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Two hours later after leaving Hackney, Adeline was back in London. The piece of paper in her pocket seemed to be made of lead, and her heart was heavy, weighing her down and slowing her steps. Nick had fallen short on them (through no fault of his own), and Cal had turned her away. Where else was she supposed to go? They would manage if they went hungry tonight – they had both done it more times than they could count – but the money had already run out so quickly that they hadn’t eaten the day before, either.

I just don’t want to see hunger in his eyes again tonight. Adeline was tired of watching Michael go hungry. He was just a kid; he shouldn’t have to suffer like this. Hadn’t he suffered enough? Hadn’t they both? Despite everything she’d ever told herself not to do, Adeline found herself thinking of the younger boy as a brother, as someone she should take care of.

Why should I? Nobody ever took care of me.

No, that wasn’t true. Someone had taken care of her, once. Before she came to London, when she was still in Paris. When she still had Julien. She sighed. If Julien were here, he would know what to do. He always knew what to do. But now the only thing she had of him were his old boots and her memories. Memories of eyes like hers and a smile she had never been able to muster. It was a smile like their mother had, in the pictures Julien used to take out. The pictures were gone now, burned up in the same fire that had taken him from her. When Julien was around, it hadn’t seemed so hopeless. She had worried less; she had been a better person; she had made her brother proud.

Julien would not be proud of me anymore, she thought bitterly. What would he think of the choices I’ve made? He would be proud of me for looking after Michael, but would he be proud of how I’ve done it?

Adeline decided that he would not. Julien would be ashamed of the things she had done, and the things she would continue to do. And, as she set her mind to the task ahead, she was not sure it would matter that she did these things to take care of another.



London always seemed so busy to the five boys. It seemed like they couldn’t step out the door without someone seeing them, making a remark. It was a glorious city, they agreed, but it was one in which they would rather stay indoors.

On the very day that Adeline was wandering and reminiscing, these boys were sitting in a small café. They were joined by two older men – one large and foreboding, but a friend to them all the same, and the other seemingly stern until he smiled across the table at one of them. The two men were like family to them, in much the same way that they were like family to each other.

Their lunch had begun as a business meeting, but it turned into a friendly talk of times passed and memories shared. As he watched his companions, one of the boys smiled to himself, thinking as he often did of how lucky he was to have a family like this.

“Niall!” he said suddenly with a laugh. “Swallow before you go talking, mate. We’ve already seen your food once!”

The other boy did before sticking out his tongue. “Well excuse me, Mr. Malik. You’d do well to follow my example and take a bite at all!”

Mr. Malik – Zayn – smiled at his friend. “I’m taking my time.”

“Why?”

“That’s his way of saying it’s not very good,” cut in Liam from across the table.

“Is there a problem with your food, Zayn?”

The dark-haired boy shook his head at the question of his bodyguard and friend. “No, Paul, it’s fine. I’m just more interested in the conversation than I am in eating right now.”

“Blasphemy!” Niall slammed his hand on the table for emphasis and they all chuckled.

“Harry, stop throwing food at Louis.” Zayn looked up at the stern comment, over to where his two friends sat. It was true – Louis had peas in his hair, and Harry looked for all the world like he was turning on the charm to get out of a guilty verdict. With another smile, he looked over at the speaker. Despite the seriousness in his voice, Simon’s eyes said that he was more amused at the antics than he would admit. He was used to the behavior by now – he held himself partially responsible for putting Louis and Harry together in the first place, and he was proud of it. Next to him, Paul sat shaking his head and trying not to laugh; he had seen (and would continue to see) much worse from the group. A little misplaced food was nothing.

“Haz! Stop it!” Louis whined. Where before there were only peas, Louis now had a small clump of bread in his hair that Liam was attempting to remove. When it was out (as well as the peas), Louis reached for a chip on the other boy’s plate, eyes gleaming with mischief as he narrowed them at his friend.

“No, Lou!” The boy’s blue eyes darted over to Liam, who was sharing a look with Zayn. Understanding, Zayn took the chip and moved Harry’s plate out of his reach. They both knew that if Louis were to retaliate, they would have a full scale food fight on their hands in no time. (That isn’t to say that neither of them would participate, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to prevent it from happening – at least in public.)

“Oi! I wasn’t done with that!”

“Then you shouldn’t have been throwing food.”

The boy’s green eyes narrowed. “Yes, Daddy Direction, I’ll behave better next time.”

“No, you won’t.”

Harry smiled. “You’re right, I probably won’t.”

“But next time it’ll be Lou that starts it, just you wait!” Niall was probably right. The partners-in-crime had a tendency to alternate antagonists to drive each other (and everyone else) up the wall. It was all done with a light heart, though, and nothing had ever escalated past friendly mischief. And it would certainly be a lie to say that it was always Harry or Louis that started it, because - as Paul could attest - they were all quite the troublemakers at one time or another.

Just as Zayn opened his mouth to remind everyone of a time on their last tour that involved climbing in the venue rafters, there was a shout from the kitchen, and everyone froze.

"Oi! What do you think you're doing? Come back here! Thief! Thief!" The eyes of everyone at the table darted around in surprise as a girl - who couldn't have been more than their age - came running from the back of the restaurant, a napkin-wrapped bundle in hand. Her blue eyes looked frightened as she bounded between tables. She was so busy trying to distance herself from the furious cook that followed her that she didn't notice the leg of Harry's chair in her way, and she went tumbling to the ground.

"Are you okay?" Louis reached out as if to help the girl, ignoring the fact that she was, apparently, stealing from the kitchen. Her panicked gaze went from his hand, to his face, to his companions before she backed away, still on the floor. Biting her chapped lip, she rose to her feet, tearing away once more, though this time she did so with a slight limp. The boys and their companions looked after her with eyes that showed different ranges of confusion, worry, and bewilderment. Moments later, Niall asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"What was that?"

Outside, Adeline made her way through a dim-lit alley before stopping to take a breath. Her ankle was throbbing and a small part of her mind whispered - as it always did - that she should be ashamed of herself. But it didn't matter - Michael would eat tonight.

Je suis desolée, Julien," she whispered softly.