Ronan: To the Moon and Back

Raelyn is livid.

The second she heard that voice, his voice, her heart stopped for a moment, her blood began to boil. She hardly recalls standing, getting up so fast she was sure she pulled a muscle in her back. But how could he be here? Why was he here? Who told him and why the fuck is he standing there looking at her like the past three years haven't happened? Those brown eyes staring at her.

The last time she saw them they were filled with disgust, thought she was just a naive little girl who needed to grow up and quit crying. Like a child. Like the child whose life was just taken from them. Like the child he absolutely refused to belief had cancer. Like the child that he fucking left behind for her mother to care for by herself. Like the child Rae was forced to no longer be. He wanted an adult; he fucking got one.

Red is all Rae can see right now, clouding her vision and zoning in on nothing but her father. She can hear her blood rushing in her ears, like the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore. She can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins making her whole body hot with fire. Burning with rage, her knuckles popping with how hard she's squeezing her fist. She's never been this angry before. A nervous whisper breaks through the sound of her wrath in her ears and she abruptly remembers she's not alone. That people are currently witnessing her trying to mentally chuck daggers at her father's head.

"Maybe we should just get some air." Are the hushed words.

Rae can't even place who's voice it is, and barely registers the boys, quickly but quietly, exit the room. However, Louis is rooted to the spot in her peripheral. She doesn't know if she appreciates that or not. Rae tries to breathe, inhales sharply through her nose, attempting to calm her anger and get a few words out to Louis. Barely turning her face towards him, keeping her eyes on the man in front of her.

Through gritted teeth she gets out, "Louis, please go upstairs."

Louis blinks at her like she's crazy, and maybe she is. She doesn't even want to look at herself in a mirror right now. However, Louis has good enough grace to listen. Reluctantly, he stands up, shoots a concerning look at her before turning to head upstairs. As she listens to his foot steps, she starts second guessing if that was a good idea.

The man who calls himself her father begins to speak, after watching Louis ascend the stairs. "Isn't he from-"

"Why the fuck are you here!?" Rae cuts him off, anger kicking up another notch. Maybe it was a good idea to send Louis away, because now that no one besides her mum is here to witness this, she's going full force.

"I called him." MaryAnn states breathlessly, eyes wide.

Rae's eyes snap over to her mother, who looks pale and a little sick and Rae hates her mum's ex husband all over again. But...what? "What?"

MaryAnn shakes her head. "I told him. However, that was not an invitation to come here, David."

That's better. "How do you even know where we live!?" Rae demands. "All this fucking time and now you show up."

"From that one letter you sent with the papers." David informs towards MaryAnn, taking another step in and finally closing the door behind him.

Rae takes one back and makes eyes contact with her mum. "Make him leave."

"I think that's a great idea." Her mother agrees. "You should go. Now."

"Why won't you let me stay?" David asks, and for a moment, a split moment, Rae sees hurt flash in his eyes. How ironic.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Rae seethes, regaining her previous step.

"You're not the only one to lose Ronan, Raelyn. I lost my son too."

That makes Rae laugh. The sound startles herself, wouldn't have realised it came from her if she didn't feel the vibrations in her throat. It seems to startle them both because the laugh coming from her mouth is dark, humorless, borderline manic. Rae cracks. Cracks for her brother, for her mum, for the hell he put them all through. Rae loves her mother, but right now hopes to God she will let Rae get this out.

"Your son? Yours? That's bloody fucking rich!" Rae chuckles once more, then stops. Because none of this is even remotely funny. She takes another step forward.

"You left him! You refused to believe Ronan had cancer. You- you- fuck! How are you standing there right now thinking it's okay for you to come back? You haven't been a father to him for three years! You were too scared to believe it. Well guess what? So were we! The difference is you're a bloody, pathetic, coward who couldn't admit to the sickness he had. You left! You decided Ronan was below you, wasn't worth your time or money and you left us! You left Ronan, you left mum to do everything herself! You left her with no money, no support, no husband. How could you!?

"You left your wife! You fucking left me! You shoved divorce papers into mydddd hands and left! You never came back. The cancer was still there and you never even looked back! So please, please tell me what makes you think it's perfectly alright for you to suddenly show up after years of nothing! You don't deserve to be here. Ronan does not deserve someone who claims to be his father when he never acted like one!"

Rae takes another step forward. "You walked out on your family when we needed you the most and you know what happened!? We were better off! Mum and I did everything you didn't, everything you were too afraid of. We took care of him. We loved him. We paid for everything out of pocket, worked our arses off for him because we love him!"

She doesn't realise how close she is until her finger she didn't notice is jabbing her father in the chest. "We did everything for him without you. We didn't need you anymore just like you didn't want us. So don't you dare stand there like nothing has happened."

Rae's panting hard, feels hot all over and finally takes a big step backwards. David's eyes are wide with shock, as are her mothers when she glances over to her. Though underneath her surprise is pride. Then, then her father says the one thing that truly breaks Rae.

"SunRae." He says. So soft, begging. Four years wrapped into one word.

Rae tenses up all over again.

"Please don't hold that against me."

"Don't call me that!" Rae shouts, jabbing her finger in the air again. "Don't you dare call me that. Hold it against you!? You think you showing up now changes anything!? I can't fucking feel properly because of you! Ronan died in my arms, our arms! He died while I sang to him and I didn't shed a single tear because someone told me to and grow up. And I did. Without any help from you. Ronan died in my arms father. Do not tell me not to hold anything against you."

"Raelyn," David tries again, hand slowly reaching out for her. MaryAnn moves between them with challenging eyes and he drops his hand. "Let me explain."

"Fuck off!" Rae spits, acid dripping from her words. "I never. Never want to see you again and I'm pretty sure mum agrees."

Daivd attempts once more, remorse in his eyes. "Mon petit Soleil. Raelyn, please hear me out, Soleil?"

How dare he call her that. How dare he use that phrase on her. White hot fury surges through her body and she really needs to leave the room before she throws the coffee table at him; or punches him in the face.

"Fuck. You." Rae says viciously. She spins on her heel, pausing for a moment when she sees Louis standing behind her at the base of the stares. It's only a moment when their eyes meet, Rae realising he probably heard everything, that she decides she doesn't give a flying fuck anymore and runs upstairs.

***

Louis has had his share of awkward moments; living on a tour for days at a time tends to make those moments frequent. After the first two weeks of their first tour he quickly learned to get over those. Accidentally walking in on Lottie snogging her first ever boyfriend was quite awkward. Or rather, awkward for her, Louis was outraged. But this, right now, standing at the foot of the stairs after just watching Rae go off on her father has to be the worst one yet.

He heard the angry yelling from her room and made the decision to go back downstairs. He knew this situation didn't involve him, but the utter fury and hurt in Rae's voice pulled him towards her. He heard most of what she was shouting at her father, spitting everything he had left her with back in his face. Louis had never seen such fire in those blue eyes before, not even when that pap wormed his way into the hospice. Rae's expression was livid, her cheeks were flushed, eyes blazing, hands flying along with her words. She had jabbed her index finger into her father's chest, spat her last words, then abruptly turned to leave.

When she had finally spotted him, her expressions soften for a split second. She blinked, then pushed pass Louis to run upstairs, slamming her door a few moments later. Now, Louis is standing there, legs apparently not listening to his brain to move. He doesn't know what to do with his hands and Rae's father has been staring at him since she left. Eyes a little tight around the edge, but full of something Louis can't put his finger on. Quite frankly, he doesn't want too. He isn't too keen on father's just taking off and leaving behind a family.

Louis decides this moment has gone on for long enough, and is finally about to go after Rae when MaryAnn shifts. Louis forgot she was there for a moment, looking for all the world proud of her daughter. David notices her as well, because he suddenly turns to her and opens his mouth.

"Think you could have taught her a little better than that?" He deadpans. It's not a vicious question. In fact, his tone hints a little at a joke, but it strikes Louis something fierce.

MaryAnn raises an eyebrow, and for someone who just lost her son and had been crying ever since then, she looks fiercely protective. "Well David, she is her mother's daughter. She knows bullshit when she sees it."

Louis fucking beams at the smug look on MaryAnn's face. David suddenly looks defeated, shoulders slumping like he knows he deserves it. Louis knows he does. There's a sudden thud followed immediately by what sounds like glass shattering from upstairs. Louis whips around and takes the steps two at a time, not leaving any parting words. He nearly trips when he reaches the landing, but recovers enough to make it to Rae's room. He slams his palm on the door handle, bruising it in the process when it don't budge. It's locked.

"Raelyn!?" Louis frantically knocks on the door, trying to keep his panic down. "Rae what happened? Please let me in."

Thankfully he doesn't have to wait long. Rae unlocks and opens the door, tentatively stepping back to allow Louis to enter. He does a quick once over of her, making sure she isn't hurt; physically. She doesn't look it, he can still see the ace bandage peeking out from the collar of her shirt. Louis sighs in relief.

"Love, what happened? I heard a crash." He says, gently placing his hand on Rae's cheek.

Her eyes flutter close, and for a moment she presses into his touch. Revels in his comforting touch. Then abruptly she pulls away and sweeps her hand towards the far wall. It's a mess.
There's shattered pieces of glass scattered along the floor, glittering in the setting sun's light streaming through the window. There's an apple sized dent on the wall, surrounded by some type of liquid that's dripping down towards the floor. There's a puddle of the same liquid the glass is soaking in, and when Louis cautiously steps forwards, he sees little white specks everywhere. He finally spots what Rae had clearly thrown, bending down to pick it up. A snow globe. Or, what's left of it.

The bottom of the broken globe is made of pretty mahogany wood, painted with a glossy finish. The word PARIS is carved into it, painted in gold. The only thing left of the top now is the sharp ridges of where the glass shattered, still wet from the water it previously held. Frowning, Louis looks for the other parts, and spots it when Rae holds out her hand. A small metal figurine of the Eiffel Tower lays in her palm.

"He gave it to me when I was fifteen." Rae tells him quietly, eyes locked on her hand. "Said he'd take me to France for my eighteenth birthday." She lets out a small scoff.

"Rae." Louis says, voice soft and sad because he doesn't really know what to say to that. Abruptly, Rae throws the miniature Eiffel against the wall. Louis jumps slightly, not expecting the sudden movement.

"What bullshit!" Rae sneers. She turns to grab something from her bed.

Louis recognizes it as the unmarked black box he discovered months ago. It's been unlock, the top hanging from its hinge loosely like it was yanked opened. It's filled with all sorts of things; cards, tickets, jewelry, pictures. All memories of her father she locked away for years. Rae shoves the box in Louis' hand, not caring for the bottom half of the snow globe falling to the floor.

"What are you- Jesus, Rae!" Louis' caught off guard when Rae snatches another item from the box, an expensive looking watch, and chucks it against the wall.

He watches Rae with wide eyes as she begins tearing up old concert and football tickets. Rips up old fading pictures, the remains fluttering to the floor to join the others. She rips up all the paper memories, and Louis just lets her. He knows in the back of his mind she might regret it some day, but he also knows she needs this now.

"He promised so much shit!" Rae seethes, now pulling on a pretty pink necklace until it snaps in half, losing a few rhinestones in the process. She tosses it aside without another glance. "I fucking hate pink and he promised us things and he just ran. He up and left because he couldn't deal with Ronan's sickness. He fucking left his son!"

She grabs a small book, a children's story Louis recognises, used to read to his sisters. She opens the book and Louis sees a note written on the inside of cover. Mon petit Soleil. is all he can make out.

"Left his daughter!" Rae rips the cover off, "left his wife!" She rips the first page. "He abandoned his family, and now? Now!? He wants to waltz back in like nothing happened? Fuck that!" Rae flings the torn book over her shoulder. "Mon petit Soleil!? Fuck him!"

In her fury, Louis hadn't paid too much attention to the items in the box when she started throwing things, and the sudden French she just spoke has intrigued interest sparking in his pit of his stomach. He's brought back into the moment when Rae shoves her hand into the box for one last item, and he finally sees it.

Time seems to slow down for a moment; a small china tea up laid buried beneath everything. The color now a faded powder blue, with intricate gold details swirling around the rim of the cup, with what looks like hand painted detailed blue roses on the inside. It's an elegant, beautiful piece of china. There's a chip on the rim, Louis notices, and time speeds back up when he sees Rae's finger snag on the sharp edge, immediately drawing blood down her middle finger. She clearly doesn't notice, obviously doesn't feel it because she's raising her arm once more and Louis knows she's about to throw it as hard as she can. For a nanosecond, he sees a small signature on the bottom in black ink.

"Rae, stop!"

Abruptly, Louis drops the now empty box and quickly grabs hold of Rae's wrist with his right hand, just as she makes the forward motion, and tugs the delicate tea cup out of her grip with his left. Rae looks bewildered and furious, blue eyes engulfed in flames that lick around her pupils. She opens her mouth to protest, probably shout colorful profanities at him, but stops short when Louis all but shoves her bleeding finger in front of her face.

Rae blinks several times, and it would be quite comical given any other situation. Louis can see the fight drain out of her, sees her shoulders slump and her wrist goes limp in his hand. She suddenly sits on her bed, plopping down hard enough to tug Louis forward a little. Deeming the tea cup now safe from harm, Louis releases her wrist and places the cup on the dresser.

"Stay." He orders her softly. "Hold your hand up a bit and don't move. I'll be right back."

Rae doesn't say anything, but holds her hand up, and that's good enough for him. Louis quickly goes to the bathroom across the hall. He finds the bottle of antiseptic liquid he used from earlier. Anti-bacterial ointment (who knows how much dust and dirt was collected on that cup) cotton balls, plasters and a small hand towel that he dampens with warm water; a wave of d'j'vu washes over him. When he returns, Rae is staring unblinking at the mess she created. Louis carefully places everything but the small flannel on the floor.

"Here love, hold this tight." He instructs Rae, wrapping the flannel around her freely bleeding finger.

Once she's holding it in place, he drags over her desk chair, mindful of the massive mess and gets to work on her finger. It's silent the whole time Louis cleans the cut. Rae only flinches out a hiss the moment the antiseptic soaked cotton ball touches the cut, but other than that she's quiet. Louis can feel her eyes on him the whole time, and he focuses on the task at, literal, hand. Only after he carefully wraps two plasters around her finger, does she finally say something.

"The teacup was my grandmother's." Rae begins softly. Louis just holds her injured hand in his and listens. "It was always on display at her house. Sat in her glass cupboard with others. She once told me she collected them from traveling around the world. That one was the smallest of them all, hand painted by this widowed woman in France. Said the only thing that kept her going was painting. She and my grandmother became friends and she gave her the teacup as a parting gift. It's always been my favorite cup, my favorite story, because my grandmother spent her whole summer there, met my grandfather who was studying abroad. It was the most valuable thing to her. When she died, she left them to my parents. My father gave me this one because he knew it's my favorite."

Louis' been rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. His thumb dipping up and down over each bump of her knuckles. He asks, "How did it chip?"

"Gave it back to my father to clean it. He dropped it, it hit the coffee table but he caught it before it hit the floor. It made us laugh at the time, and I decided to put it away for safe keeping. I guess I forgot it's been in the box the whole time."

Nodding, Louis suddenly remembers the French phrase that rolled smoothly off Rae's tongue, and made her incredibly angry at her father. Carefully he asks, "What's uh..Mon petit-?"

"Soleil." Rae finishes bitterly for him. The word sounds sour in her mouth.

"Right. Is that...I'm a little rusty on me French."

There's a muscle jumping by Rae's jaw from how tightly she's clenching her teeth. Louis' about to back track, once he sees the coldness from earlier return to her eyes, darkening the blue irises to the colour of the ocean after a storm. He should really avoid subjects that will set her rage off again. There's enough mess in her room right now; doesn't need anything more to add to it, say like a shattered mirror.

"My little sun." She whispers, the bitterness still going strong. "The nickname he gave me merges the sun and my name together. Since I've always wanted to go to France, he picked up on the phrase Mon petit Soleil." Rae rolls her eyes, scoffing lightly.

Silence falls between them after that. Louis kisses the back of her hand, keeps his lips lingering there until Rae wants to speak again. He knows she needs this; to just talk to someone, and he is always willing to listen. She could read the oxford dictionary to him and he'd still listen. Hell, she could read it in French with how pretty the language sounds coming off her tongue; but that's neither here or there. Rae gently pulls her now bandaged hand out of his grip, only to bury her face in both of hers.

Louis cautiously moves from the chair in favor of sitting next to her on the bed. He rubs comforting circles between her shoulder blades, and down her spine. He can feel how she's trying to calm herself, possibly trying to avoid removing the ace bandage and slashing up her chest again.

"I hate that he's here." Rae mutters into her palms. She then sighs, drops her hands and sags into Louis's sigh. "He makes me so angry. I want him to leave. Make him leave."

Suddenly it's like Louis is thrown back several years in time, back to that first year of One Direction, when his mum and stepdad got divorced. All he remembers is finally being able to visit his mother, and having his dad show up. She pleaded brokenly to Louis; "Make him leave, please Louis". He had never felt so helpless before that moment, watching tears of heartbreak fall from the strongest woman he knew eyes. Asked his stepfather to leave while his four sisters sat at the top of the stairs listening.

He will never understand how anyone can willingly break someone they loved so much like that. It's a memory that will forever haunt him, even though him and his stepdad- the only father figure Louis has ever really known- are now on good terms. Thankfully it wasn't a messy divorce but enough for it to be painful, as divorces always are. Now, as he snaps out of his non-pleasant reverie, it's almost the same thing. A father breaking the heart of his family he's suppose to love and support and instead chose to walk out on his family.

Rae has been so unbelievably strong since Louis' met her. How can he suddenly become her hero that fights off the bad guy when he doesn't even know how to do it. He will do anything and everything he can for her, he loves her. He loves her. He wont walk out on her when she needs him the most, even if she doesn't admit it. He would willingly step on thousands of sea urchins, then into a pool of antiseptic before he ever hurts her the way her father has. He wont leave her, unless she forcefully pushes him out the door and asks him too. Just like she's asking him to do that to her father downstairs.

There's a pair of soft lips pressing on the corner of his mouth, pulling his attention back to current times. Louis blinks once, turning his head to meets Rae's curious gaze. The skin between her eyebrows is slightly wrinkled in a frown, possibly wondering where his mind went just now.

"Louis?" She questions softly, concerned, bringing her hand up to his jaw. Her fingers trace the stubble that has begun to grow back.

Louis trails the hand on her back up her neck until his fingers are tangled in her hair. The braid Harry put it in early is now falling out, stray strands laying unfastened around her face. He smiles tenderly at her, before leaning in to press his lips on hers. He hears, or rather, feels Rae sigh into the kiss, shoulders slumping and melting into his touch like it was the only thing that will relax her. It's a short, but sweet kiss, and when he pulls back Rae's eyelashes flutter against her cheekbone before she reopens her eyes.

Leaning in again, just to graze his lips against hers, he says, "Okay. I'll make him leave. Anything for you, pretty."

Rae's breath hitches and when Louis makes to pull away again to do what he just promised her, Rae stops him. "Actually," She begins sheepishly. "I'd rather you just stay. With me. Please?"

Louis answers her with another kiss.

***********************************************************************************************************

Notes