"I'm sure there is nothing wrong with her, Harry."

Harry pouts, holding Lennon close to his chest as Gemma sets a cuppa down in front of him. "She was supposed to start making noise, like, three months ago," He points out. "She never makes eye contact, doesn't smile or laugh. I do think somethings wrong."

Gemma twists her mouth and sits across from Harry. Lennon wiggles around in Harry's hold a bit, and he can't help but grin. "What're you doing, Ms. Lennon Blue?" He asks, kissing her cheek. The eighteen month old doesn't react. She does lean into Harry's chest, gripping onto his shirt with her little hand.

"I'll take her to the doctor with you, if you want," Gemma says. Harry sighs softly, taking a sip of his tea.

"It's okay, I don't want you to miss work," He says with a shrug. "I'll be fine taking her by myself."

♛

"Which colour do you want, baby?" Harry asks, pointing to the green, red, and yellow apples. Lennon looks at them for a few seconds, her hand gripping the shopping cart so Harry knows she won't run off.

"Y-Yellow?" She guesses.

"Good job, love," Harry smiles, putting three yellow apples into a plastic bag. "What kind of juice do you want?"

Lennon doesn't say anything, instead she starts clicking her tongue over and over. Harry puts the apples in the cart before squatting down in front of Lennon.

"Lennon, petal," He says softly. "What kind of juice do you want?"

Lennon just grunts, looking away from Harry. Harry sighs and is about to just stand up and keep walking when Lennon suddenly lets go of the trolley and fucking bolts in the other direction, her rose in hand.

"Lennon Blue, get back here," Harry demands, rushing towards her and scooping her up. Lennon screams, and everyone looks at the two of them. Harry's used to it. He carries Lennon back to the trolley and sits her in the place where you usually have toddlers sit. People are giving him strange looks. Oh well.

"You cannot throw a tantrum whenever you're upset, Lennon," Harry says sternly, but he's wavering, because Lennon is sobbing and it's making him feel horrible. "Lennon, stop."

"No, no, no!" Lennon screeches. Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before just pushing the trolley towards the juice. Lennon is kicking his stomach and pounding her fists onto the handle of the shopping trolley. Harry doesn't pay any attention to it. If she knows she won't get what she wants by throwing a tantrum, she'll stop.

That's what Harry thinks until Lennon leans down and smashes her face with the handle of the trolley. "Lennon," Harry says exasperatedly, noticing that Lennon's nose is bleeding now. They might have to cut this shopping trip short.

"Can you not control your child?" A woman mutters as she walks by, but Harry hears her. He sighs miserably and grabs the first carton of juice he sees before making his way to the self checkout.

♛

"How was the doctor's appointment, H?" Gemma asks as she shrugs her jacket off and hangs it on Harry's coat rack. Harry keeps his eyes on Lennon as she closes her eyes in bliss every time he brushes her hair out of her face. She used to love when he touched her.

"Um," Harry twists his mouth. Gemma looks over at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Is she okay?" She asks cautiously. Harry psighs, holding Lennon close to his chest as she nuzzles her face into his t-shirt.

"She's got low-functioning autism," He lets it out all in one breath. "At least, that's what they think it is. They told me to take note of any more symptoms she develops as she gets older and bring her back."

"Oh," Gemma breathes. She sits down next to Harry on the sofa, watching as Lennon snuggles into him. "That's. Oh. Okay."

"Yeah," Harry mumbles.

"Are you okay?" Gemma asks softly.

"Um, yeah," Harry shrugs. "I mean. It's not like I'm going to love her any less. She's still my daughter. I just–what if I'm not a good enough parent, you know? What if I can't be enough for her? I don't know how to take care of a child with autism, Gemma."

"The doctor must've said something, yeah?" Gemma points out. "Like, a website or support group or something."

"She gave me, like, seven pamphlets," Harry sighs. "It's going to be like, ten times harder than having any other kid, isn't it?"

♛

"You did not behave very well today, Lennon Blue," Harry grunts, holding a napkin he found in his glove compartment to Lennon's bleeding nose. The wrestle to get her into her car seat resulted in both of them to have splotches of blood all over them. Lennon just cries, trying to shove Harry's hand away from her nose.

"Hate you," Lennon grunts, kicking the back of the passenger seat as Harry leans his head back to stop himself from crying out of frustration. He knows she doesn't mean it. She had probably just heard it in a show or something.

"Lennon, stop kicking the seat," He says sternly, taking the napkin away and seeing her nose has stopped bleeding. "When we get home you are taking a bath right away."

Lennon just keeps crying. Harry shuts the car door and walks around to the driver's side, climbing into the car and reaching into the backseat to pick up Lennon's rose off of the floor. "Here, love," He sighs. Lennon snatches it from him, hugging it to her chest as he starts the car.

He turns on a slow Fleetwood Mac song to calm Lennon down while he starts to drive home, dreading getting Lennon into the bath. He lets her take showers with him when she's good, because she likes the way the water falls from up high and she always giggles when Harry splashes her with water, but she hasn't been good, and he needs to remind himself of that. He's trying really hard to be a stricter parent, and he thinks he's doing okay at it.

When they get home and inside the house, it's a twelve minute chase before Harry finally gets Lennon in the tub. She screams until he starts to wash her hair, which she's always liked, and when she refuses to put her clothes on afterwards, Harry lets her walk around in just her underwear. He doesn't care anymore.

He gets a call from Louis while Lennon is playing with some toy cars in the lounge. Louis likes to call and ask how his day has been, Harry's found out.

"Hello, love," Louis greets, his voice warm as the sun, and Harry almost melts. "How was your day today?"

"It..." Harry twists his mouth. "It wasn't great actually. Lennon had a meltdown in the grocery store and made her nose bleed so we had to leave early."

"Oh, shit," Louis says surprisedly while Harry starts to make himself some tea. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Harry assures, smiling to himself.

"Very sorry to interrupt," Louis sighs. "But Lottie is interrupting our conversation because she wants to ask you if it's normal to be nauseous when you're thirty-six weeks pregnant."

Harry giggles. "Yes, it's normal. Tell her to drink plenty of water and lay down if it lasts for a while."

"Thank you very much," Louis chuckles.

♛

"Ms. Lennon, no more of that," Harry carefully pulls Lennon's thumb out of her mouth.

"You sucked your thumb until you were nine," Anne points out with a teasing smirk. Harry shoots her a glare, and Lennon sticks her thumb right back into her mouth.

"Lennon Blue," Harry says warning, taking the three year old's thumb out of her mouth again. Lennon puts one of her hands on the table to steady herself in Harry's lap.

"Bwoo," She says quietly. Anne, Gemma, and Harry's eyes all widen.

"What was that, pretty girl?" Harry coos, his grip on Lennon tightening.

"Ba-wooo," Lennon crows.

"You heard that, right?" Harry asks, looking up at his mother and sister. "She said her middle name? Her first word?" Anne nods, while Gemma just beams at Lennon.

"Oh, baby," Harry says softly, kissing Lennon's cheek. Lennon clicks her tongue before poking Harry's chest three times. There was something with her and poking him. Harry kisses her cheek again. His little girl is starting to speak.