"You can't keep calling."

"I'm worried. How are you? Are you safe?"

Zayn laughed dryly at the concept. "I'm fine, Liam. Seriously though, you have to stop calling. Its, its not safe for you."

Zayn was curled under the blankets, head tucked underneath, phone pressed to his ear. Louis and Harry were on the couch in the living room watching some romantic comedy Louis will refuse to admit he actually liked later.

Liam had been calling the entire week they'd been back. Hadn't stopped calling really. Zayn tried not to be flattered, failing miserably. But Liam didn't understand. They were being watched so closely right now. There was a mission sitting on the coffee table, untouched for days, and they were pointedly ignoring the danger of that. By now Zayn was sure Headquarters had caught on to Liam's calls and found out that Zayn gave him a phone number he shouldn't have while on the job.

"Nothing in my life has ever been safe, Zee." Zayn's faced stretched involuntarily into a small smile at the nickname. "But I have to make sure you are."

"Why?"

Through the phone Liam sighed, heavy and burdened, "I don't know. I just- Zayn please tell me you're alright. How badly did Albert hurt you?"

Liam had been asking the same questions every night when Zayn couldn't resist anymore and answered his call. But Zayn couldn't bring himself to tell Liam how the burns were peeling now, how a few had already started to turn into scars, how he woke up in the middle of the night screaming with memories and Louis would come running in ready to soothe. Because Liam was the only light in a dark part of Zayn memory and he refused to be the one to dampened such a bright thing.

"I'm fine. Really."

"I don't believe you, but yeah, okay. I'm guessing you're not in Germany anymore."

"No."

"I figured as much. I don't even understand why you here in the first place. You showed up, stayed a couple weeks, killed somebody I assume, and disappeared on me."

On me. Like Zayn left Liam specifically. He almost missed the part were Liam accused him of murder. Which...

"I don't know what you're talking about, Liam, but you should stop."

"I'm not saying he didn't deserve it. You did what you had to, I know. I'm not going to turn you in or anything, but the investigation is going strong here. You killed a very important person, Zayn."

Zayn's lips pinched in rebellion, "Stop saying that. Stop talking about it. Stop calling."

"I'll stop calling when you stop answering."

Zayn let that hit him. He was keeping Liam attached. It wasn't safe for him to have any sort of contact, much less nightly phone calls, but for all the danger he couldn't seem to cut the ties. "I will."

"Please don't," came Liam's soft plea.

Zayn sighed and curled in on himself more, stretching the skin on his back but curling tight nonetheless. "Li," he breathed.

"Yeah." It wasn't a question but an answer. Liam knew. He knew exactly what Zayn wasn't saying.

"Tell me something about you," Zayn requested.

There was a heavy pause where Zayn thought Liam might laugh at him, but then he said, "I like cherries a lot."

"Cherries, really?" Zayn's contained smile spread now, covering his face. "Do you like cherry flavored stuff?"

"Oh yeah, pie, icecream, yogurt-"

"Lube?"

The abrupt silence had Zayn cursing himself widely inside his head. What the hell was that? It just slipped. A joke. Something he'd say to Louis.

"One of my favorites, actually. Followed closely by strawberry."

Zayn's mind wandered without his permission, head filled with images of Liam tasting him, licking over his skin, humming at the flavor.

"Zayn? You still there?"

Zayn shook his head clear. "Yeah, sorry. What'd you say?"

"Nothing, it's not important. What's your favorite food?"

Zayn couldn't believe this is where they were. Making small talk about their favorite things like Zayn wasn't this close to be killed off and taking Liam with him by association.

"I'll eat anything."

"Oh come on. Everyone has a favorite food."

Zayn rolled his eyes, "I really like grilled lemon chicken."

"Hmm, that sounds so good."

Zayn relaxed on the bed on his stomach, the blanket coming down to his shoulders while he squished the phone between his ear and the pillow. "It does. Maybe I'll make Louis and I some."

"I don't like him much." The words tumbled out like Liam hadn't meant to voice them.

"Louis?"

"Yeah. I don't like the way he controls you."

Zayn couldn't help the real laugh that flooded from him before he shoved his face into the pillow to muffle the noise so Louis wouldn't come in. When he'd settled again he answered Liam, "Louis' not the one that controls me. He's my partner."

"Oh. Your partner," Liam said the words regretfully, "I thought he was like, your boss, I guess. I didn't know he worked like you did. Why wasn't he at the building too then."

Zayn didn't know how to explain that he wasn't actually a prostitute - all the time...anymore - without opening up a hundred unanswerable questions.

"He was working somewhere else."

"Oh. Well he acts like he's got more power than you. And he doesn't Zayn. No one controls you but you."

Zayn mentally scoffed at that idea before trying to placate the golden-eyed boy. "I know, Li. But really Louis is my best friend and the best thing that ever happened to me." Liam didn't answer for a while and it was Zayn's turn to try and get his attention back. "Liam?"

"I'm listening. I just wish you hadn't left so quickly. I hated this place before you came, but now that you left its like hell."

Was Liam saying his life was hell without Zayn? Zayn surely heard him wrong. "You're okay though, yeah?"

"Same as always I guess. Fucked every night, fucked over every morning."

Zayn snarled, remembering the sounds he heard through the wall of Liam with other men. "I wish-" he stopped before he said something he'd regret.

"You wish what?" Liam prompted.

"Nothing. I just don't wish our life on anyone, ever. But you definitely don't deserve it."

"Neither do you."

"I know." He did know, but that didn't change the facts. And he was pretty sure Liam felt the same way. The sounds of the television stopped and the floorboards creaked. "I have to go."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. Sorry," he said even though he didn't owe Liam any apology.

"It's okay. I'll call tomorrow."

"Don't."

"I will. Night, Zayn."

"Goodnight, Liam."

The door creaked open and Zayn kept still, eyes closed, in hopes it was Harry checking on him and not Louis because Louis knew what Zayn looked like asleep and it wasn't this. But the door shut quietly and Zayn let out a long breath. He buried his face in the pillow and repeated the sound of Liam's voice in his head again and again until he drifted to sleep.