× Mercury

I arrived in Mullingar early the next morning; so early the moon was still bright in the sky.

The town Niall grew up in was the smallest town I had ever been to, but that wasn't saying much, I was born in Las Angeles after all. But the place was cute with its old buildings and pubs on every corner, broken neon signs and brightly colored houses with the Christmas lights still up. The sidewalks were deserted and the only cars I saw on the streets were the ones parked at the curbs.

I had given the cab driver the address Jace had texted me, and I now stood in front of a small, brick house with my duffle bag slung over my shoulder. It was a two-story home with a little patio jutting out from the front door that wrapped around the corner. It looked really homey with the soft red of the bricks complementing the snow on the ground, and the white windows and doors were bright and welcoming.

I rang the doorbell and hoped for the best.

The second my finger left the bell, I started to panic. What if this was the wrong house? What if no one was home? I wouldn't have anywhere to stay. I could always go to the hospital and see if they were there, but that would only get me so far. I wasn't family, but I would always lie and say that I was cousin. Or maybe-

The knob turned and the door opened.

It wasn't Niall.

The guy at the door looked tired and utterly annoyed that he was disturbed so early in the morning, and I didn't really blame him. He looked to be a few years older than me with short brown hair and an athletic build. He was wearing plaid pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt.

"Uh, is Niall here?" I asked, hoping this was his brother and not some random dude.

The guy looked at me oddly, but then something must have clicked because then he ushered me inside. But I didn't move. If this wasn't his brother, then I wasn't taking the chance of entering some stranger's house.

"Yes, he's here," he told me with a friendly smile. "I'm his brother, Greg."

That was enough confirmation I needed to step through the threshold. The inside of the house was just as homely as the outside. The wooden flowers were a deep mahogany and the walls a nice cream color. Pictures frames, books, and knickknacks were on every flat surface.

"You must be Lynn," Greg spoke again, walking behind me as I took in the living space. "I don't know anyone else with an American accent that would be at my door."

"Lynn?" I spun around and saw Niall at the top of the stairs, looking at me like I was a ghost. I watched as he slowly made his way down the steps. "What are you doing here? How are you here?"

My heart did a little jump in my chest when I saw him. Niall looked exactly the same when he left me in his room. His hair was a mess and he was in sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was evident that he hasn't been sleeping well and it was more than likely had to do with his own mind not wanting to shut off. Even in the dim lighting of the living room I could see that his eyes were dark with anger.

"Jace," I explained softly. "He told me about your mom's second attack and I came as soon as I could."

"I told you not to come," he chided, stepping off the last step. "I specifically said to stay in London."

I really thought the breakthrough would come when I showed my face in Mullingar, but the shutters came down and his emotion were walled off behind a mask of coping. The only thing I was clear on was that he wasn't too happy to see me, and that upset me a little.

"Jace said you didn't sound too good on the phone," I pressed. "I know you don't get along with your mom, but she's in the hospital and you're scared."

"I'm fine."

Looking at his appearance again, I shook my head. "Niall, no you're not."

He ran his hand through his long, messy hair three times in quick succession and fixed his stare at me that could have frozen the Pacific. "I'm sorry you came all the way here, but you need to go back. I'll pay for the tickets, just please... go home."

I stood my ground. The arguing had a dull exhaustion to it; we've been over the same bitterness too many times before. Whatever was making him push me away wasn't going to win. I know that when tension is high I should inject compassion instead of anger, give him an olive branch instead of hostility, but sometimes it just wasn't that easy with Niall.

"Why is it when a little piece of your sensitive side starts showing you block them off?" I asked apprehensively. "Is being worried about your mother too feminine for you or something? You're being defensive and you don't even know why."

"For God's sakes, Lynn," Niall snapped. "I'm fine."

"You're just going to kick me out?" I asked. "Why? Why are you pushing me away!?"

"Because I don't want you here!"

Anger boiled deep in my system. I traveled all this way and he couldn't even tell me why he didn't want me there. He had said it was because of the media portraying us the wrong way and to do what Coach had lined up for the team, but there wasn't any more interviews or media coverage until the game.

"What do you want me to do then? Sleep in the streets until I can take the next plane back?"

"I'm sure Greg will let you sleep on the couch until then. But you need to go. Coach wouldn't be happy that you're here when you could be practicing for the game instead."

I felt my knuckles involuntarily ball into fists. I was tired and fed up with his only excuse being Coach's dislike of the situation. We already established he wouldn't like it, and I thought I made it pretty clear that I didn't give a shit about that.

"We've done nothing but practice since New Year's," I said through clenched teeth. "If we lose on Tuesday, it's not because of lack of training."

"Lynn-"

"Why are you so goddamn stubborn about this!?" It was like my body was carbon dioxide and someone dropped a Mentos inside me because I exploded with rage. "Is it because it's your hometown!? You have secrets here you don't want to share?"

"Lynn, stop-"

"Is it because of Alina?" Niall made no reaction to my venomous voice, which only made me angrier to the point that I was willing to say anything to get an answer out of him. "I bet that's why she left you. Because you're so single-minded and relentless, isn't it?"

My words flew from my mouth like arrows and I knew instantly from the look in Niall's eyes that they'd hit their mark. He backed up, almost weightlessly, until he reached the bottom step again.

"You know what, Lynn, you're right," he said monotonously. "She did leave me, but not because I was stubborn."

The fight had completely drained out of him. The pained look on his face made me want to take back everything I just said, knowing there was more to the story than what he had told me. But we both have said some things since the time knowing each other that we would like to take back, and basing off experience, that was just simply impossible.

Niall's bright, blue eyes were the color of ice on a lake as he watched me closely. "She left because she committed suicide."

The silence that followed froze my heart. "Niall... I-"

He just shook his head. "Save it."

The sound of Niall bounding up the stairs and the slamming of the door was the only thing to be heard before the house became deathly quiet again. The argument replayed in my head over and over again as I stood there in the middle of the living room of someone else's house.

I didn't have the right to bring Alina into all of this. I never had the right to bring her up at all, especially in a way so demeaning. It just came out of my mouth. After he said he didn't want me there, I just got mad and picked the worse thing I could possibly say to hurt him. And it worked, but not in the way I wanted it to.

I started to the stairs, to tell Niall that I was sorry, but Greg spoke up before I had the chance.

"Give him a few minutes," he said from the couch. I had totally forgotten he was there, and then I felt embarrassed along with self-revulsion that he had to witness this. "Let him cool down."

Running my hand through my hair, I paced the small room. Greg was right; I should let him calm down before apologizing. If I went up there now, I knew the fight would still be in him and I didn't really want things to get any worse. Or more importantly, I didn't want any more hateful things being thrown around like they were glass, because they would make contact, and they would hurt.

"I'm sorry about this," I apologized sheepishly, breaking the silence. "I thought he would have changed his mind about my coming here once he saw me. But I guess I was wrong."

"Niall is very, uh, set in his ways," Greg responded. "Once he feels something, he doesn't really know how to let it go. He's also very secretive which doesn't shock me that he would be so unyielding. However, I'm surprised he told you about Alina at all."

The adrenalin from the row we just had wore off and I suddenly couldn't hold myself up anymore. I took a seat on the chair facing Greg.

"He didn't talk about her a lot," I told him, my breathing becoming regular again. "I- I was actually the one who figured out the story about her. But apparently not the whole story."

"You have to trust that there was a reason he didn't tell you everything," Greg continued. "Ever since Alina, he's always filtering through his thoughts and showing people what he wanted to show. It's a mechanism; a way of coping, I guess. He got hurt and he doesn't want that to happen again."

"Then I go ahead and hurt him."

"No, you didn't. What you said stung, but he'll get over it. What Alina did... I'm not sure he'll ever get over that."

Having someone you love commit suicide was a sure way to be paranoid of getting hurt. I didn't blame Niall for being so cautious and private. Knowing the truth about Alina opened up a new door into Niall's life and things started to make more sense.

We're all fighting our own battles and facing down personal demons, struggling to conquer our psyches and trying to become better people. We're all a little bit lost, a little bit inadequate, a little bit broken, and a little exposed. We're all worried that someone we love is going to discover our dark parts and then cease to love us. We're all desperate to cover our tracks. We'll do almost anything to hide the parts of ourselves that we think are impure and unlovable. We're all afraid to share what's going wrong, which was why Niall was pushing me away.

We're all holding onto secrets, but we're all still here, simply doing the best we can. And no matter how much it feels like it, we're never, ever alone. That was all I wanted Niall to know: that I was there for him; that I would always be there for him no matter what.

"Or at least... I thought he wouldn't, but that was before he told me about you," Greg added.

"What?"

"When Niall arrived a few days ago, he told me everything," he looked at me knowingly. "And I mean everything. The way he talked about you was the way he used to talk about Alina. Except this time it was a little different... stronger, more amorously."

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say to that, I wasn't even sure how I was supposed to absorb that information. What did that even mean?

I didn't get a chance to think about it more before Greg spoke up again.

"His room is the furthest one on the left."

Even if he hadn't of told me what room, I would have figured it out instantly; it was the only one with the door closed.

I stood in front of the door for a solid minute, trying to muster up the courage to face Niall. I was a monster, and maybe it was a good idea if I just left and went back to London... but at the very least, I owed Niall an apology.

The door was silent when I opened it, but the floorboards were not. When I stepped into the room, creeks were heard. The room was dark, the only source of light was coming from the soft glow of a nightlight plugged into the wall. The clock on the nightstand told me that it was almost four in the morning. Niall lay on the bed, his back to me. He could have been sleeping, but from the steady rise and fall of his breathing, I knew that he was awake.

I walked into the room and slowly climbed onto the bed beside him.

"I'm sorry," I said into the silence. My voice seemed to echo off the walls. "I didn't intend for this to happen."

Niall kept quiet and unmoving.

I slid down the bed until I was on my back, staring at the ceiling. "I never should have brought up Alina; it was wrong of me to do that," I whispered. "I know what it's like to lose someone you love, and knowing that should have stopped me from bringing them up in the first place. It's never justified to open up old wounds."

The room was almost ghostly with the amount of tension between us, and the silence Niall was keeping wasn't making it any better. In an attempt to break the pressure, I rolled over onto my side before I slowly trailed my fingers along his arm. When he didn't move, I took that as a sign and continued forward, wrapping my arm around his torso.

"I should have just stayed in London like you said," I continued.

I could feel his heartbeat against my fingers, the steady rhythm matching my own. I could smell his aftershave and see the silhouette of his lashes against his cheeks. His hair tickled my face, but I didn't dare move.

"Just... don't make me go back."

Slowly, I felt Niall move his hand and lace his fingers with mine.

× × ×

There was a knock on the door that was followed by a low groan from Niall beside me. I didn't know what time it was, but it had to be some time during daylight because the sun was shining through the window blinding me.

Another knock on the door and this time a voice came after. "Niall, Denise and I are going to the hospital, do you want to come?"

Beside me, Niall stayed quiet and I knew he had fallen back to sleep. He was lying on his stomach with his arms wrapped around a pillow, facing away from me. The duvet only went up to his waist and his shirt stretched across his shoulder blades. His hair was a mess from sleep and the sun was shining on him like God himself was gazing down on him.

"Niall!" The voice shouted on the other side of the door. From the sound of his name, Niall perked up and looked around. "Answer me! Are you coming to the hospital or not?"

Another groan left his lips as Niall looked at the clock on the nightstand and rubbed his eyes. According to the clock, we'd only slept for four hours.

"I'll go later," he responded in a rough voice.

"Is it okay if Theo stays here with you?" Greg asked. "He's still sleeping and I don't want to wake him up. We'll be back by lunch time."

"Sure," Niall said with a yawn.

Greg said a quick thank you and a few minutes later, the front door opened and closed, and the house was quiet once again.

Niall lifted himself onto his elbows and rubbed his eyes again before looking down at me. He didn't smile; he didn't move closer, he just looked at me like I was an inconvenience to him. His cerulean blue eyes were bright and tired, but they were also cold and stony and I knew that I wasn't forgiven from what I said last night.

Then, to my surprise, his hand came up to my face and he traced a finger along my bottom lip.

"I'm sorry for what I said last night," he said, totally taking me by surprise.

"For what you said?" I asked, my brows rising in question. "I think you have it backwards, Niall."

But he just shook his head. "I lied when I said I didn't want you here," he said, watching his hand as he drew his finger along my lip. "I wanted you here by my side; I wanted you to come with me when you found me in my room. I am afraid, but not because of what you were thinking, it's something else."

"Then what was the reason?"

"That's just it, Lynn, I can't tell you."

There are times when you push to get what you want, and there are times when you have to let things go for the better. This was one of those times. I knew if I pushed any further, we would just get into the same argument we had last night. If I let it go, there was a chance that he would bring it up on his own and explain himself. So instead, I changed the subject.

"You're using the night light I gave you for Christmas," I said, looking at the glowing, plastic soccer ball plugged into the wall.

Niall glanced at it before looking back at me, a shy smile on his lips. "Yeah, I..."

He trailed off, not bothering to finish what he was thinking. He didn't have to; I knew why he was using it. It was for the same reason why I slept in his shirt the other night.

"We're getting better at this, you know," Niall whispered before moving his hand away from my lips. "With communicating. If this was two months ago, you would have ran away and I would have avoided you for a week or two."

"A lot has changed in those two months," I reminded. I reached up and ran a hand through his hair. His blonde locks weren't very blonde anymore, and instead a dark gilded brown. It was only a matter of time he went completely brunette. "Who knew sex was the answer?"

"Me," Niall said with a cheeky smile. "I said that from the beginning."

I laughed and placed my palm against his cheek and pushed him away. He grabbed my hand and held it in his, the smile on his lips fading and his eyes staring into mine.

"I'm joking," he assured. "It wasn't just the sex; we just learned how to... be open to each other."

Niall laid his head back down on the pillow and looked at me without saying another word. There was this beauty about Niall, a beauty that can be overlooked if you weren't searching for it. It was like he was painted in the most florescent of colors. He had a rounded face; slightly lighter than ivory with a golden hue of a fading tan. His cheeks always had a rose colored tint, probably passed down from his Irish roots. His round, blue eyes were lively, warm with flecks of silvery light performing ballets throughout. Then he had these freckles that started on his left cheek and scatted all down his neck and shoulders and beyond. It was a type of beauty I never took notice of at first, but now it was difficult not to.

And then he smiled, and that was a whole other kind of beauty.

"Although," he added, his voice low and gravely. "The sex isn't bad, either."

I pulled the duvet up and over his face as his laughter filled the room. My cheeks went hot and I couldn't honestly tell you why. Sex wasn't embarrassing to me - talking about it, doing it - it was just a simple topic of discussion to me, so this was a new behavior that I didn't seem to have any control over. And I desperately wanted to know why that was.

Niall took his hand in mine and placed my palm against his lips. "I should have told you everything about Alina when she was first brought up."

"I understand why you didn't," I assured him. "It's the same reasons I haven't told Jamie how my parents died. It's hard to talk about."

Niall didn't respond and he seemed lost in thought. He had always been hard to read and I wondered what he was thinking about. Was it about Alina all the fun times they had together? I felt a pang of jealously through my chest, but it didn't last long as Niall looked up at me and smiled against my palm.

"I can't wait for you to meet Theo," he said, eyes bright from the mention of the name.

"Who's Theo?"

Niall removed my palm from his mouth. "My nephew."

I looked at him oddly. "I didn't know you were an uncle."

"Yes you did," he said. "I told you when we went out for pizza after that recruit dinner. It was the same night you told me about your brother being in the air force."

I had to blink a couple of times to comprehend what he said. He remembered all that?

Before I could respond, the door opened to the bedroom and a little head peeked through the opening. "Ni?" a small voice said. "I'm hungy."

Niall looked over at the little boy standing in the doorway. "I guess we won't be sleeping in, then."