Chapter Text
It started with a few nasty comments in the cafeteria and locker rooms. The locker rooms were the worst- you’d be so vulnerable, open to abuse and torment because you’re literally exposed more than any other time. Even though technically that shouldn’t matter, it made everything sting a little bit more. One thing that people usually respected was privacy when you were changing, and for people to need to be cruel so much that they would break that unspoken rule…it was a little painful.
The backhanded questions made him cringe, but when people got a little more forward, a little less subtle, it was then that it made him flinch, feeling hated. Some of the things people would call him didn’t even make sense. A few people would yell at him, screaming about God’s special punishment for gay people. A few misguided people would inform him that he had a disease, that he needed to seek help. Those people scared him- they genuinely believed in what they said, they even thought it was polite to say these things to him.
Most of the people abusing him were once friends. A handful had even been close friends, people he trusted and expected to stand up for him. And now they were the ones he needed protection from. His dearest friends were oblivious. They knew that he was gay; he’d told them as soon as the rumors started spreading. But they hadn’t yet noticed the abuse he was receiving from everyone but them.
He wasn’t entirely sure where the general knowledge had come from- it went from a huge secret, one that nobody knew, to something everyone in the school knew. His parents didn’t even know yet- luckily no parents of the bullies had decided to inform them.
Every day had become a complex battle- first he had to put on a happy face for his family, get dressed in some way that wouldn’t provoke the abusers any more, then he would go to school, sit alone on the bus, get yelled at and jabbed with sharp fingers on his way to classes…sit alone at lunch, since his friends weren’t in the same lunch wave, act happy during the class he had with his friends (that luckily didn’t have any of the bullies in it) and then endure a few more hours of abuse before returning home and putting on another happy face.
It was all going perfectly- he’d keep up the happy charade for his friends and family. It worked well- a big smile went a long way. His parents were still unaware of his sexuality, and his friends had no clue about the bullying.
Harry woke up on April thirtieth without any thoughts out of the ordinary. He woke up, rolled out of bed and threw on a button-up plaid shirt and jeans, making his way to school silently.
It was in the hallway, on the way to his first class, that the day turned so much worse than usual. He was walking along, silently strolling with his bag on his back, clutching his I-pod and hoping that nobody would bother him. People whispered upon his passing like normal- he barely even noticed anymore.
He rounded the corner into the science wing like he did every day, his head ducked slightly so he could avoid the prying gazes of those around him. He didn’t expect to run into someone. He apologized quietly, shifting out of the way and was about to keep walking when somebody punched him in the stomach. The feeling of having your breath knocked away was overpowering, and he sunk to his knees, unable to remain standing.
He thought that maybe, just maybe, that would be it, that they would leave him on the ground. But then somebody shoved him onto his side and his I-pod flew out of his hands. Someone ripped his bag off, throwing it down the hallway, letting its contents spin out across the linoleum.
And the kicking started. He could really tell how many people were doing it, but when he glanced up, he saw a crowd of blurry faces that darkened out the fluorescent lights. His glance was rewarded with a violent kick to his face that, accompanied with a skimming blow to his windpipe, resulted with him losing consciousness.
Harry was almost glad that he fell unconscious- while it did open him up to more kicking, since he couldn’t curl into a ball, he couldn’t feel anything anymore. Until he woke up.
He woke up to the familiar bright lights of the school, immediately knowing that he wasn’t in a hospital, as they didn’t have quite as atrocious lighting.
Harry could tell his eyes were swollen, as he couldn’t quite open them. His entire body burned, as though they’d lit him on fire and not kicked. His face hurt the worst, a bright pain in his cheek. His chest hurt, too, a dull ache in his side.
He could hear a loud conversation around him- they sounded like they were trying to be quiet, but their whispers were slowly escalating into yells. It was unmistakably the nurse, arguing with Louis about…something.
He couldn’t quite focus enough on their conversation, could only recognize their voices. Niall shouted something, only to be shushed by Liam.
Harry finally managed to get his eyes open, which was received with a flurry of action. Suddenly there were five faces peering down at him, all looking terribly concerned.
“Are you okay?” Zayn asked, eyes wide.
Harry nodded, trying to sit up. The nurse pushed him back down gently, shaking her head.
“Don’t sit up. You may have suffered head trauma.”
“What happened after I passed out?” Harry asked, pressing a hand against his cheek, wincing at the sting.
“Don’t touch,” the nurse said, handing him an ice pack. “Hold this against it.”
“What happened?” Harry repeated.
“We were walking around and then we heard a lot of yelling…and then we found a big group of people, and you were lying in the middle, so we called the principal over and he broke it up,” Liam said. “And then we brought you here.”
“How bad is it?” Harry asked.
They all avoided his eyes and looked instead towards the ceiling. Harry sighed and got up; waving away the nurse’s fluttering.
He walked slowly over to a small mirror, wincing at the pain in his legs. His right ankle felt dreadful, like it was sprained or something. His entire face was red, with large scratches decorating his forehead. His eyes were swollen almost completely shut, and large bumps were all over. His sore cheek was split slightly, bulging and scarlet.
Harry stepped back and sat down on the small bed again, pulling up his jeans to see his legs. His ankle was puffy, and large bruises were blossoming up and down his calves.
Louis reached over and pulled the hem back down, covering the injuries. Harry looked up at him, seeing how his lip was quivering slightly.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly.
Zayn barked a harsh laugh. “I’m going to kill those people.”
“Hopefully they’ll get expelled,” Liam said. “There are rules against this.”
“They can’t expel ten people at once,” Niall said. “They’ll probably just get suspended.”
Harry fingered his split lip subconsciously, not noticing the pain he was causing himself.
“Stop,” Louis said, pulling his hand back down. “You’ll make it worse.”
“I don’t have to go to the hospital, do I?” Harry asked.
“I think you may have a broken rib, concussion, and slightly broken ankle… just a small fissure,” the nurse said. “There’s an ambulance on the way.”
“An ambulance?” Harry sighed. “That will surely help the situation.”
“We just want to make sure you’re alright,” Zayn said. “You looked dead when we found you.”
Harry shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“You look like you’ve been put through a washing machine,” Louis said. “You’re not fine.”
“Why did they do this, anyway?” Niall asked, frowning.
Harry laughed. “They all think I deserve to die for being gay.”
“You’re joking. They nearly killed you because of your sexuality?” Liam asked. “Why haven’t there been issues before now? Why did they go from not caring to a mob?”
“They have been bothered. People have been threatening me and calling me names since they found out,” Harry said.
“Why didn’t you say something?” the nurse gasped. “Those children should be expelled!”
“The teachers wouldn’t believe me. I’m not a perfect student or anything.”
“We have a zero-tolerance program for bullies,” the nurse said. “They are obligated to do something.”
Zayn scoffed. “They see bullying every day, they just ignore it.”
The nurse pursed her lips and shook her head. “That’s awful.”
“Well, maybe they’ll tighten their watch after this.”
“Probably not. They don’t care about gay hate crimes,” Liam said bitterly. “They’re pricks.”
The nurse sighed and walked over to her desk, fiddling around with a few things while they waited for the ambulance.
After a long, uneasy silence, the phone finally rang and delivered the news that the ambulance had arrived. Zayn and Louis held Harry’s arms and helped him limp down to the front of the school. Harry refused the stretcher the EMT’s wheeled out, and he rode to the hospital sitting in the back.
The other guys had begged the nurse to let them go with him, and she finally relented, saying she would write in that they’d gone home sick.
Harry had never had to go the nurse before, but she seemed lovely during this strange exchange.
The ride to the hospital was incredibly long, and the doctors started fussing the second he got in.
Harry went home with the diagnosis of a broken rib, a badly sprained ankle, a very slight concussion, and had three stitches on his cheek.
His parents freaked out, obviously. They demanded to know why he was beaten up- his mother was terrified that he’d joined a gang or started doing drugs. He didn’t tell them. He said that he’d bumped into the wrong person and they’d overreacted about it.
That was true. It just left out a few details.