Sadiiie

Sadie

Sadie?

WAKE UP DAMMIT

I'm bored by myself.

When did we move to the floor?

Never mind, I said the couch was too squishy, I remember now.

WAKE UP BEAUTY

WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP

WAKEY WAKEY MY BROTHER MADE BAKEY

Ew gross I almost threw up just writing that.

Sades?

Muffin :)

Pleaaaaase wake up

I'm bored

It's so louddd with your phooone buzzzzzzziiiiinnnnnnngggggg how can you still be asleep?

THE PHONE IS LITERALLY RIGHT BY YOUR HEAD.

My brother just sent me this^

He said we make a cute couple

SO WAKE UP

WAKE U--Oh, you're awake now.

HI! ^_^

You're too happy for a sick person. -_-

I'm feeling better :)

I can tell XD I'm glad :)

Sadie sat up and rubbed her eyes with her fists. "What time is it?"

"Three," Harry said simply.

His voice was still hoarse, and Sadie had a feeling it would be for a little while. She watched as he cleared his throat, then winced and brought a hand up to it.

"Your throat hurts?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, hardly getting the word out before coughing. "I wanna go home, Sadie."

"You do?"

Harry nodded, looking sad. "I wanna see my mom and daddy."

"How come?"

Harry blinked at her. "Don't you want to see your parents?"

"Yeah, but I see them a lot."

"I'm on tour a lot usually, I can't just see them whenever I like. Usually I see them through a phone screen." Harry said, and his voice had a strange tone to it, almost like he was trying not to cry. "I miss them, you know? They're the first people I ever met who really loved me, besides my brothers, but that's different, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Sadie nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"No, it's okay. I know what you meant." he said, stifling a yawn as he climbed onto the couch, wrapping the blanket around his body. "I just . . . I want to be around for them, I want to see them. They raised me, and I love them, and sometimes I just wish I was still a little kid, so I could run into the living room to play and see them dancing, or run into the kitchen and see them at the table, and just cuddle up on the couch with them for movie nights; or have them teach me things and play games with them and laugh with them, and run up to them for hugs whenever I like."

Sadie was quiet, feeling her throat tighten as he spoke. It was clear how much he loved his parents, and it made her think about her own mom and the way they'd go to the park to ride bikes when she was little.

"I've never really been away from them when I'm sick, either." he said softly. "I know it's silly, but it's different, you know? Being away from them and not having them to take care of you. And I know I can take care of myself, and I have, and I'm not completely alone, like you and Hayden were there, but I just . . . I want my mom is all, I want her to make me peppermint tea and make sure I'm just . . . sitting there on the couch cuddled up in blankets, nice and warm, watching the television. One time I had the flu and she did that, and because I was so tired I said I wanted her to pick a show because I'd just fall asleep and I didn't want to miss anything good."

"Nice, what did she pick?"

"The Bachelor,"

"Why?" Sadie laughed. "That show is horrible."

"Which is why we stayed up and watched five hours worth of it." Harry laughed. "I think I clean passed out during the sixth episode, my mom says I waited until the commercials and then I just plonked right down and fell asleep in her lap."

Sadie burst out laughing and even with tears in her eyes she could see that Harry loved the sound of it, the sight of it. "So," she finally said. "You want to go home?"

"Yeah, I really, really do."

"Okay," Sadie smiled, breathing out a small laugh. "Then I'll get you home."

"I like the sound of your voice," Harry said softly, a small, somewhat crooked smile plastered on his face. "And the way you laugh."

"Yeah?" Sadie asked, having never heard this before.

"Yeah," Harry said, swallowing nervously. "I like it a lot."

"Does it make you get all tingly inside?" Sadie joked.

"Yeah, it does."

Sadie blinked, not expecting that response, or any response for that matter. "I didn't know that."

"You're beautiful,"

"No I'm not," Sadie said, shaking her head a little and ducking it to let her hair fall down to cover the blush of her cheeks.

Harry leaned forward a bit, reaching out to reach his hand to her hair; his fingers brushed her cheek as he pushed the curtain of red hair out of her face. "Yes, you are." he said quietly. "Most beautiful I've ever seen."

"Who's hungry?" Hayden called cheerily as he entered the living room. "I've got soup ready, and Eli's made biscuits."

Harry made a face. "I think I'll pass."

"If you want to go home, you should eat something." Sadie said hesitantly. "Do you think you could hold anything down?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "Not much."

"How about a little soup and some water?" Sadie asked, stretching again to wake up more. "We could get some medicine into you."

"Okay," Harry agreed halfheartedly, giving her a pout that told her he was not very happy with the compromise.

Sadie stood to stretch properly, yawning widely, her cheeks turning pink. "Sorry."

"No, you're cute." Harry smiled at her.

Sadie blinked, wondering if Harry would ask her to meet his parents. It wasn't like they were dating or anything, not officially, so there wasn't really a reason for him to invite her in, but maybe he would.

"Come cuddle with me," Harry mumbled, holding his arms out. "'m cold. I need body warmth."

"No," Sadie laughed. "We're about to eat."

"I don't want to though,"

"I know,"

"So don't make me."

Sadie rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm asking you to go run a marathon, I'm asking you to eat a tiny bit of soup and drink just a little water. You've been sick all night, it's not healthy for you to have nothing in your system."

Harry whined and flopped back onto the couch. "My tummy hurts though."

"Are you going to be sick?"

"No," Harry mumbled dejectedly, pressing his face into his blanket. "Which means I have to eat, right?"

"Yep," Sadie said.

"Pop the 'p,'" Harry said tiredly, his voice muffled from the blanket.

"What?"

"The 'p,'" Harry mumbled, lifting his face up from the blanket. "You're supposed to pop it, it makes it sound cooler."

"You're ridiculous," Sadie giggled. "Now, I'm going to go use the bathroom, and when I come back, I expect you to be awake and in the kitchen with your brother."

Harry groaned and let his head drop back onto the blanket, but when Sadie came back he was sitting at the kitchen table, still wrapped in his blanket and looking warily at a small bowl of soup.

"I don't wanna," he said the moment she walked into his line of sight.

"Please Harry?" Sadie said softly, sitting down beside him. "I need you to eat something."

"Yeah but what if I get sick again. I'm not nauseous now but that doesn't mean I won't be."

"Okay, well if you do feel sick again we'll deal with it. But for now you have to eat something. Besides, if you start feeling sick with nothing in your stomach, that might be worse for you than if you had eaten."

"Okay," Harry sighed, snaking his hand out from his blanket to pick up his spoon. "But just for the record, I don't like this."

Sadie rubbed his arm, then mouthed a thank you to Hayden as a bowl of soup was placed in front of her. She didn't want to give Harry any possible opportunity to start talking in favor of eating his soup.

Harry managed a total of five spoonfuls before he pushed the bowl away and shook his head. He looked really tired now, and Sadie felt bad for him all over again when he turned to her with glassy eyes and said, "I can't."

"It's okay, you did good." She said softly. "You did fine, I'm proud of you."

She had the feeling that if Harry were feeling better he might comment on the fact that she had just said she was proud of him for eating soup, and how that was the simplest task in the world, but she also knew that right now, it was the hardest thing he could possibly be doing.

"Here, drink something." she said, nudging a glass of water towards him.

"Mm-mm," Harry shook his head, looking down at the table probably without seeing it. "Don' wan' more in m' stomach."

"Do you feel sick?" Sadie asked, slightly worried and wondering if maybe he had been right and she shouldn't have pushed him to eat.

Harry shook his head. "No, it just hurts."

"I'm sorry," Sadie said. "Maybe I shouldn't have--"

"No, you're fine." Harry cut her off and gave her a weak smile. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "Caring?"

Sadie smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "Of course I care."

Harry probably would have responded to that with a self-depreciating comment, but opted to fold his arms on the table and rest his head. He was getting a headache now, and hearing Hayden and Elianna talking in the living room wasn't helping.

"Can we go home now?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, let me just finish eating first." Sadie smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. "And I'll get your brother to put your bike in my truck."

"Okay," Harry nodded, resting his forehead on his arms and closing his eyes.

"Hey," Sadie said softly. "You good?"

Harry shrugged, not really wanting to talk, and after a moment he heard the sound of Sadie's spoon clinking the bowl as she started eating again. A couple minutes passed, and the pounding in his head was growing more insistent.

"Sadie?" he groaned. "Can you ask my brother for some painkillers?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll get something for your stomach, too."

"Thanks," Harry groaned, not having the energy to have gotten up and done it himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this sick, and while he wasn't currently nauseous, he certainly didn't feel good.

He heard Sadie talking quietly in the other room, and he marveled at how wonderful her voice sounded to his ears and how cute it was that she was trying to be quiet for him. The thought of opening his eyes in a few minutes to see her face made shivers go through his body, and the thought of her at all put a smile on his face right there at the kitchen table.

He heard the sound of her shoes clicking on the floor, and couldn't help but groan a little at the offending sound reaching his ears, sounding twice as loud with his headache and causing tears to prick up in his eyes.

"Here," Sadie whispered, placing a hand on his back and setting down two different bottles onto the table.

Harry sniffled loudly, feeling tears start slipping down his cheeks, and he kept his face hidden with the misguided that hope that she hadn't noticed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Sadie asked gently, crouching down beside him and resting a hand on his arm. "Look at me."

Harry shook his head, trying and failing to will the tears away with the pain in his head. It wasn't doing his stomach any favors, and he wondered worriedly if he'd end up being sick later.

"Hey," Sadie repeated, rubbing his arm a little. "What's wrong? Can you talk to me?"

Again Harry shook his head, not trusting himself to speak and still not getting his stupid tears to stop. Why couldn't he just feel better already, dammit? He didn't want Sadie seeing him like that, he didn't want her worrying because he was miserable, or to have her run herself ragged taking care of him, which was exactly what a girl like her would be doing, he just knew it. Hadn't she already been up in the middle of the night with him, and again in the morning? Hadn't she helped him when he was throwing up and when he was tired and wanted company? Hadn't she even slept on the floor with him? Surely she hadn't wanted to do those things, it was just what nice girls like her did. The kind of girl who actually cared about somebody's feelings, and wanted to help someone, and wanted to be a good girlfriend and so she tried her hardest not realizing that she already was the perfect girlfriend. . .

"Harry," Sadie said, her voice still gentle but definitely firmer. Sort of an 'if you don't look at me on your own then I'm going to make you look at me myself' kind of tone, and so he sniffled again and slowly turned his head to look at her, seeing the concerned blue eyes he had already guessed he would.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

"I don' feel good," he whispered.

"No shit," she rolled her eyes. "I meant why are you crying?"

"My head hurts," he whispered, feeling his nostrils flare as a new wave of tears came. "I can't even think because it keeps pounding. It's like a marching band got stuck or something."

Sadie let out a little sigh and bit her lower lip as she thought. "I'm really sorry you feel so gross."

Harry gave her a small smile, closing his eyes. "I's alright. Not your fault."

"But I don't like seeing you so upset. You don't deserve to be in pain."

Harry laughed quietly. "I've been in pain before, and for years."

"That's not--"

"Please stop talking," he begged, opening his eyes and letting more tears fall. "I can't listen, my head hurts. My head hurts, Sadie, it really hurts."

Sadie swallowed hard and brushed his tears away with her thumbs. Her eyes seemed to be searching his for some kind of reaction, but all Harry could do was keep staring at her with a pout on his lips. He wanted her to hug him, and give him cuddles, and maybe rub his forehead and give it little kisses, and he wanted to get warm again and take a nap with her, but instead he was stuck sitting in his brother's kitchen with a bowl of soup getting cold in front of him and a pounding headache that blurred his vision.

"I love you," Sadie whispered, brushing at his tears again and standing up to kiss his forehead. "I'm sorry you're sick."

"Jus' hold me?" Harry asked, not even caring that his voice was more of a whimper now.

Sadie pressed another kiss to his forehead and wrapped her arms around him, letting him bury his face in her and breathe in the scent of her perfume. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her body against his; it made him warm and it made him feel safe and loved, and that's all that he wanted.

He whimpered as another sharp pain pulsed in his head, and he felt Sadie's arms tighten around his back.

"It's okay," she whispered, moving one hand to run through his thick hair.

Another thunderclap boomed in his head, echoing loudly, and he knew Sadie's dress would have tear-stains on it. He moaned pitifully as it kept pounding, and when Sadie went to move her hand from his hair he was quick to bring it back.

"Have you ever seen a monkey playing cymbals?" he asked in a whine.

"No," Sadie laughed. "You have?"

"Yep, and now they're in my head." Harry moaned.

"Aw, babe." Sadie sighed, running her fingers through his hair again, something Harry found extremely comforting.

"I wanna go home," he mumbled, voice slightly muffled from the fabric of her dress. "I want my mom and I want to watch crap TV on her couch. I want to see my daddy and have him make me laugh again until I can't breathe. I want to cuddle under my own blanket and change clothes and maybe take a shower. I want to be sick at my own place, not my brother's. I don't want Elle to be near me when I'm sick, I want you, only you."

"Oh, so I can get sick?" Sadie laughed.

"No, I meant--"

"I know what you meant," Sadie stopped him, kissing the top of his head. "I'd want you, if I were sick."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sadie nodded. "You make me feel . . . safe, happy. Like someone wants to spend time with me and care for me, make me feel better."

"Yeah,"

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm," Harry nodded, trying to ignore the way his stomach was aching. He really, really didn't want to throw up again. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah," Sadie kissed his head again before pulling back, and Harry looked up at her, hands still on her hips. "Let's get some medicine into you first, yeah?"

"Okay," Harry mumbled, closing his eyes again. He felt Sadie's hand on his forehead, and he leant into her touch, the coolness of her skin feeling very welcoming to him despite the shivering cold he already felt.

"Babe, you're burning up." Sadie murmured.

"I figured," he whispered, clearing his throat and wincing at the pain that came with it. "'m freezing."

Sadie sighed, but Harry didn't feel as if she were angry with him so much as upset that he was sick. "Here, take this for head, and I know it's gross but you're going to have to drink Pepto."

Harry felt so bad that he didn't even make a face like he usually would, and simply threw back the pink liquid with a gulp before taking the painkillers from Sadie's hand and swallowing them with some water. He winced as he felt them hit his stomach, and Sadie noticed.

"Are you good?" she asked. "You're not going to throw up, right?"

"No," he shook his head. "Just hurts right now."

Sadie glanced up as the front door opened. "Your brother just came back in, your bike must be in the bed of my truck."

"So we can go home now?" Harry asked hopefully, looking up at her with bright eyes.

"Yeah, we can go home." she laughed. Harry liked the way that sounded coming from her mouth, 'we can go home.'

"Hey, bike's in the truck." Hayden smiled as he entered the kitchen. "Dude, I will never understand the tassle thing you've got on that handlebar."

"Good luck," Harry smiled tiredly. "'m the only one tha's ever gonna know why it's there."

"It's because it's cool, right?" Sadie guessed.

Harry looked at her like she were crazy. "No, of course not. That's too simple."

"Then why?" Sadie asked. Harry glanced towards Hayden, and a pink flush brightened his already fevered cheeks as he mumbled something incoherently. "What did you say?"

"I said . . . um . . . nothing, I said nothing."

Hayden rolled his eyes. "Should I call mom and tell her you're coming home?"

"Um . . . no, no don't call her, she'll just worry and ask how I'm getting there." Harry muttered, hiding his hands in his face. "She'll worry that I'm driving or something, no, I'll just show up."

"At her house?"

"It's my house, too, smart-ass." Harry said, his patience waning thin as his stomach began to realize that there was actually food in it. "God, my head hurts so fucking bad."

Sadie's eyebrows knit together, and she bit her lip as she started rubbing his upper back. If his stomach wasn't still on the fritz, Harry may actually have appreciated it, but at the moment it was only making him feel worse, and he shrugged her hand off.

"Dude, are you sure you should be heading home right now?" Hayden asked, looking worried. "Look at you, you're white as a sheet and--"

"Hayde, I'm fine. I'll be fine, I just . . . I need to go home." Harry's voice wavered at the end of his sentence, and he pursed his lips to keep them from quivering. He couldn't remember the last time he had missed his parents so much, and he had just seen them yesterday. But he was cold, and tired, and he wanted his own bed and his own shower and his own toilet to throw up in. He wanted his mom to watch crap TV and bury him in too many blankets and he wanted his daddy to give him a mug of hot soup and force him to take his medicine and make him laugh so hard that he couldn't breathe, hard enough that he would cry and, given his current state, probably throw up as well, but he didn't care, he just wanted to go home and be safe and comfy with his parents.

And Sadie, of course, always Sadie.

"You'll call me, yeah?" Hayden broke his brother from his thoughts. "When you get there? Let me know you're alright?"

"Yeah, I will." Harry smiled weakly. "Thank you. For . . . you know . . . taking care of me."

"Always," Hayden smiled, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "It's been a long time."

"Since I needed you?"

"I kinda of missed you needing me."

"I always needed you," Harry swallowed hard. "Ever since we were kids."

"You know, Harry," Hayden said. "You always got sad about being 'the broken one' out of us, but without you, I'd have shattered."

Sadie watched as Harry stood up and pulled his brother into a hug, not saying anything and probably relying on his brother to fully keep him on his feet, but a tight hug nonetheless, and she went to go speak with Elianna for a minute to leave them on their own.

"Hey," Elianna said quietly as she came in. "When you came in earlier, about the medicine for Harry?"

"Yeah?" Sadie asked, confused. She hadn't remembered anything specific, nothing that should have her friend worried.

"Well Hayden and I were talking about something from this morning." her friend said slowly. "While you were sleeping? Well we had the television on, and Harry was watching it, and. . ."

"And what? What's happened?" Sadie asked, growing slightly concerned.

"Well, Harry had another girlfriend, back in high school? Her name was Alisha, and she's this huge megastar now, a pop singer?" Elianna continued, and Sadie frowned, knowing where this was headed. "She wrote a song about him--I know it's about him, the look on his face when he heard, and Hayden's too."

"Did she say it was about him?"

"No, but there are rumors, and Harry's never gone public with any of his mental health history, but now that the song's out, people are talking, because everyone's seen his scar."

"Is he very upset?" Sadie asked with a sigh, realizing that she had probably just learned the reason Harry had been so insistent on texting her until she had woken up.

"I think he is, a little bit. Just . . . I know I hurt him, and I never wanted to hurt him, I couldn't help it. I didn't mean to fall in love with Hayden, it just happened. Harry didn't need me anyway, he needed someone different, someone . . . like you. And I know I'm not in a place to say this, but someone needs to take care of him, make sure he doesn't get heartbroken again. I don't want to see him hurt."

"Yeah, neither do I." Sadie said softly. "I'm not going to hurt him."

When Sadie returned to the kitchen, Harry was pulling on his brother's jacket, shivers racking his body.

"Good, you're here." He smiled weakly, trying to act like he was fine, but he looked so sick that Sadie thought she could actually hear her heart breaking. "I wanna go home."

Hayden gave them both a quick hug and turned to Harry, "Feel better, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry smiled tiredly, seemingly close to falling asleep, and Sadie wrapped an arm around his waist to lead him out of the house. As they were getting into the truck, he turned to look at her. "It stands for a heart."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"The tassle." Harry said. "It symbolizes a heart."

"How?"

"Because you know how tassles are all just fringe? It's all falling apart sort of? Well, it's all tied together at the top in a big ball, and it prevents it from breaking apart. Sometimes little pieces fall out but the entire thing remains stuck together. A person and their heart can be like that--they get damaged and a little hurt, but they never break."

"You, Harry Peterson, are a very deep thinker." Sadie laughed as she started the car. "I like that."

"Yeah? You do?"

"Yeah, I do." Sadie smiled as she pulled out of the driveway. "Now, are you going to tell me where you live, or what?"

Halfway to Harry's house, Sadie felt him stiffen, and she caught the sounds of a woman's voice coming from the radio. Oh shit, she thought, remembering what Elle had told her.

"This is me telling the world that sometimes you don't sleep with any clothes on, that you've cried yourself to sleep; when you go to bed you've got band-aids on your arms and when you wake up they're already turning into scars."

Harry sat quietly, and Sadie kept shooting him nervous glances as she drove the streets, wondering why he didn't just turn it off and if she should turn the volume down any.

"And that was Felicia Worthington with 'Scars,'" the radio announcer finally said. "Have any of you heard the rumors? Now Felicia hasn't commented on it yet but there are rumors going around that the new hit is about her ex-boyfriend, pop star Harry Peterson. Fans had seen scars on his arm for years, but never connected the possibility until Felicia came out with this song. Worthington did, however, break up with Peterson only two months ago, recently claiming they had dated in high school but hadn't been a couple since, besides the occasional hook-up. Peterson was heard on a plane from Ireland absolutely gushing over her, claiming to be her boyfriend, and it was shortly after that she publicly announced that they were not together. So tell me, what do you all think? Is Worthington's new hit single about Harry Peterson, or someone else? Now we'll listen to a new song by an up and coming singer, but you decide and let me know via social media. Now this next song is about true love--"

Harry reached forward and shut off the radio with a quiet snap. "Don't comment,"

"I wasn't going to," Sadie whispered. "I'm sorry."

"I said don't--never mind." Harry sighed. "They're right, it is about me. People make things up, you know, but . . . but I know. Certain things she said . . . I know it's about me. It's just . . . I don't have that many scars, you know? Not from hurting myself, at least. Most of the scars I have are from my birth parents, but people don't know any of that."

"You don't have to talk about it." Sadie said softly. "I'm just sorry that she had the nerve to do that to you."

"Don't be," Harry sighed again, swallowing hard. "It happens, it's show business."

"But she shouldn't have told the entire world that."

"No, she shouldn't have, but then again, I shouldn't have done it to begin, should I?"

"No, you shouldn't have." she agreed.

"I regret it, trust me. I regret . . . so much of what I did back then. But . . . I'm not that person anymore, you know? I mean yeah, I still deal with shit but . . . but I'm stronger now, I don't want to die, I don't want to hurt myself. I'm okay now, and she comes out with this song, and now people are going to be talking. . ."

His voice broke off, and Sadie glanced over to see that his eyes were closed, a stray tear making its' way down his flushed cheek as he bit his lip. "Hey, don't cry. It's okay."

"It's not really though, is it?" Harry laughed without humor. "People are going to ask me about it. They're going to talk, they're going to say shit. I didn't want that and that's partly why I never said anything. It's in the past now and it should stay there, and I didn't want the whole world to know. It was my business, between me and my family, that's it. I just--I didn't think she would do something like that."

Sadie rested her hand on his knee and felt his muscles tighten for a second before relaxing. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, I just . . . when I'm nervous I get scared when somebody touches me, it's um . . . it's habit, from my birth parents. They used to me and Hayden a lot. You kinda learn to flinch away the moment someone moves their hand."

Sadie stayed quiet for a few minutes. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know,"

"I love you,"

"I know that, too."

"And you'll be okay?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled softly, placing his hand on top of hers. "I'll be just fine. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," Sadie smiled. "I kinda like having you around."

"I kinda like being around," Harry smiled again and kissed her knuckles. "So once I'm all better, how would you like to go out with me? We could see a movie or something."

"That sounds really nice," Sadie smiled, nodding her head. "I'd really like that."

"Good," Harry breathed softly, and Sadie could actually hear his grin. After a few minutes he quietly asked, "Would you mind if I tried to sleep a little? I know it isn't very far from my house, I'm just so tired."

"No, it's fine. We're still a good twenty minutes anyways. Your body is fighting bacteria, you need to rest." Sadie shot him a quick smile.

He grinned back gratefully and leant his head against the cold window pane, leaving Sadie to wonder if his fever had gotten higher. He fell asleep relatively quickly, hunkering into his jacket and starting to shiver a little.

As he slept, Sadie remembered how Lyle complained about someone on his flight back from Ireland; it wasn't hard now to know that that person had been Harry, and it also wasn't hard for her to know why he had behaved the way he had. Well, that and he was drunk. It made her wonder if Lyle would be annoyed that she was going to be dating Harry, but at the same point she didn't really care, since Harry treated her nicely and hadn't done any harm to her, plus, he wasn't a danger to himself, or anybody else. Harry was cute, nice, funny. Who wouldn't like him?

"Mmm," Harry moaned, waking up just as Sadie turned into his neighborhood.

"Hey, you slept pretty well, we're just about there." she smiled, glancing over and seeing the sheen of sweat on his face, her smile falling as she rested a hand on his thigh. "What's wrong?"

"Feel sick," he mumbled.

"We're almost to your house," Sadie said, biting her lip as she thought.

"'m okay," he said, but his voice came out as a whimper. "Why is it so cold?"

"Your fever's gone up," Sadie told him. "It's really not cold at all."

"Hmm," Harry moaned pitifully.

"Are you going to throw up?"

"Not yet,"

"But you're feeling bad again?"

"Really bad," he nodded, his bottom lip quivering slightly.

"Hey, no, no crying, crying won't help." Sadie said quickly. "Look, your house is just up there, isn't it? And then your parents will be able to take care of you; you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Harry nodded, letting a tear slide down his cheek. "I don't feel good, Sadie, I feel really sick."

"I know,"

"I wan' 'o cuddle,"

"With?"

"Wi' you," Harry's voice was almost a wail, and he sounded so sad and sick that Sadie wanted to cry and pull over right then and there to hug him until all his pain had gone away.

"How about we cuddle when I'm not driving?" she giggled, rubbing her thumb up and down his thigh. "Will that be okay?"

Harry whimpered and leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her thin waist, and she knew for a fact that he was crying. She wrapped an arm around his body and drove one-handed, not her favorite thing but currently necessary, and took to rubbing his arm the best she could.

"Hey, we're here." she said softly as she pulled into the driveway and shut the car off. It was a nice house, small enough to be warm and cozy but big enough to be spacious for a family, the outside painted white with a nice white porch, a nice cobblestone walkway up to the white door, blue shutters, an old white porch swing.

Harry whimpered, and Sadie played with his hair for a few minutes, until he sat up and used his sleeve to wipe at his nose.

"I don' feel good," he whimpered.

"I know, Harry." Sadie said sadly, getting out of the car and going around to open his door, seeing as he was too busy trying to get warm to actually open the door himself. He got out slowly, arms folded across his chest in a futile attempt to warm himself up, and Sadie wrapped an arm around his body to lead him up to the door. He stumbled twice, but Sadie caught him and helped him up the porch steps.

She was just about to ring the doorbell when Harry mumbled, "Jus' o'en it, it won' be locked."

Sadie glanced at him, not liking the slur of his voice or the ugly shade of white on his face, how badly he was shivering or the way he had his eyes closed because he was too tired to keep them open. She turned the handle and pushed the door open, the somewhat quiet creak hopefully alerting his parents.

"Harry? Hon, is that you?" a woman's voice called out.

"Mommy," Harry whimpered, and his mother's head poked around a corner.

Sadie thought she was very pretty, and she looked rather young for her age; when Mrs. Peterson saw her son, her face turned into one of concern and she immediately hurried over, where Harry flung his arms around her.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asked, looking over at Sadie with a look of confusion. She was either asking 'what happened?' or 'who the fuck are you?' but Sadie hadn't quite decided which yet.

"'m sick, mommy." Harry moaned, starting to cry.

Mrs. Peterson rubbed his side and let him cry into her, and slowly moved to the kitchen with Harry still clinging to her.

"Hey, hey, now, what's all this?" Mr. Peterson asked, looking up from his book at the kitchen table. He had heard his son in the hallway, but had stayed in the kitchen when his wife had gone to see him, not wanting to crowd him.

Harry started to cry harder as his mother sat him down in a chair, and his father took his son's hands in an attempt to get him to focus on him.

"What's wrong, buddy?" he asked gently, ignoring the small wisps of gray hair that were falling to his eyes. "What's happened?"

"Daddy," Harry hiccuped, continuing to sob.

"He said he's sick," Mrs. Peterson frowned, turning to Sadie. "I'm sorry dear, I never got your name."

"I'm--"

"Sa'ie," Harry hiccuped, his breath hitching as he started to calm down a little. "Tha's Sa-Sadie."

"Yeah, I'm Sadie." Sadie smiled awkwardly, unsure what to do with herself.

"Well thank you, dear, for bringing him home. He's mentioned you, smiled real big, too." Mrs. Peterson smiled.

"You're welcome." Sadie blushed. "Um . . .  I can go, I can leave you guys, if that's--"

"No," Harry said quickly. "You s-s-said we c-c-could c-c-cuddle, remem-ember?"

Sadie met his eyes, watching as his body jumped with each hitched breath while he tried desperately to stop his tears. When he brought his jacket-covered hand up to sniffle and wipe his nose, her heart felt like it was cracking, and she bit her lip.

"Yeah, Harry, we can cuddle." she said, a bit embarrassed that his parents were listening, even it was just a harmless feel-better cuddle. "If that's what you want."

"I w-want y-y-you to s-s-st-st-sta-a-ay." he begged, his stutter growing worse from his crying. "P-p-pl-lease stay."

"Yeah, Harry, of course I'll stay." Sadie said softly, and when he held his arms out she walked over and let him wrap his arms around her waist. She kissed his forehead, which was hot and made her lips tingle, and felt butterflies in her tummy when he buried his face there, still slightly shaking from crying and shivering from the fever.

She could see his parents looking at each other, obviously a bit confused, not that she could blame them. There she was, a perfect stranger, dragging their emotional, sick, sobbing mess of a son into their house, talking about cuddles and kissing his skin, even if it was just on his forehead.

"Sadie," Mr. Peterson said. "Your last name is Hawkins, isn't it?"

Sadie nodded, wondering how the man knew this, but Harry was too busy trying to regulate his breathing to actually care. When she looked at the man, it was his eyes that got her.

"You need to stay," she told the man, taking his hand in hers and pressing a gentle kiss to it, careful to avoid the IV needle. "Your family needs you."

"They're going to be so disappointed," the man said hoarsely, looking older than his years. "I wasn't a good enough father for them, I didn't protect them or keep them safe. And now look where it's gotten us. One kid's dead and the other is in the hospital. God . . . what did I do wrong? How could I not have seen it?"

"Your family loves you," Sadie smiled softly, tears coursing her cheeks. "Your family needs you, and I'm sure they'd be incredibly sad if you didn't come home to them. They'll be so happy when you get home in a few days, won't they?"

"My wife will kiss me and tell me I was stupid for driving so recklessly." the man chuckled.

"And what would your sons say?" Sadie asked, smiling at the man's uplifted attitude.

"My son Hayden will jump up from watching a movie--probably Transformers--and he'll come give me a hug, tell me he's glad I'm back, maybe ask if we could go out for ice cream." the man smiled. "My other son, Harry, he'll probably be on the couch wanting to watch something different but not saying anything, because he feels bad for scaring everyone, for what he did. He's going to be devastated about that scar . . . he'll be feeling sick, I know he will, soon as he got back from the hospital, which would have been . . . a day or two ago. That's when everything will have caught up with him . . . he'd probably make himself sick with worry, guilt."

Sadie felt a lump in her throat as he spoke about his son, wondering what had happened to make the family seem so broken.

"But his mama will be there, she always is, and his twin. Inseparable, those two. One day, when they're older, they'll fall apart--siblings usually do--but I trust they'll get back together soon enough. They've been through thick and thin together . . . it was Hayden that got Harry help, you know" the man smiled sadly, not seeming to realize that he was crying. "When my wife got to the hospital, Harry was asleep, some sort of anesthetic, he was all worked up . . . my wife got there, Harry was asleep, looked so peaceful she said. Hayden saw her and broke down in tears, cried so hard he threw up, and that's never happened to Hayden before. Kept going on an on about how he couldn't lose another brother, not Harry, never Harry. How he made it through everything because of his twin, how he hadn't known things were so bad, how he should have done something more to help."

Sadie's tears were falling faster listening to the man's story, but she didn't mind. She wanted more than anything else to listen, and to hug the man because he seemed so sad and all he had wanted was a happy family, and she wanted to help him, and his wife and his children.

"But when I walk through that door," the man smiled happily now. "When I walk through that door, he'll be the first one up. He'll leap from the couch with a massive grin on his face, he'll run over so fast he trips on his feet. He'll yell 'daddy, you're home!' and he'll throw himself into me, a huge, tight hug."

Sadie smiled as the man chuckled, the loud, immensely happy kind of laugh that builds in your gut and lets everyone know you love what you're talking about.

"He used to do that every day when I came home from work," the man chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Every day without fail, from five years old to eleven. He still does it, not always now that he's a bit older, but he does. And if I'm ever on a business trip, he makes sure that he greets me when I get back, just like when he was little. He was the cutest kid you'd ever see, you know; we adopted the boys we did because my wife spotted him across the room, did I tell you that?"

"No," Sadie shook her head, still smiling. "It sounds like your family loves you very much."

"Yes," the man sighed, a smile still plastered on his tired face. "They do, don't they? That's one thing I never worried about, whether they loved me or not. I always knew."

"I think you should go back home to them," Sadie said seriously, her face matching her tone.

"Thank you, Sadie." the man said gratefully. "You're a rare kind of person these days, aren't you?"

Sadie smiled sadly. "Is that a promise that you'll go home? In one piece, safe and sound, alive and ready to greet your family?"

"That's a promise, ma'am," the man smiled. "I hope your brother comes home."

"Thank you," Sadie smiled. "Me too. And whatever's happened with your family . . . no, you'll never be the same again. But you'll make it."

"Sadie?" Harry's voice broke her from her memory and she glanced down to see that he was looking at her. "Sadie, why aren't you answering me?"

"I'm sorry, babe, I didn't hear you, what did you say?"

"I a-a-asked if you lo-loved me," he pouted. "Because I love y-you."

"Of course I love you," Sadie breathed, the smile on her face growing bigger as she bit her lip. "If I didn't, would I have taken care of you all night?"

"Yes, because you're a good person." he told her with a look of utter seriousness.

Sadie laughed and rolled her eyes. "I love you."

"M-mom, S-S-Sadie's my girlfriend," Harry stuttered, swallowing hard as he looked towards his mom. "She f-found me at H-Hayden's."

Sadie smiled and shook both his parents' hands, and kept glancing back towards his father. It was obvious he remembered her, knew who she was. Harry's mother was very polite, asking her about college and America. Nobody noticed Harry's skin growing paler or the way he kept swallowing, gently placing a hand over his stomach.

"Did your brother come back?" the man asked suddenly.

"Yes," Sadie smiled, ignoring the tugging on her dress. "He did. He's getting married soon, having a baby."

"Good," the man smiled. "I'm glad."

Before Sadie could say anything else, she was interrupted by Harry throwing up on the floor. He whimpered and vomited again, leaving Sadie feeling bad for making him eat in the first place.

"'m sorry," he croaked, a fresh wave of tears flooding his eyes. "I c-couldn't--"

Harry gagged again, and his mother quickly grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him down the hall.

"I'm glad you got home to your family," Sadie said softly after a minute of quiet, only interrupted by Mr. Peterson beginning to clean the floor.

The aging man glanced up at with a smile, his eyes twinkling. "So am I, Sadie."

Sadie offered to help him clean, but he dismissed her with a smile and a wave towards one of the chairs, where she sat down and studied the book he was reading.

"I just wanted to thank you, Sadie." the man said, sitting down when he had finished cleaning.

"For what?" Sadie asked.

"For helping me," Mr. Peterson said seriously, reaching across the table to place a hand over hers. Sadie couldn't help but notice the way his hands shook, softly and almost invisibly, but she felt it. "And thank you, too, for helping Harry now. You may not have known what he was like a few months ago. Utterly miserable unless he was up on a stage, because that's where we felt wanted, and with us. His brother's wedding really upset him. I don't think it does anymore."

Sadie smiled softly, glancing down, slightly embarrassed as she realized he was talking about Harry's feelings for her. "I really like him."

"If he's let you see him this vulnerable, then he more than likes you."

Sadie didn't respond as they heard Harry throw up again and start crying, talking to his mom in somewhat muffled, slurred sobs.

"Mommy--don't--upset 'er--not like--'m so sick--I can't breathe mama--no I wan' daddy." they heard. "Mama, I wan' daddy, I wan' daddy."

Mr. Peterson looked a bit surprised, but stood up, offered Sadie an apologetic shrug, and went into the hall. Sadie stayed where she was for a few minutes, not wanting to intrude, and Mrs. Peterson came in with teary eyes.

"Is he okay?" Sadie asked nervously as the lady washed her hands.

"He'll be alright," Mrs. Peterson said, sighing as she ran a hand through her hair. "He's obviously caught a bug of some sort. Poor thing's having a panic attack right now, on top of that."

"Oh," Sadie said slowly. "What about? Can I help?"

"I'm not sure, dear." Mrs. Peterson said, drying her hands on a dishtowel that had a pattern so old that Sadie was sure it was from the eighties. "He couldn't really get what it was across, kept thinking he was going to be sick again, and he was crying so hard everything was a bit jumbled."

"Can I see him?" Sadie asked nervously, wondering if the woman might have a problem with it.

Instead the woman smiled and nodded, and Sadie gave her a polite smile and went down the hallway until she saw the bathroom. When she peeked in, Harry was sniffling into his father's shirt, breathing easier and his tears slowed down to a near stop.

"Harry?" she asked quietly. "Are you alright?"

Harry sniffled and looked over at her. "'m okay,"

"You don't sound okay,"

Harry cracked a small smile. "'m jus' shaken up, is all. I'll be alright."

"Are you sure?" Sadie asked, having spotted an inhaler clutched his hand and knowing that this was why he was breathing so easily.

"Yeah, Muffin, 'm sure." he mumbled, turning back into his father. "'m real' tired."

"How about we get you to bed, kiddo?" his father asked gently. "This floor can't be comfortable."

Harry giggled a little, and Sadie thought it was the absolute cutest thing ever.

"No," he shook his head. "I wanna shower first, 'm gross."

"Okay," his father said. "Will you be alright on your own?"

Harry nodded. "Thank you, daddy."

Mr. Peterson surprised Sadie then by kissing the top of Harry's head. She had always thought that Harry's father would be a good parent to them, but most parents didn't show the affection they had when their children were young.

Harry sat himself up so his father could stand, then accepted the outstretched hand to help him to his feet. Sadie stood awkwardly, not sure what to do, and Harry noticed.

"Sades, can you . . . um . . . can you stay a minute?"

Sadie's cheeks flushed, but she nodded as his father left.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"For what?" Sadie asked, confused.

"For . . . for making you see all that. For making you bring me home. For upsetting you."

"You didn't make me see anything, and you didn't make me bring you home."  Sadie shook her head. "And what you mean you upset me?"

"You weren't answering me, you were zoned out. You were thinking," Harry explained, looking down at the ground where he was scuffing up the toe of his shoe, biting his bottom lip and stealing a glance up at her. "I upset you, bringing you here. I was talking about how nice you were and how much I loved you. You didn't like that."

"No, no, that's not it." Sadie said quickly. "Really, it isn't. You didn't upset me."

"I didn't?" Harry asked, screwing up his face in confusion.

"No, not at all."

"Then why were you being so funny?"

"Because I . . . I recognized your dad."

"My dad?" Harry asked, utterly confused. "What about my dad? How could you know my dad?"

"Do you remember me telling you about how my dad died? And how I spoke to the other man in the crash?"

"Yeah, but what--oh. Oh!" Harry's eyes widened as he realized what she saying. "You mean my dad--he--what?"

"Yeah, it was your dad, Harry." Sadie said. "I didn't expect to ever see him again, and sometimes I wondered if he got back home, well, I guess now I know."

Harry didn't say anything, remembering the things she had told him about that day.

"Are you okay?" Sadie asked gently.

"I didn't know some of that stuff." his voice shook a little, and his eyes grew wet. "I'm glad you told me though."

"Yeah," Sadie's voice was tight, trying not to cry. "I'm glad he came home."

"So am I," Harry whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek.

A few minutes passed, Sadie laughing as he made a mess brushing his teeth, then standing awkwardly while he decided to silently clean the mouth of his inhaler and put it away in a drawer before shuffling through the medicine cabinet for Tylenol.

"Wait a minute," Harry said, turning to face her. "You're saying my father saw your scars before I did?"

Sadie's cheeks flushed, having forgotten telling him that she had scars. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You said . . . you said you had visible scars." he said slowly.

"Okay, well, there's one on my back. My boyfriend hurt me when I was fifteen."

"You said there's one there. Something about that makes me think there's more."

"There is," Sadie said.

"Can you tell me?" Harry asked. "You don't have to."

"No, no I'll tell you." Sadie said, looking anywhere but at him. "A week or two after my boyfriend hurt me the way he did . . . I found out I was pregnant."

Harry's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to soften a little, and he hesitantly stepped closer, reaching a shaky hand to rest on her arm.

"Like I said, I was only fifteen." Sadie continued. "I wasn't ready to have a baby, and he wasn't a good guy, so I didn't think it was safe, for me or the baby. So . . . so I had an abortion."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I didn't . . . you didn't have to tell me, I know you didn't--"

"No, I wanted to tell you." Sadie said quietly. "I still wonder sometimes, what the baby would have been like."

"Yeah,"

"Hard stuff, dealing with that. I didn't think about anything but the fact that . . . he wouldn't be a good father. He'd hurt me multiple times, and after I got that scar, I knew he wouldn't stop, and I knew . . . somehow I knew that if I told him about the baby, he'd go ballistic. He didn't want a baby, and eventually he'd probably have hurt the baby as well as me."

Sadie hadn't realized she was crying until Harry's thumb brushed a tear off her cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he shook his head. "Don't ever be sorry for feeling."

"I really want to kiss you right now." Sadie laughed, finally meeting his eyes.

"Yeah, so do I." he murmured. "I really hate that I can't."

"Why not?"

"Maybe you haven't noticed but I am sick as a dog."

"Yeah but you've kissed me already, and you were sick then, too."

"Ah, this is true." he said. "But I still don't want to get you sick."

"Do I have to kiss you first, then?" Sadie teased, biting her lip.

"Muffin, you can kiss me any time that you want." he said softly, and Sadie liked the smell of mint on his breath.

"So I could just do this," Sadie whispered, pecking his lips very quickly. "And you wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all,"

"What about . . . this?" Sadie asked, kissing him just a bit stronger, biting his lower lip just the tiniest bit.

"I don't mind at all," Harry said, biting his lip in an attempt to keep himself together.

"And if I did this?" Sadie trailed, kissing him the smallest bit more passionately.

Harry snaked his tongue into her mouth, tasting cinnamon, and slid his hand to the small of her back, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He hesitated, and just to tease him she kissed him again; when Sadie pulled back she smirked a little before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, noticing the pinkish tinge to his cheeks.

"You're a really good kisser," he whispered, swallowing hard.

"Turned you on?"

"Extremely," he squeaked, clearing his throat.

Sadie tried not to laugh, knowing the reason he'd even hesitated before was because he had gotten hard for her, and she was trying so hard not to make a comment about it.

"I feel like I should be apologizing," he mumbled. "You look embarrassed."

"Nope, not at all." Sadie smirked, thinking it was cute the way he was so nervous and even a bit embarrassed. "Maybe that's what I wanted to achieve."

Harry's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"Maybe," Sadie shrugged. "Maybe not."

"You're so mean," he whined. "I want to--but we haven't even gone out, and so I can't, because that wouldn't be right, and--"

"Another time," Sadie smirked. "Somehow I get the feeling that you'd be good in bed."

Harry's cheeks were positively flaming now, and though Sadie felt a little bad about it she also felt very happy, because she was having a lot of fun with all this teasing--and hey, it wasn't too bad for the ego either.

"Um . . . I'm gonna shower now." Harry said nervously, swallowing hard.

"Right," Sadie giggled. "You do that. Do you want me to stick around or should I go home now?"

"Um," Harry cleared his throat again.

"Nervous?"

"Not quite," he shook his head. "Embarrassed, more like. And just a little bit in pain."

"Yeah, well, I'd imagine you would be. It's big."

Harry's eyes widened, still staring at the floor, and his cheeks somehow got even redder, making his ears light up like a Christmas tree.

"My last boyfriend had a really small one," Sadie continued, somewhat enjoying herself. "But you don't."

Harry didn't say anything, looking absolutely mortified.

"I'm sorry," Sadie laughed. "That was pretty funny though. I didn't know you liked me that much."

Harry cleared his throat again. "I'm going to shower now."

"Yeah, you do that . . . take care of that . . . right . . . I'll go home now." Sadie giggled, walking backwards to leave the bathroom.

"No, you can stay . . . um . . . no, you shouldn't, because I'm going to be seriously embarrassed for the rest of the night." he mumbled, shuffling forward and starting to close the door. "You just . . . you . . . um . . . yeah."

"I can stay if you like," Sadie giggled.

"If you say you're staying, I--" Harry cut himself off and shut the door. "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Sadie said, practically suffocating from holding her laughter back. "I love you."

"Yeah, uh, love you, too." he called through the door, and she heard his muffled voice saying, "Fuck!"

She quickly walked down the hall and poked her head into the kitchen, saying a quick goodbye and nice to meet you to his parents. The second she stepped outside the front door she lost it, and she was almost positive that Harry would be able to hear her laughter all the way from the bathroom.