Don't Wave No Goodbye

‘ma just called me my sister’s name, my dad’s name, my niece’s name, lex, then my granddad’s name THEN mine… see what you’re missing out on??? x’

Darcy grins at this. Nick had only been gone a day and already he’d text her multiple times about all the crazy shenanigans the Grimshaw clan were getting up to as well as asking every few hours if Lex is missing him yet. Lex, after an hour of being a little unsure of Darcy’s place, had already made himself at home and is currently snoozing on Darcy’s bed happily but she tells Nick that Lex is sad without him to keep the man from whinging about canine betrayal or something of the like.

Tossing her phone aside, Darcy peers out the window to see that the weather is letting up a bit which she’s glad about. She’s supposed to be having drinks with Henry, Pixie, and a few others before they too get whisked away with family engagements for Christmas and Darcy doesn’t particularly want to have to battle with snow to get there and back. She’s already dressed with only her hair and make-up to deal with, but it’s just too nice lying beside Lex, stroking the dog’s ears mindlessly, and just letting herself relax.

The calm is interrupted by a series of loud, frantic knocks on her front door, sending Darcy into a sudden state of panic because she can’t think of who might be at her door. There’s a possibility that it’s Henry and Pix, coming over early to make sure she’ll actually attend the drinks because Nick, ever the traitor, had told them to keep an eye on her as much as possible and although he’d tried to be stealthily about it, there’s not much he can do that gets passed Darcy.

Lex has already bounded out of the room and to the front door, yapping loudly as Darcy sighs and rolls over the bed, running a hand through her messy hair in an attempt to look presentable and when she gets to the door, she finds that it’s not Pixie or Henry, it’s one very drunken Harry Styles.

“Harry, what the – whoa!” Darcy only just manages to catch Harry before he stumbles to the floor and the moment she has him in her arms, she can smell the stench of alcohol on him. “God Harry, what the hell have you done to yourself?”

Harry doesn’t reply, going limp in her arms and Darcy doesn’t really have the upper body strength to keep this gangly teenager standing up right so she begins to half carry, half drag him towards the couch, settling him down as gently as possible before returning back to the door to close and lock it behind her. Harry lets out a soft moan, pushing his face into the couch cushions before letting out a soft sigh.

“Harry? Are you alright? Can I get you something?” Darcy asks cautiously, watching as Harry manages to drag himself into a sitting position, wobbling slightly before looking up at her with a guilty expression.

“Water, maybe?” he rasps out apologetically, ducking his eyes away from Darcy to focus on Lex who’s sitting obediently at his feet waiting to be acknowledged. Darcy nods and heads to the kitchen, filling up a glass from the filter before sending a quick text to Pixie to let her know that she isn’t going to be able to make it to drinks because something’s come up. She knows that Pixie is most likely going to report this as an act of anti-social behaviour to Nick but she’s got bigger things to worry about.

Moving back into the living room, she hands the glass to Harry carefully and watches as he downs half of the water in one go, placing the glass onto the coffee table without comment. He still refuses to look at Darcy, focusing all his attention on Lex who enjoys it immensely.

“Harry… is everything okay?” Darcy tries, reaching out to touch Harry’s shoulder and when he turns to look at her, she can see that his face is now wet, his eyes red-rimmed from previous bouts of crying.

He shakes his head, more tears falling. “No,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Someone – no, not someone, a fan of ours died today, Darce. A girl, only fourteen. She killed herself because she was so unhappy in her life and her last – her last tweet was to me. Telling me she loved me and that she’s sorry to disappoint me.”

“Oh Harry,” Darcy breathes, immediately feeling her heart breaking, both for the eighteen year old who feels like he has to carry the world on his shoulders and for the girl who couldn’t keep fighting. “Come here,” Darcy whispers, and Harry lets himself fall into his arms, unable to hide his sobs as Darcy runs her fingers through his hair.

“Why couldn’t I do something? I should’ve done something, I could’ve made a difference, and now she’s dead and she was so young Darce, she was so young,” Harry sobs into Darcy’s shoulder, his tears wetting her shirt but neither of them care.

“Harry, Harry no, there was nothing you could’ve done,” Darcy murmurs into his ear, rocking him gently in an attempt to calm him down as his breathing becomes erratic.

Harry shakes his head furiously. “I should’ve at least tried. What good is it being a celebrity and having all this power to reach out to people if I don’t fucking do anything with it?” His voice is so bitter, so self-deprecating that Darcy just can’t take it anymore. She holds his head in her hands tightly, forcing him to look at her when she speaks.

“Listen to me, Harry, and know that what I’m saying is the complete truth. You can’t save everybody, I know you want to because that’s just the sort of person you are, but you can’t, it’s not possible. Whatever that girl was going through must’ve been so horrible to make her want to stop living, that I don’t think there would’ve been much you could’ve done to stop the hurt,” Darcy says seriously, feeling her own tears begin to fall as she tries to wipe away Harry’s with her thumbs. “She tweeted you thanks, right? I think what she was trying to say was thank you for helping her this far, you obviously meant a big deal to her and without even knowing, I think you helped make some parts of her life happier so focus on that. Focus on the good that you did do, and not on the things you couldn’t change.”

After a moment, Harry nods slowly, still staring up intently into Darcy’s eyes. “I… I get that. I know you’re right but I’d just like… I’d just like to be sad for a while. For her. Because she’s gone and I’m still here and I just…” Harry trails off but Darcy understands, shushing him gently and letting him melt back into her embrace.

“Of course Harry, it’s an awful thing to happen and completely normal for you to be sad about this,” Darcy reminds him gently, and once this is said, Harry begins to cry again. Not the loud, broken sobs like before but a more subdued crying, like Harry is letting the grief inside him out and Darcy holds him, her own tears from the sadness she feels from Harry and for this little girl falling.

For the longest time, Darcy just holds Harry, even when the tears stop because she knows Harry and she knows that when he’s upset like this, he just needs that human closeness, he craves it. Finally, when Darcy had begun to think that maybe Harry had exhausted himself into sleep, he moves into a sitting position and Darcy lets him go.

“I, ah, I’m sorry,” Harry says, rubbing at his face awkwardly. “This is probably crossing a hundred different lines but I didn’t know… I didn’t know who else to go to. I mean, all the lads have already gone home for Christmas and I don’t fly out until tomorrow so I just went to some random bar and got completely sloshed then realised there was only one place I really wanted to go… and sorry, this is just completely… Sorry.”

“Harry, stop apologising,” Darcy answers, smiling lightly. “I’m not mad or angry or anything. In fact, I’m glad you came here; I would’ve hated to have you go through this by yourself. I’m still here for you, even if you want nothing to do with me.”

Harry looks ashamed at this, having to look away quickly when she says this leaving Darcy feeling a little more cut up about the fact than she thought she would be. “I, uh, I need to use the bathroom,” Harry comments after a while and when he gets to his feet, he immediately stumbles and falls back on the couch. “Guess I’m a little more trollied than I thought.”

“Come on, you big lug,” Darcy murmurs affectionately as she helps Harry to his feet again, taking him to the small toilet under the stairs that’s rarely ever used. “You can take it from here?”

Harry nods sheepishly, thanking her softly before shutting himself in. Darcy sighs and makes her way into the kitchen, filling up the kettle and turning it on before pulling out two mugs. She wants something a lot stronger than tea but doesn’t want to risk it in front of Harry. Pulling out here phone, she’s got half a dozen texts from her friends and two missed calls from Nick and decides she needs to text him to keep him from worrying.

‘busy rn will call later and explain x’

Moments later, Harry stumbles into the kitchen looking a little steadier but not by much. Darcy smiles up at him, suddenly feeling exhausted from the amount of emotions rushing through both of them.

“Thought I’d make some tea. That alright?”

Harry nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah, that would be brilliant, thanks.” He stops, looking a little unsure of himself. “Are you sure it’s alright for me to be here? I know we didn’t exactly leave things on a good note when I was last here.”

“I thought we were rather mature about the whole thing, honestly. And of course this is alright, don’t worry about that. Do I need to contact anyone to let them know you’re okay?”

“Nah, should be good. Do you want me to take anything through?” Harry gestures to the living room and Darcy shakes her head quickly.

“Might be best if I do it, yeah?” she teases lightly and Harry flushes before nodding.

“Yeah, ‘suppose you’re right,” he agrees.

“You go through and I’ll be there once I’ve got the tea made up, alright?” Darcy suggests and Harry nods again, calling for Lex to follow him as he exists the kitchen. Darcy leans against the counter and breathes deeply because seeing Harry so upset, so vulnerable only made her want to hold him tight and not let him go. She can’t stand seeing him so hurt and feeling like there is so much distance between them even when they’re standing right next to each other. It makes her yearn for something more and these conflicting emotions were doing her head in.

She enters the living room minutes later with the tea, handing the one in her favourite mug to Harry because she remembers how much he likes it. He smiles gratefully, sitting further away from her this time and Darcy frowns at this. She pulls the comforter off the back of the couch and wriggles closer to Harry so she can throw it over both of their knees and for a moment, Harry looks like he’s about to question whether this is all okay but Darcy gives him a look that has him swallowing his words and sipping at his tea instead.

“You remembered how I like my tea,” Harry mentions, sounding oddly touched by this.

Darcy rolls her eyes playfully. “It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been making it, silly. I’m not that forgetful in my old age.”

“Oh. Right, I guess it hasn’t,” Harry answers, his long fingers cupping the mug like it’s something sacred. “How’ve you been? You know, in general. Can I ask that?”

“Harry, it’s fine, don’t side step,” Darcy tells him, a little frustrated by how worried he seems. “Things have been okay. Crazy busy at work but that’s just because I have to take over a few other radio shows and do the big Christmas day show.”

“You’re doing that? I thought they always got, like, interns and stuff to do it because everyone else wants that day off?”

Darcy shrugs. “Yeah, well, I had nothing else going on and a little extra money wouldn’t hurt.”

“You aren’t going home for Christmas? Or having family over or something?” Harry asks, suddenly sounding a little concerned by all this.

“Nah, there’s not really anywhere for me to go home too, and my ma’s off gallivanting around the world. But it’s fine, really, I’ve already gone through all this with Nick. He tried to drag me home with him to experience a Grimshaw Christmas.”

Finally, a proper grin lights up Harry’s face. “Ya know, I went to one of those last year. Highly entertaining. Mr. Grimshaw did not care how many records I’d sold or how many people knew my name, all he cared about was the fact I couldn’t peel parsnips to save my life, in his eyes,” Harry laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in fondness of the memory.

Darcy finds herself smiling too. “It must’ve been nice, you know, having people see you as you and not a popstar. Bet you don’t get that too often.”

Harry shakes his head sadly. “No, not really. I mean, even my family act a bit different around me now. Not my mum or my sister thank god, they still tease me and baby me and embarrass me at every turn, but you know, extended family are always awkward or overly excited around me and it’s… it’s just a weird feeling. I mean, when I’m at home, I’m just Harry and I just want to be Harry.”

“That has to be rough, but I suppose it helps you decide who to keep close in your life.”

“Yeah, it does actually. That’s why I like being friends with Nick and his group so much, they never made a huge deal out of who I am to the rest of the world and it’s refreshing, you know? …It’s, ah, it’s also one of the things that drew me to you, actually. I mean, you knew who I was but that didn’t change your opinion on me. You’ve only ever seen me as Harry, or at the worst, popstar, and it’s nice. I like that,” Harry admits quietly and Darcy smiles over the rim of her mug.

“Glad to hear it,” Darcy teases gently. “’Cause you don’t impressa me much, popstar.”

“Are you really quoting Showbot at me?” Harry asks through a smile, Darcy just shrugging easily. “That’s just mean, even for you,” Harry laughs. He finishes off his tea and places it on the coffee table besides his half empty glass of water, before reaching out to take Darcy’s empty mug off her hands too.

He leans back against the couch, closing his eyes and breathing out softly. A quiet moment passes and all Darcy can think about is how beautiful Harry is, not only in looks but in soul too. Having him so close is almost intoxicating and Darcy can’t even stop herself from shuffling in even closer to rest her head on his shoulder, feeling him smile in response.

“I’ve missed you, Harry,” Darcy mumbles, almost too quiet for Harry to hear but he does and it makes all those feelings of desperation return, and it hurts to have something you want so close but still so out of reach.

“Me too, Darce,” Harry decides on, with a hundred other things he wants to say trapped under his tongue. “Thank you for being there for me, despite everything.”

“Anytime,” Darcy whispers, feeling herself begin to drift off, Harry’s own breathing steadying beneath her.

Darcy feels herself jerk awake to realise that she’d been dozing, with Harry wrapped around her and not even stirring at Darcy’s movements. It feels so familiar, being with Harry like this, that she almost doesn’t want to wake him but she knows that he’s going to wake up feeling like hell the next morning if she doesn’t get him up.

“Harry, hey, Harry wake up,” Darcy whispers, shaking Harry’s shoulder gently. Harry makes a disgruntled noise, burrowing further against Darcy in an attempt to remain sleeping. “Come on kid, you need some water and pain killers in you or you’ll wake up to the mother of all hangovers tomorrow.”

“Don’t care,” Harry slurs, not even completely awake. “Just wanna stay here, with you.”

Darcy tries not to let this get to her. “That’s touching, but really, we can’t stay like this.”

Harry gives a sleepy little sigh. “Why? Why don’t you want me?”

Darcy’s almost certain Harry’s not awake enough to know what he’s saying, but the question hits Darcy like a freight train, leaving her defenceless and confused while Harry just cuddles in closer, dropping off into unconsciousness again. Finally, it feels like after so many attempts of distraction and avoidance, it’s time for Darcy to finally face the truth and she knows it’ll make no difference because the person who needs to hear these words the most is asleep beside her.

“I do want you, Harry,” Darcy replies, her voice shaking at the power of these words. “I do want you, a lot. More than anything, actually. I kinda love you.”

There’s no reply, and Darcy doesn’t expect one. She lies awake for hours afterwards, running her fingers through Harry’s hair and facing up to all the thoughts she’d done her best to avoid over the last few weeks. Her final thought when she begins to fall into sleep herself is only that she has the courage to repeat those words to Harry when’s he’s awake.