Collide, Ignite

A ringing pulled Reilly out of sleep. Groaning, she reached over and plucked her phone off the night stand next to her bed, knocking over the picture of her and her mother in the process. Eyes squeezed shut so the light from the screen wouldn't blind her, she answered the phone, having no idea who would be on the other end.

"Hello?" she mumbled almost incoherently.

"Reilly?" a familiar Irish accent inquired.

She practically shot up in bed, suddenly very awake. His voice sounded unsteady. "Niall?" she asked, though she knew it was him. She questioned it more out of confusion than anything. They hadn't spoken outside of casual, polite small talk in group settings in over two years. A sniffle and a ragged breath came through the phone. "Niall, did something happen?" she asked. What other reason would he have for calling her at, she looked at the clock, nearly two in the morning?

The line was silent and Reilly had to pull the phone away from her ear to make sure the call hadn't disconnected. It hadn't. Just as she said his name again, he spoke. "My mom's been in an accident," he said, voice wavering as the words left his mouth. "I didn't know who to call. Just needed to talk to someone," he told her.

Sirens went off in Reilly's head and her heart raced. "Is she," she began, but her voice cracked, leaving her question hanging.

"In the hospital," he said. "Just spoke to my brother. He's there with her. I just-" His voice cracked and he let out a garbled sob.

"Niall, where are you?" she asked.

He drew in a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "Just gettin' to my flat. Was out for a walk when my brother called," he told her.

Reilly threw the blanket off and got out of bed. "Don't go anywhere," she said, searching for her shoes in the dark. She found them and slipped her feet into them, not bothering to tie the laces. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"You don't have to-" he began.

She cut him off as she threw a jacket over her shoulders, grabbed her purse and car keys and headed out her bedroom and down the short hallway. "I'm already on my way," she argued. "Leave the door unlocked for me." And without giving him a chance to respond, she ended the call and dropped her phone into her purse.

Reason for going to him escaped her. It didn't make sense that she would since they were no longer friends. But something pulled at her insides. The way he sounded made her heart ache. He needed someone, and he'd called her.

It was more than a ten minute drive from her apartment to his place, but given the time and how few people were on the road, she made it there in just that. He'd left the door unlocked, just as she'd told him to, and she let herself in. The light in the entryway was on, but it was the only one. She walked quickly down the hall to his room and gave a gentle knock before pushing the door open.

Niall was laying on his bed, propped up on several pillows, red faced and staring at the TV that he'd probably only turned on so he wouldn't be in complete silence. Butterflies exploded in Reilly's stomach and her heart raced. She kicked her shoes off but left her jacket on due to the chilly temperature of his room and climbed onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard. Though she'd knocked, it was almost like he hadn't yet noticed she was there.

"Niall," she said softly.

He slowly turned his head toward her. His eyes were bright with tears, face stained from where they'd trailed down his cheeks. "Reilly," he mumbled. Tears spilled from his eyes as he rolled toward her. His arms circled her body and he rested his head against her stomach, hugging her tightly like his life depended on it.

She held him close to her and tangled her fingers in his hair. "It's okay." She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "It's okay," she repeated. "I've got you."

Reilly jerked awake suddenly. For a moment, and the second time in less than twenty four hours, she couldn't remember where she was. The room around her was unfamiliar, and she was disoriented from the dream, or memory, rather, she'd just woken from.

She blinked rapidly and breathed deeply until she finally got her bearings. Everything came back rather quickly, including the sinking feeling that had been in her stomach since Niall had first opened the door. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, willing the feeling away, but it didn't help. All she saw behind her closed lids was Niall's face, and it was quite clear she wouldn't be getting back to sleep any time soon.

Instead of trying, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The house was cold because that was how Niall was comfortable, but she wanted to bundle herself up in sweatshirts and blankets to keep warm. She filled the kettle and turned on the stove, thinking that tea would help, both with giving warmth and her sudden inability to sleep.

Being unfamiliar with Niall's kitchen, she ended up opening almost every cupboard and cabinet in search of tea, sugar, and a mug. Where he kept things didn't make a lot of sense, but somehow that seemed characteristic of him. Lexie would have said it was the way of the leprechaun. The thought brought a smile to Reilly's face, one she didn't try to hide as she pulled a mug down from the cupboard. She turned around to set it on the counter and nearly jumped out of her skin.

Niall was standing on the other side of the counter, sleepy and shirtless. One hand was in the pocket of his sweatpants, and the other was scratching the back of his head. "What're you doing?" he asked. His voice was husky, accent heavy the way it always was when he was tired or had just woken up.

He kept his bright blue eyes trained on her. The fire from earlier seemed to have been smothered, at least temporarily. Something stirred in Reilly's stomach. Something she couldn't place. She stared at him for a moment, curious if he'd forgotten he was angry with her, or if he was just too tired to show it.

Dinner with his family had started off okay. His father had been surprised to see her, but delighted at the same time. Niall seemed to have relaxed as soon as he set foot inside the house. He politely introduced her to the family members she hadn't met, which was most of them. His grandmother had taken a liking to her the moment she saw Reilly's Irish nose and the freckles that slayed across her cheeks. The rest of her Italian features didn't matter, she'd said, the Irish nose gave her away.

It wasn't until they actually sat down to eat that someone noticed the ring and began asking questions. Niall immediately tensed up, and his whole attitude toward her changed. He became short with her again, giving only simple responses when she'd say something to him, or pretending not to hear her at all.

"I couldn't sleep," she told him. She lifted the mug in her hands and gave him a questioning look. He nodded and she turned to grab another mug from the cupboard she'd just been in. "Did I wake you?" she asked, her back still turned to him. He didn't respond and her heart started to sink into her stomach again. She was beginning to think that as much as she hated him yelling at her, it was preferable to being given the cold shoulder.

He was staring at her when she turned back around after taking a deep breath. His eyes still had a hint of sadness to them, but there was something else behind them. Nostalgia, maybe, or uncertainty.

"Couldn't sleep either," he said finally.

Reilly nodded and leaned against the counter. They stood in silence until the kettle began to whistle. She grabbed it quickly and poured it over the tea bags she'd dropped into the mugs. Neither said anything while they waited for the tea to steep, but she could feel his eyes on her when she added milk and sugar to the tea and then handed him one of the mugs across the counter. Their fingertips barely brushed as he accepted the cup from her, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through her body.

He took a sip immediately and raised his eyebrows at her. "You remember how I like my tea," he commented as she stirred her own tea and then took a tiny sip.

Reilly merely gave a shrug and took another sip of her tea. Her cheeks tinted pink, a reaction she couldn't shake. "Some things you just don't forget," she said shyly. A wave of nostalgia hit her, but she fought it off. She had to keep herself in the present, no matter how much some part of her was longing for a tiny piece of the past.

Niall only hummed in response before taking another sip of his tea. He didn't look at her. Instead he stared into his cup of tea. Something seemed to be weighing heavily on his mind, and Reilly wanted so desperately to ask him what it was. For all the times he'd listen to her spill her thoughts, she wanted to hear whatever it was he had to say, even if it hurt her, even if it killed her. But for fear of him shutting her down, she didn't.

She wrapped both hands around her mug, letting the warmth seep into her skin and tried to look anywhere other than him. But his perplexed look had her curious, and she couldn't keep her eyes anywhere else for long. "I had this weird dream," she said finally, needing something to fill the space between them. She missed the days when the silence wasn't weird. Niall glanced up from his tea for a moment. He didn't say anything but raised his eyebrows in question and then dropped his gaze back to the liquid inside the mug.

"Or, well, it was more like a memory, I guess," she went on. This time when he shifted his gaze back to her, he kept it on her. Curiosity had etched into his expression. "It was that night you found out your mom was in an accident, and you called me," she said. His eyebrows raised again, this time in surprise. She shrugged and dropped her gaze to the marble countertop. "I'd forgotten about that," she confessed, her voice suddenly very quiet.

"I didn't," he said, keeping his eyes on her. "You must've broke a ton of laws to get to me in only ten minutes time. Was one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me," he told her. "Really meant a lot to have you there."

Reilly nodded but didn't look up at him. "That's why what you said earlier was unfair. About me not being your friend," she said.

A soft sigh escaped him. His mug made a tiny clink as he set it on the counter. Reilly looked up at him for a brief moment and saw the mess of emotions that had taken over his face. Suddenly, it hurt to look at him. It hurt to be near him. Everything hurt. She looked away, focusing her eyes on her hands still wrapped around her mug.

"I know," he said, moving his head in an attempt to catch her gaze. "Reilly." He spoke her name softly, but she wouldn't look up. "I know," he repeated. "I was angry. I am angry. Christ, Reilly, you can't possibly blame me for that," he said.

She shook her head at him. "I don't blame you," she said. "I just wish," she paused when her voice began to waver. She sighed heavily and lifted her mug to her lips. He'd made it clear he didn't want to hear what she had to say. There was no point in exhausting the topic any further. "Nevermind," she said.

Without looking at Niall, she turned and walked out of the kitchen. She was headed for the stairs to go back to bed. Defeat washed over her, as did a wave of sadness. Nothing she could do or say would be enough to earn his forgiveness. It was her own fault. She kept telling herself that as she got closer to the stairs, as the tears got closer to the surface. She had done this.

"If you could tell me only one thing," Niall said as she lifted a foot onto the first step, "what would it be?" he asked.

She put her foot back onto the floor and stared at the steps in front of her. She searched through the hundreds of things racing through her mind for one that might make a difference. One thing that might make him listen. She turned slowly and look across the room at him, and their eyes met in the middle. He looked almost desperate and her heart nearly exploded in her chest.

She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him and hold him. She wanted the warmth of his flesh to radiate through her pajamas and warm her body. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to feel safe in his embrace. She wanted to fall asleep next to him and tell him that everything would be all right.

But would it be? Could everything ever be all right? In her experience, it never had been, and she wasn't free to do any of those things. She knew she shouldn't even be thinking about such things. The image of Owen flashed in her mind, and she felt a tiny pang in her chest. Guilt. Here she was ready to spill her heart to Niall, when she shouldn't even be there.

She looked at Niall again. The image of Owen vanished instantly and was replaced by nineteen year old Niall, pleading with her on the doorstep of her apartment. The look of desperation on his face then matching the one on his face now.

"I guess," she said finally. It came out croaked and she took a sip of her tea to clear her throat. "That day," she said, but her voice cracked. Tears rushed to her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.

"When you said you didn't want me in your life anymore?" he suggested, one eyebrow raised high. There was hint of bitterness in his words.

A hiccup escaped when Reilly opened her mouth to protest. She drew in a deep, slow breath and nodded as she released it. She wiped at tears that slipped out the corner of her eye. "When you were walking away, I watched you. I knew I'd made a monumental mistake," she admitted.

Confusion flashed across his face and he started to take a step toward her, but then he stopped. "Why didn't you say something?" he asked.

Reilly shrugged. "How could I?" she asked. "After everything I'd said to you, how could I just take it back? It would have made everything worse. Because I couldn't give you what you deserve." She paused. Frustration grew inside of her. There was so much she wanted to say but she was fumbling for words. "It didn't matter how badly my heart was breaking. I had to give you the opportunity to move on, to find someone who was actually deserving of what you had to give," she told him. "I'm messed up and ugly on the inside."

His eyebrow quirked at the change of tense in her last statement. "Don't you think it should have been up to me to decide who is deserving of my heart?" he asked. Reilly opened her mouth, but he didn't give her a chance to get any words out. "You think you're some kind of monster?" he asked.

Reilly shrugged. "Aren't I?" she asked. A fresh round of tears flowed from her eyes and she made no attempt to stop them. "Isn't that what you've been telling me since I got here? That I'm terrible? I feel pretty terrible. Every time I've seen you over the last five years I've felt terrible. Because every time I saw you it was just a huge reminder that the girl I tried to leave behind in Boston when I came to London was still inside me, only worse," she said. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could realize she was saying too much.

The look of confusion that crossed his face too much for her to handle. There were inevitable questions that would come next that she wasn't ready to answer. This wasn't the way she wanted to tell him about that part of her life.

Biting her lip, she turned her back to him and started up the stairs. He called after her, but she ignored him and ran the rest of the way up the stairs and into the guest room, letting the door slam behind her. She set her mug that was still full of tea on the dresser. Tears rained down her face as she climbed into the bed. She cursed Liam for giving her a plane ticket, and then cursed herself for letting him convince her this was a good idea. It wasn't. It was a terrible idea.

There was a soft knock on the bedroom door, but she didn't say anything, praying he would go away. He called her name softly through the door, and her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to be anywhere but where she was. Finally, she heard his sigh echo through the silent house and his footsteps retreated down the hallway. With a soft sigh, she pulled the blanket up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, willing a dreamless sleep to come to her.