[more of an extra chapter]

Long way down if you fall,
And it's a long was back if you get lost.

home

His teeth were aching, growing probably, but they hurt him so much and he didn't know how to cope with the feeling, being kept in the dark for a while now.

He had his hands over his (widely agape) mouth, his incisors stabbing his bottom lip and making him taste his own blood. It was metallic and thick and unhealthy and he deserved it, "don't forget that you deserve it," the older man spat at him.

His teeth were hurting him so much that he sat with his knees his chest, too small to think of saving himself. He kept his eyes closed, afraid of the dark though he'd never admit it aloud.

Two, he thought to himself. They said he'd come out in two- but what?- days? eternities (because that's what it felt like to him)?, hours?, minutes? They must have thrown him inside about three days ago, and he was so weak, so, so weak.

His hands felt numb, back heavy, legs aching and he deserved it.

He felt something in his chest lurch forward as something moved above him, and that was when he lifted his head, hands shielding his eyes from the bright light that made them strain. "I knew it," someone hissed.

He shakily stood to his feet only to fall back down onto his knees.

"Don't move," a girl ordered. Niall thought he nodded, pushing his hands into the dirt and coughing, blood frothing past his lips and onto the gravel and where was he? Blood kept dispensing from his mouth and his eyes were wild as the girl hooked an arm under his arms to pull him along with her.

He fell into the gravel and coughed again, looking up at her with dark, weak eyes that made him feel too vulnerable. She was one of them, he thought. He knew it; they all moved gently and it was something he tried to perfect after all those years. And she was beautiful. "Min me skotóseis, enó eimai sta gónatá mou. Periménete gia ména na párei sta podia mou," he said quietly. He barely heard it himself but he had no doubt she heard him.

"I did not come here to kill you," she stepped back, small necklace clasped around her neck.

Niall glanced up and shook his head. "You're all trying to kill me."

"Stand up," she said quietly. He nodded and struggled to his feet, shaking her hand away when she tried to help. The backyard of his childhood home. He could see his old treehouse from where he stood, the police tape on the glass door that lead to his kitchen. "Are you hurt?"

"I don't need your help. Gaminéno psycho."

"He has taught you Greek," she said, pressing her hands into her pocket.

Niall pointed at them and shook his head. "If you're trying to kill me when I least expect it, I think you should know that I will always be expecting."

Her head tilted, taking out a small ring that looked like it'd aged. "We are not as cowardice as your kind is," she cleared her throat, turning the ring in her hand and looking at it before lifting to look at him, glowing green eyes reaching his sick blue ones. "An old man died when I was ten years old and I really liked his ring. It was written in Hebrew, said something about love. My brother asked him if the person he loved could keep it, and the man said yes."

"I'm dying," Niall mumbled.

"He gave it to me two days later and I kept it with me till this day."

Niall fell to the ground again and the girl walked to him, her dark hair curling around her sharp jaw. The winged necklace around her neck made him smile a little. "He charmed it for protection."

The girl kneeled forward holding out the ring with a sad frown of longing. He could see him in her eyes and her hand. Niall could feel the pull toward her. "You look like him," he choked out weakly.

"I don't need it as much as you do. I want you to tell him that I'm not giving it away because I hate him. Tell him it's because I love him and care for him," she smiled a little. "He's always been one of wisdom and if he loves you enough to give up his own wings, I think I should do what I can to keep you both happy."

"He talks a lot about you," Niall whispered, taking the ring from her hand. "Never bad things. He didn't believe for a moment you ever hated him."

"He's always been insecure. That's why he liked it down here; made him feel fearless."

"I'll tell him," Niall nodded.

"He's down by the cemetery waiting for you."

"What?"

"That's where they told him you were. He's been there for two days looking."

There was a rush of wind that made Niall feel empty inside. "He loves you Gemma Ara Styles," Niall said, hearing the hurt in her voice as she spoke about how much her brother loved him. He looked up at her only to see she was already gone.

He kept the ring in his hand as he shakily stood to his feet and began to find Harry.