Niall's Point of View

I didn't want to leave London. I did miss my mum though. Maybe it would do me good to see her.

I managed to get on the plane unrecognized, but once I sat down, there were a couple girls who kept on looking in my direction. During the short flight, I kept my head down, trying not to draw attention to myself. Not that it worked.

When the plane touched down, I sat in the crowded airplane cabin, surrounded by teenage girls, female flight attendants, and even a couple guys. Finally, the pilot went on the intercom, and shouted for a couple minutes. Shrinking into my seat, I waited for everyone to clear out. They got the hint.

As I was getting off of the plane, I apologized to the pilot and crew. I knew the flight attendants didn't mind, but the captain... More than a little pissed. He smiled as I walked past him, but I knew it was fake. I've done my share of forced smiles.

I grabbed the bag that Paul and the boys had thoughtfully packed off of the conveyor belt rolling endlessly to my right. What the hell did they pack? I thought to myself. I began shifting the heavy laden bag from shoulder to shoulder, hoping to find a happy medium that wouldn't tear my arm out.

I made my way out of the terminal, and arrived in the pick up area. Scanning the sea of paparazzi and Irish, I smiled. Good to be home.

Suddenly, a familiar hug encircled my waist. I turned around, dropping my bag with a thud. "Mum!" I exclaimed, returning her hug with a kiss on the cheek. She held me out at arms length before putting a hand to her mouth, sniffing, and drawing me in for another hug. I laughed and hugged her back. When I looked up, I could have sworn I saw Emma. But, she is missing, I thought to myself, my smile slipping, and my heart growing heavy once more.

My mum felt a shift in my mood and released me, wiping away her stray tears. I looked around, watching the paps get their pictures. Mum began talking, but it became apparent to her that I wasn't paying attention. She nudged me and repeated her question. "How are the lads doin'?"

"Oh, fine, fine," I replied, waving my hand by my face.

"And, how's your girl? Emily, was it?" She asked, a smile creeping back onto her face.

I looked down at the ground. "Emma. It's Emma. And she's missing," I said, scuffing the ground with my shoe.

"What?" Mum asked, a surprised look on her face.

My eyes began to blur, so I blinked to rid them of tears. "She left work one day and never came back," I replied, clearing my throat.

Mum patted my arm, murmuring, "Hey now, lad. It's okay. I have something to take your mind off of it."

I looked at her as if she was crazy. She grinned and said, "I'm helping this girl out. She was sitting on our curb, crying hysterically, and I haven't found out what was wrong yet, but I intend to." Mum's smile faltered, her voice softening. "Her arms are pretty badly bruised. And whenever she moved, she was in pain, probably something with her stomach or ribs. I'm guessing she's having abusive trouble, and I need you to help me, Niall. I never had any daughters. You've been around Gemma, and Ruth, and Felicitè, and the rest of the girls more than I have. You know how to comfort girls. I'm only going off of instinct and common sense. You can pretend she's your Emma. Please?"

I sighed, and nodded. Maybe Mum is right. Maybe helping this girl will take my mind off of Emma. At least for a little while.

"Where is she now?" I asked, bending down to pick up my bag, forgetting how heavy it was.

"Oh, I brought her with me. I didn't want to leave her alone, wandering Ireland. Come meet this girl over here. She's very nice," Mum said, her voice growing louder, probably to warn this girl that she was coming over.

Finally picking up my bag, I turned around and saw...

"Emma?"

No. It can't be. I'm hallucinating. I've gone mad. This abused girl can't be Emma.

Her hair was messy, her face was smudged with dirt and red from crying. Her clothing looked like she had worn it for a couple of days, and her arms were mottled purple and brown. The way she stood also suggested pain. She was a mess. But she was beautiful.

And her eyes. No matter how much pain, no matter how many tears, I will recognize those blue eyes.

Dropping my bag once more, I ran over to my Emma, grabbing her face in my hands. She winced, and I let go, sliding my hands to her shoulders. Emma shifted uncomfortably, watching my gaze drift by her arms again, down to her shoes. I debated kissing her, but that would just send her a message she won't accept yet. I decided on a simple hug, squeezing her into me. I heard a small groan of pain, and I immediately let her go, watching her subconsciously rub her side.

I finally lifted her chin so her eyes would meet mine. "Hey," I whispered.

Emma blushed and whispered, "Hey," back to me. Grabbing her hand, I brought her over to Mum.

Mum was standing stiffly, mouth half open, her eyes darting from me to Emma, Emma to me. Suddenly, she realized we were waiting for her, and she clapped her hands, saying, "Well, let's go!"

I dropped Emma's hand to pick up my bag, and was surprised to see her small hands join mine in lifting the hefty duffel. I glanced up, and smiled. Sliding the bag onto my shoulder, I said, "It's okay, Emma. I've got it."

She nodded, and started walking quickly behind my mum. I jogged a few steps to catch up to her, and took the opportunity to further study her state. If anything, I think the thing she was lacking the most at this point, was someone to care for her. Someone who loved her. I vowed right then, that I would be that someone.

Before we left the pick up area, we were surrounded by paps.

"Hey, Niall! Who's the hobo?"
"What's her name? Why is she with you?"
"Talk about no fashion sense."
"Are you dating? Why would you date such a piece of garbage? She can't even clean herself up!"

I felt a wild fury rip through me, but before I lost it, I grabbed Mum's and Emma's hands. Using my blind rage, I broke a path through the flashing lights.

We finally arrived at the car. I threw my bag in the trunk, and was about to get in, when I noticed Emma. She was shaking, her once pink face now ghastly pale. I placed my hand lightly on her upper back, leading her slowly to the car. I helped her get in, and shooting a look at my mum, I got in the back seat, next to her. I made sure she had buckled before buckling myself, and then realized that she was crying.

I remember the first time I was swarmed with paps, I cried for hours afterward. So did Harry and Liam.

Not only had Emma just been attacked by paparazzi for the first time, but she was hurt and scared. Who knows what hell she had been through in the two days she had disappeared. Which made me wonder why she had disappeared in the first place, only to end up one country over, with abusive markings on her?

Mum began to drive us home, and I shook off my thoughts, telling myself to help Emma first. I looked over at her. She was slumped in her seat, still crying silently. I hesitantly reached over, and pulled her down so her head was in my lap. Gently smoothing her hair away from her face, I gathered it to one side. I tried to braid it, but I'm not good at doing hair. I ended up just playing with it, and Emma ended up falling asleep.

She stayed that way the whole ride home.

Notes

You are lovely, lovely people! Here is your update... I hope it's worth the wait. I would have updated last night, but my wifi turned off sooner than I expected... And yeah.

Ah. So. For your next chapter, I would like to have 80 subscribers. I know y'all can do it!

Once more, if you have an Instagram, follow me, @picknandos. I post sneak peeks of the chapters I'm working on, and just random things.

Okay. So, I've decided that every time I update, I'm going to ask you a question. If you don't want to answer it, fine. If you do, great! I'm hoping this will be a fun thing, and yeah. So today's question is kinda lame, but idk. Here it is: What is your hair color? I'm blonde.

Okay. So, pardon my rambling, follow me on Instagram, answer my question if you want to, and push me up to 80 subscribers! Love you loads!

-PickNandos