Reunion

Harry grabbed the cold bottle of water handed to him by a random assistant as he quickly jogged down the few stairs of the stage he was exiting, another holding out a fresh towel that he used to wipe the sweat from around his hot neck. He threw a thank you their way but didn't know who they were and was already moving on from the vague interactions.

He could stil hear the Santiago crowd's screams leaking down the hall as he made his way down it and and towards his dressing room. He felt dozens of claps of congratulations and nodded in their general direction to make them think that he was happy to get them but all he really wanted was peace and quiet and no human interaction for the next twelve hours. After another five minutes, he was finally able to reach his dressing room, closing the door quickly and shutting everyone outside. Everyone except for a leggy redhead who was sitting on the small chair in the corner of the room.

"Hey babe, you were absolutely amazing tonight. Almost had the girls passing out when you took your t-shirt off," she said as she set the glossy magazine she was reading aside and stood up, walking her way towards him. "You look surprised to see me."

"Carrie," Harry stuttered as she reached him and wrapped her arms around his sweaty neck. "I thought you were doing that Vogue shoot in New York until Friday and then going straight back to London."
Her face showed signs of hurt from the seeming dismissal but she soldiered on, her body pressing against his. "I tried to call you like a zillion times in the last four days but couldn't get a hold of you so I called up Robby and told him that the shoot was getting done early and I was flying in to meet up with you tonight." She began to place quick and hungry kisses along his neck. "Didn't he tell you?"

Harry thought back to the detached conversations he had had with his manager over the past few days. He had heard Carrie's name mentioned a few times but hadn't taken in any of the details that were being shared. And his mind had been such a jumble since Louis had called and told him that Liam had actually passed that few conversations had made any firm impression on him. But he saw the look of hurt threatening to spread further across Carrie's face as she stopped her trail of kisses and looked up at him. He trailed his finger along her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I'm sorry babe. He told me that you were coming but I just got the dates wrong that's all. I thought you were showing up tomorrow night." He saw her face shift again, not quite happy, not quite sad, not quite pissed. "I've just had a lot going on and this whole leg of the tour has been bonkers. I'm sorry about missing your calls."

"That's okay." She stroked his bare forearms with her light fingers, the contact seeming foreign to him. In the entire time they had been married, they had probably only spent a total of two months together. And half of that had been spent in a sweaty heap in any bed or flat surface they could find. "I know that you've been dealing with alot, especially since Liam died. That was why I wanted to come and see you. I wanted to make sure that you were at least partially okay. And it's kind of hard to do it when I can't get a hold of you so I decided to do it in person." The dig was there. Subtle but there. But there was also also genuine concern as she spoke, which surprised him. Harry hadn't really talked to her about the emotions that had been weighing on him. And Liam's painful death was only the tip of a very large iceberg. HIs relationship with her was another. Because to be honest, they didn't really talk about much. They hung out, the laughed, they partied, they had amazing sex. But they didn't talk abou thow each other was feeling. That wasn't part of the deal they had silently made that night in Vegas. And her introduction of concern into the very delicately balanced equation made his skin itch. Her hands that were drifting on his skin felt invasive and her kisses that usually made his blood boil with need felt sloppy. He began to push her away, an action she had never felt before. And she didn't like it. She tried to fight him, tried to make his body respond to her the way she knew it always did but Harry was not having any of it today. He wasn't having any of her. After a few more moments, she gave up and took a step back, set her hands on her narrow hips and arched her perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"What the fuck," she said in a voice no longer carrying any concern. "You avoid my calls for four days, you don't pay attention to the fact that I planed on flying hours to see you even though I could have been on a paying job. And when I do get here, you aclt like you would rather I had stayed in bloody New York." Harry let the words be thrown at him, knowing he deserved each and every one of them. She walked roughly past him, her shoulders brushing past him as she did. When she reached the door, she turned to face him, her eyes angry as she glared at her husband. "We've been married for over one year Harry and you treat me like a girl you met last week for a shag and now can't figure out just how to get rid of me without me becoming a loose end. I married you because I love you. I didn't do it blind or drunk but I did it because I thought that I could make this work. That you cared about me enough to treat me with some dignity that might turn in to love. But I was wrong." She set her hand on the doorhandle and turned it. When she was about to leave, she faced him one more time, her body starting to shake but her voice came out clear and concise. "I won't try to force this anymore. When you want to try and put some effort in yourself, give me a call. My number's in your phone in case you don't remember it. Under wife."

And then she was gone. Harry stood alone in the room, just as he had wanted when he had first come in. And it felt completely wrong.

Half an hour later, Harry was still moping. Robby had knocked several times but he had been told to go away rather loudly. He was now sitting in the chair that Carrie had vacated with a growing warm beer on the table and randomly plucking at his guitar when his phone rang beside him. He was hoping it was Carrie but instead Niall's goofy face lit up the screen. He was going to ignore it but decided talking to anybody might be a distraction from his own self created misery.

"Nialler," he answered with a bit too much enthusiasm. Especially since he knew that Niall was pissed because he hadn't come to see Liam or flew in for the funeral. But Harry was good at skipping over small details like that. "How are you doing?"

"Hey Haz." His voice sounded tired. Not like he got a crappy night's sleep tired but tired like he had been dealing with way too much tired. And Harry knew that he had. Watching his best friend die, helping his widow plan the funeral and he was pretty sure that there was a baby making it's way into the picture at some point. "I know that this is pretty late but Louis said this would be the best time to get a hold of you. With all of the touring and press and all."

"Tommo would be correct on that one." Louis was the only one that he kept in regular contact with. Their friendship that had started during the X-Factor competition had remained through the years and it was one of the few relationships in life that Harry actually put an effort in to. "What can I help you with?"

Harry heard the hesitation before Niall spoke, heard the silence that hung between them. It reminded him just how close they had been by how far apart they were now. And he had let it happen.

"This is going to sound like it's completely off the wall and out of nowhere but I have a request. Well, I mean that ..." Niall was tripping over his words, not something he did usually. Harry would have helped him out if he knew where the conversation was heading. "It's not exactly me but it is Liam who wants, I mean wanted for me to call you."

Harry felt his gut clench at the name. Liam. Honest, sensible, trustworthy, reliable, loyal Liam. The friend that he had turned his back on when he was needed in the worst way. And guiltily he thought that it wasn't the first time he had done it although it thankfully hadn't been as public. An immediate need to defend himself came over him.

"Look Niall, I know you're pissed I didn't come back for everything but I really couldn't. We have this tour booked so tight that even one day would have been too hard to coordinate." At least that's what he had told himself in the quiet moments when it was just him and the night and the sense of guilt washed over him. "If Danielle needs help with the kids or the bills or anything, just let me know but I just can't come back right now."

"God damn it Harry, sometimes ..." Niall paused again and Harry pictured him closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and running his hand through his blonde hair. It was what he did when he needed to calm himself down, when he was trying to mediate a problem. Harry hadn't seen it in a long while but it was still imprinted in his mind. "Look, I'll just spell it out. Liam wrote us all letters before he died, one for each of us. And he wanted us to get together for two weeks to read them."

"Shit man, it doesn't take two weeks to read four letters. And once I'm done with South America in a month I'm going to head out to do the North Americain part. That's going to take another six months."

"And you have a six week break in between." Damn, Harry thought. Niall had done his research probably through Louis. "Assuming I can get everybody's schedules to line up at some point during those six weeks, there is no reason that you can't be part of this. It's not just about the letters Harry. Liam wanted us to hang out again, try to be friends like we were at some point. Remember the time we spent at your parent's house when we were put together? How great it was for us to bond and get to know each other? That's what Liam wants. Us to get to know each other again."

The spirit of it drew Harry in. He remembered the times that they had spent in that small house, hanging around by the campfire with guitars as they wrote random bits of songs. It was a time that he wouldn't mind revisiting again. But what if it wasn't the same? What if they all sat in a circle and had nothing to say? Or maybe they would have too much to say and it wouldn't be good?

"I don't know. I was kind of looking for a break when I got back. Maybe hang out with my wife." If she would let him back in the house.

"You have four weeks for that." Niall's voice was quiet as he spoke. And Harry heard the pain in it. The pain of losing his friend. And the pain of losing the friendships that could have helped him through it. Could have helped each of them through it. "Just give him this. Give him this and then you can tour and party and be the rockstar all you want. I won't ask for anything else."

Harry thought for a moment more, his heart and mind arguing each other. And for the first time in a long time, he gave in to the one that had been buried underneath years of an uncaring attitude.

"Alright." He heard Niall take a deep breath and he knew it was out of relief. "Call me with the time and place and I'll talk to Robby and we'll see if I can make it work."