*Harry’s POV*
As I drove home my mind ventured off beyond the lines in the road. For the most part I enjoy being by myself, alone. It gives me time to think and here lately they only time I’ve really had to do so is when I’m leaving from Dr. Bakers office, watching in the rearview mirror as Maudsley shrinks behind me into the distance.

Today however, instead of the building getting smaller as I drove further and further away from it, it appeared in front of me every time I blinked. Every millisecond that my eyes closed the building got bigger and bigger, and I could envision myself walking in the sterile halls of the modern day version of the hospital Ken Kesey wrote about in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

I’m that One that Kesey talks about in the title. The one that got to leave after only two years of hell, but when I think about the day that I moved out and the look on Levi’s face as I left, it wasn’t one of congrats or jealousy it was one that said ‘I’ll see you again soon’ and now I know why.

“You’re being watched.”

Dr. Baker’s voice echoed in my head. I haven’t even been to court yet and I already have someone on the lookout for my behavior. Someone is waiting for me to fail. The hospital has already placed me on some type of pseudo-probation and I’m not even considered a patient their anymore, or should I say yet?

My name at the top of those documents seemed more like a promise than a threat. Everything was written out from reasoning as to why I should be readmitted to the dotted lines at the bottom of the parchment that waited for the signatures of a judge, Dr. Leerman, Dr. Baker and myself. The first time I was admitted to Maudsley, my mum had to sign the papers because I wasn’t yet considered an adult. The thought of me signing myself back into that black hole sends a shiver through my whole being, mostly because in dream’s that I’ve had earlier this week and in daydreams, I’ve seen myself do it along with other things I don’t dare allow myself think about in a conscious mind.

I’m almost grateful for my overly drunk state last night, seeing as I was actually able to rest into this morning and for more than four hours, but the dull pound in my head and the hint of burn in my stomach reminds me as to why I don’t drink myself to sleep every night. I don’t understand how alcoholics do it.

When I get to a stop, there’s a girl that crosses the street that wears Ray Ban’s that reminds me of Reagan’s and I snap myself back into reality. My focus needs to be on her now in order to make things better for the both of us. I feel like I’m losing a connection with her and that makes everything going on around me more amplified than it already is. Reagan is my peace when everything else around me and inside of me reads chaos and untamed emotions. I need her to be better for her, but for my own selfish needs as well.

My drive didn’t take me directly home, but to the tattoo shop instead. I pulled into the parking lot and as soon as my feet hit the ground beneath me, I could almost feel the needle scraping against my skin. As I sat in the chair and allowed Ed to do his work, I took out my phone and dialed Laurie’s number for an un-Niall related emergency.

---

*Reagan’s POV*
This is only day two of being off from work and I find myself almost calling Dr. Koch begging him to let me come back. Whatever problem I have will only be made worse if I stay here in the house all day. I mean honestly, there is only so much television I can watch before my IQ feels like it’s dropped by five percent every hour.

I pick up my phone to call Channel, but I get no answer. Its morning in LA now so she has no excuse not to answer my calls, however, it is a Saturday and knowing Channel, she probably went to some wild party the night before and is still passed out in bed, unaware of what’s going on in the world around her. I tried to call Laurie but it kept going straight to her voicemail telling me her line was busy.

It’s almost four and Harry is still not back from session yet. Since I used to be the one that would sit in on them, I know they only usually last an hour or an hour and a half tops. Where ever he is or whatever he’s doing right now has nothing to do with Dr. Baker holding him up. Part of me feels like he might be avoiding me.

When he left earlier, we didn’t exactly end the conversation on the best of terms, but seeing how he’s the one who said he wanted us to talk I thought he would be back by now. I’m not ecstatic about having a conversation about last night and I’m still somewhat pissed at his little remark, but I need his company.

I sit on the couch and humorlessly chuckle at myself and what a cluster-fuck I am at the moment. I need him, but at the same time I feel like I don’t want him too close. As I sit and stare at the television screen my bitchy focus side begins to analyze my thoughts from behind her therapist desk. Do you need him or do you just like the idea of having him near so that you don’t feel alone and isolated? She pushes her Ray Ban specs up her nose to mock me and I shake the thought away from my mind.

I need Harry. The way that I need him right now may be skewed, but there is no doubt in my mind that I still need him, because I still love him.

Another hour has passed and I couldn’t be more excited when I heard a key go into the lock of the door. Harry stepped through, kicking off his shoes in the foyer leaving them in front of the door after he closed it behind himself and I sat up on the couch trying to hold in my excitement for having company even though we’re upset with each other.

Harry was on the phone and when he noticed me in the living room he nodded his head towards me as a gesture of hello, but went upstairs to his room to finish his quieted conversation. I sat back down on the couch hoping that I would sink into it so that my feet wouldn’t follow behind him up the stairs. Whatever he was talking about and whoever he was talking to, he clearly didn’t want me to hear what it was.

He came back down moments later and sat next to me on the couch not saying a word. The silent room was filled with nothing but the noise of the television and it would have been almost awkward before Harry pulled me against his chest.

I stiffened at the sudden contact and cursed my body for having the reaction when I felt him loosen his grip on me and sigh. I leaned my back against him and I relaxed a bit and I can feel his fingers dance against my wrist until he interlocks them with my hand. I look down at the gentle contact and notice the tiny cross that is etched into his hand that wasn't there a few hours ago and the plastic that sticks out from under the sleeve of his red and black plaid shirt.

I roll up the material and then look up at Harry who was already eyeing me and my curiosity. He nods his head with an amused look on his face, answering my unasked question and allows me to remove the black tape and plastic that covers the hidden inking on his wrist.

An anchor takes the place of his tattoo that read ‘I can’t change’ and I can’t believe my eyes when I notice a tiny ‘R’ in the middle of the shank. I look up at him half disappointed because I loved the other tattoo, and half astonished at the thought behind the new one.

“Do you like it? It matches my ship.” Harry speaks proudly, finally breaking the silence.

“I love it. It’s huge.” A mischievous look passes Harry’s face and he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it soon after keeping the comment to himself. It was something crude no doubt, but I wish he would have said it. I love his dirty quips and jokes.

He nods instead and looks at the work as if he hadn’t seen it after it was finished before he links our hands again.

“Is that ‘R’, is that for me?”

Harry scoffs, “No.”

I immediately feel stupid, embarrassed and hurt and let his hand go before I try to move out of his embrace only for him to wrap his arms around me to keep me there.

“I was joking glasses! Just kidding. Jesus, calm down of course it’s for you. You’re still so sensitive about everything I say. You really don’t get dry British humor.”

I elbow him lightly in the stomach and he lets me go leaning back against the arm of the couch again. His grin changes into a more serious look and I know what’s to come from it, but I’m not sure that I’m ready to answer it.

“I love you, and I would do anything for you. You know that right?” Harry puts an emphasis on the word anything and I look at him confused by his question, but knowing the answer to it without having to think twice about it.

“Yes, but where is all of this coming from?” H. sighs deeply.

“We still need to talk Reagan and I felt that if I expressed that to you first you would tell me what the hell is going on with you. I can’t read your fucking mind and it’s frustrating to me!” I flinch at his sudden change of mood. I often forget that one moment he can be laughing and the next he can be furious with in the matter of seconds. I know he’s not angry right now, only frustrated, but he’s not more frustrated with me than I am with myself. Before I can say anything he continues.

“I can read your body, like an open book. One that I’ve memorized, that I’ve hand written the chapters in. There’s nothing about you that I can’t tell from the way that you move or the way that you look at me, because I’ve studied you so well and thoroughly, but what’s going on in your head is keeping you from me and I can’t help you if you won’t open up to me. Fuck, I can’t help me if you won’t open up to me.”

Harry pinches his bottom lip and speaks the last sentence so quietly I begin to think that it wasn’t intended to be spoken.

“You’re closed off now and I don’t know how to deal with it. You’re not supposed to be the closed off one...” He furrows his eyebrows and looks at me waiting for some type of response, but I barely have one.

“I wish I could explain it to you, Harry but I can barely understand it myself. I just can’t. I don’t even know where to start,” I’m shocked by my lack of emotion but I don’t bother to change my dry tone, “so I’m sorry if I’m hurting you, but like I said to you before, it’s not about you right now.”

Harry’s expression now changes from frustration to anger and I know I’ve struck a nerve unintentionally.

“You can talk to Laurie but you can’t talk to me?” I furrow my brow at him before I respond.

“I told her what happened. She knows just about as much as you do. How do you know I’ve told her anything?”

Harry grabs his lip again and then chews on it before he responds.

“That’s not important. You know what? You’re right, it’s not about me. Keep trying to deal with it like you are now by yourself. You’ve been doing a bang-up job so far Ms. Therapist. I’m done trying to help because obviously it gets us nowhere fast.”

Harry stands quickly from the couch and heads towards the kitchen leaving me in the living room. He slams the medicine cabinet closed after he takes a pill heads upstairs to his room for a while before he comes back downstairs and grabs his keys off of the counter.

“I’m going to work. I’ll see you later.” The door slams shut and the only sound I hear is his car pulling out from the driveway and speeding off down the road.

Notes

Hello loves, Beautiful New and Faithful subscribers! First of all, thank you for the votes and subs! I'm so happy and in love with all of you and as a result I have an update for you all! Writing this chapter made me feel like [ :/ :) :l :( ] lol so I'm anxious to see how you feel about it! What do you think Harry and Laurie were discussing on the phone and what do you think will happen next ;} ? Please continue to load me up with more comments! (I need them to live off of! lbs) and please continue to vote and subscribe! I LOVE YOU ALL FOR READING!!!!

P.S. Guys go give @wonderful .'s story Demented a read! I promise you will fall in love with it as I have~ Xx