comes out like a weak and tired mumble, "Ben? Where's Ben?" Disappointment clouded his features as he sucked in a shaky breath and reached over to grab my hand.

"He's on the phone with your doct-- why didn't you tell me?" Like before he couldn't finish one sentence. Instead he said a completely different one before he could ever finish his first. My eyes were hazy, like I had just woken up after two nights of constant slumber. "Oh, brown eyes, I knew it wasn't just an upset stomach."

"That's all it is," I try, "Harry, I have a sensitive stomach. That's it."

"You have-- baby you take medication for it," if I could feel my body I would have reached over and pulled him into a hug. I would have swiped under his lashes and tried to make him feel better. I'd convince him that this was no big deal. Because it wasn't.

It was a sensitive stomach. And, okay, while I know no normal nineteen year old deals with this sort of thing, it's become my normal. It's not a big deal and I wish Harry would understand that.

"I don't have to," I rub my eyes and sit up with the help from Harry's hands. He shuffles closer and sniffles, "there's no reason for you to cry, Harry. Everything's okay. I'm okay and you're okay."

"You're a nineteen year old recovering alcoholic Presley! You're nineteen and an alcoholic!"

"I'm not the only one in the world," because I'm not and I suddenly feel attacked. This is why I didn't say anything. Why I don't announce to the world how fucked up I am. It's the main reason why I would have never of told Harry anything. He's just got lucky. "I'll be twenty soon?"

"Presley," he gives me a stern look and brings my hand up to his mouth, "you're prone to panic attacks?"

"No," I sigh, "it's more stress than anxiety. It tends to build and build until my mind gives up."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's not your business," because I don't want those looks he's giving me. Because I don't want him to pity me or be forced to hang around me. There are many reasons I can think of why I didn't tell him. "I was fine. My stomach hadn't been acting up and I didn't feel the urge to drink. I was calm. I was-- I am fine-- or I was and then Eleanor came by and Ben wanted to see you guys and-- I wasn't expecting you to come back, Harry. I had planned to go home in a month."

"I had to come back," my head pushes back startled. He kisses the back of my hand and heaves out a shaky breath, "there's so much I need to explain, so much I can't take back brown eyes."

"Please stop calling me that," I beg with my head down.

"I've always called you that."

"Harry," I don't mean to whimper and I'm half glad it comes out soft and quiet.

"I know," he whispers, leaning in and connecting our foreheads, "I'm going to make you better," he promises strong and clear, "I'm going to fix you."

"You can't fix the person you broke," it's out before I can take it back. And the thing is, I don't know if I want to take it back. Not even when Harry makes a horrible broken sound and his head is somewhere between my neck and shoulder.

"I didn't.., if I had known-- I shouldn't have left," Harry's crying softly, arms gently around me, "please let me fix you." His cries feel like knives and I'm so lost. I pat his back, trying not to wince or wonder how I woke up like a giant bruise that's still fresh and aching.

"I'm fine Harry. I don't need to be fixed. I just need to stop going on rides named The Zipper."

"You're trying to be funny about this," Harry picks his head up and wipes his eyes, "but it's not funny, Presley. This is serious."

"Okay, let's calm down now."

"This is all my fault."

"No. This is my fault. I was the one who drank. I am the one who got on the rides. I'm--"

"I'm the one who left," Harry's interruption wasn't incorrect. And maybe I should be blaming Harry. Maybe it was him who caused this. If he hadn't of left I'd be normal. We'd probably be married by now and... That's a very stupid dream that wouldn't have come true because we were bad already. Harry and I had grown worse over time.

"And Caleb died. It wasn't just you. There's Louis and my dad. Caleb. Don't be selfish and take all the credit."

"Why did the drinking start?" Why didn't I start sooner, is the easier question. Why had I waited so long to start something that helped me feel better for brief periods of time.

"Can you get Ben for me?"

"Presley--"

"Please?" Harry sighs dejectedly and stands. He shakes his head and follows with my request.
My body aches and my stomach is rattling. I think this is the part where my lungs are supposed to fill themselves with air. Where my chest will expand and exhale trying to save my body from an untimely death.

This is where relief washes over me, and it's terrible because the only thing I'm feeling is pure dread.

"Presley Jude," Ben sits next to me on the bed as Harry follows awkwardly behind, "haven't been this way for a while huh?" Ben's words carry no heat. They are merely soft and rough. "You gave me a scare that clowns are jealous of."

"M'sorry," I sigh curling into his side. And when I tilt my head to look at Harry he's looking down with a glare, hands clasped together. I don't have enough energy to deal with that. Or to follow through with the inevitable talk Harry will want to have.

"Dr. Sparks says you'll have to start your meds again," I open my mouth to protest when he cuts in, "only for a month okay? He said this was a warning and if that doesn't freak you out then please tell me now so I can slap you until it does."

"Is this life threatening?" Harry's raspy vocals ask.

"No," I tell him, "not at this age. Who knows about the future."

"Presley," Harry's whimper is stronger than I'd like to admit. And Ben can sense that as he pulls away from my confused limbs and nods towards Harry to take his place.

Okay.

They switch spots, as Harry lays down and then gently pushes me toward his side as Ben watches from the recliner, "brown eyes please do what the doctor says. Please. I'll get on my knees if I have to."
And how am I supposed to deny anything when I'm asked that way?

"Okay Harry just breathe okay? It's only a minor glitch."

"I don't like this," Harry mumbles with a broken voice.

"It's life," Ben says from his spot, "you don't have to like it. You just have to get through it."

Harry's arm tightens slightly around me as he nods, "and we will. She'll be good as new soon. I'll see to
it."

I can't tell him that's impossible. Because I don't know if it is. It feels that way but Harry looks hopeful and I've never been one to take that from him. Not from Harry. Never.

"Good," Ben utters standing, "can I have a minuet with her?" Harry looks reluctant but nods and drops a kiss to my head before walking away.

Once the door is shut Ben resumes Harry's spot and sits down.

"Why are you being so friendly with him?" It's almost as if Harry and Ben are new people with each other, "how long was I out?"

"I'm doing it for you," he states simply, "while you were dead to the world we had a very enlightening chat and let's just say I understand. I don't agree necessarily but I understand." Ben is confusing me more by the minuet. Almost as if he's speaking a whole new language. "You love him and because I love you I'm going to let you do whatever it is you think you should do. I'll be here for you and I'm going to help you be happy again. Whether that's with Harry or someone else."

"I-- Ben..." Ben smiles down at me and winks.

"Don't worry about the insignificant details," and that's a nicer way of saying Jasmine (who returns in eight days), "go with the flow okay?"

I don't know what to say, "okay," I murmur instead. Ben kisses my cheek and gets up, he whispers something to Harry and walks out.

"You've got a check up tomorrow," Harry informs me while laying down, "we're going to get you the best medicine--"

"This isn't cancer, Harry. It's a stomach glitch. Please calm the fuck down."

"I'm calm," he promises, "let's nap okay?"

"Together?"

"I'm not leaving you so don't insist," Harry says stubbornly reaching for the blanket and covering us. "Let's nap and we'll talk after."

And I don't think I want to talk after. I don't think I want to go get a check up either.

Notes

Yass xx