Chapter Text
Zayn has always felt (and perhaps his parents were to blame, all things considered) that he was the worst. No other child in the history of the world had done things worse than he had- from his youngest memory; his parents were disappointed in him, for everything- so when he got old enough to think to rebel, it’s no big thought process, no need to run with the wrong group at the wrong time- the drinking and the smoking and the tattoos comes to him as easily as anything. For a while, it’s just worried and despairing looks, shakes of head and hushed conversations down in the kitchen, stopping as soon as Zayn walks in. However, when his father sees his tattoos, permanent marks that could say I hate my parents for all his father reads into them, it seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Zayn expects to be thrown out, told to never come back, something dramatic like that, and when his father sends him to his room, he actually begins to pack, taking all the things he’ll need, his smokes and a bottle of vodka and his sketch pad and pencils, throwing in some clothes and his toothbrush for good measure. His mum comes up to his room about an hour later, takes in the packed backpack on his bed and nods.
“I’m glad you’re packed, although most of that will be taken off you.” The alarm bells should’ve started ringing at that point, but Zayn’s too preoccupied in surveying the room, seeing if there’s anything else he’ll need.“Your father will drive you there tonight, and I’ll come visit you next week.”
Zayn looks up at that, turning away from his comic books. “Drive me where?” Zayn says.
“Rivergrove. You know, we’ve driven past it a hundred times, surely.” His mother smiles sadly, but Zayn cuts over her to say, “Yeah, but I’ve never been a patient there! Isn’t it for mental people? I’m not mental!”
“We know darling, but they offer a program for teens that are having some troubles in their lives, so we’ve booked you into that one.” She plays with a thread on his bedspread, and he goes and sits down next to her.
“You guys don’t hate me, do you?” He says, feeling disappointed, for the first time, in himself.
“Of course not, love. I know your father and I’ve been a bit hard on you, and perhaps this is our fault. But we want you to get better. We want you to have a chance at a future. You can understand that, can’t you?” She says, and pats his knee. “When you’re better, you can come home. I promise.” Zayn knows that’s probably not true unless they offer tattoo removal, but he doesn’t say anything. They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, before she stands and says “Bring your things down. I think your father wants to get you there tonight.” Zayn stands as well and envelopes his mother in a hug, breathing in the lemon scent she wears.
“You’ll be fine before you know it, sweetheart.” She says, and disappears downstairs. Zayn collects his things and makes his way downstairs, where his father is waiting, key in hand. “Come, Zayn.”
Rivergrove is about thirty minutes from the Malik house, and Zayn and his father don’t speak on the way over, Zayn listening to music. When they get there, it feels more real- not just an empty threat to try and make him better. Zayn gets out, grabbing his backpack from the backseat. His father gets out of the car, joining him in looking up at the large building.
“I’ll say goodbye here Zayn. I hope you’ll take this chance, to get back on the right track.” Zayn is briefly surprised by his father’s hopeful tone, and almost takes back the negative thoughts he’d had on the way over, when his father continues.
“God knows many others would not as be as privileged. Remember that.” Zayn says “Thanks, dad. ’Bye, dad.” And walks up the steps, not looking back.
In the foyer, a lovely woman by the name of Cheryl greets him, and he introduces himself.
“Ah, Zayn.” She says. “I’ll take you to your room, and then you can get to know our other guests over dinner.” Zayn quirks at eyebrow at the word choice, and says, “You mean, the patients?”
“We prefer ‘guests’. We think it gives a more welcoming feel.” Zayn’s about to ask who she means by ‘we’ when she spots his backpack. “We’ll have to make a stop off before we get to your room, I think, so we can just check you haven’t got anything bad in there, okay?” They change direction, and she takes him to a kindly, silver-haired man in scrubs, who introduces himself as “Dr Louis”.
“We’ll just take a look in there, shall we?” Louis takes the backpack from Zayn, and promptly takes out the alcohol, the cigarettes and the clothes. “You’ll get everything back once you’re ready to leave, but I doubt you’ll want to see these again, hey?” Louis taps the vodka and the cigarettes, and places the clothes neatly on top. “Here at the Centre, we like our guests to feel comfortable about their attire, so we have a- a uniform, of sorts. We’ll get you into something more comfortable, shall we?” Louis passes him a white t-shirt and blue pyjama like pants, and then directs him to a curtained off area, where Zayn assumes he should change. He slips off his old clothes and slips into the shirt and pants, noticing that the pyjama pants are elasticised, and have no chord, which doesn’t make a lot of sense until he remembers where he is, and smiles wryly. When he has his new outfit on, he sees that his tattoos are now clearly visible, where they’d been hidden under his hoodie before. Louis also notices them when he walks back out, and he frowns. “They’re not drawn on, are they?” He says hopefully, and Zayn shakes his head.
“Hmm…” He pauses, and then seems to think it won’t be much of an issue. “You can take him to his room, now, Cheryl. We’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Zayn! I think I’ll put him in with the red group, Cheryl.” She nods, and motions to Zayn. Before he leaves, Louis hands back his sketchpad, which seems to have passed the test. “You’re a good drawer, Zayn.” He says, and waves them goodbye.
His room is bland, light blue walls and a white bedspread with a white towel rolled up on the single bed pushed into one corner of the room, next to the door. In the other corner, under a window, the set up is mirrored, though this bed isn’t made. There are two closets in the room, and in his closet are more towels and sets of the white t-shirt and pyjama combo, all cordless, and Cheryl points out the laundry basket. “Your bathroom is down the hall, and you’ll share with four of our other guests. Do you have any questions? We’re all happy to help.” He surveys the room, and shakes his head.
“I’ll take you down to dinner now, and introduce you to your bathroom mates, one of whom will be sharing this room with you.” She leads him out of the room, going through a very complex set of directions that he tries to listen and understand, but loses it after a while, and just looks around the place. It’s magnificent, high ceilings and exquisite works of art scattered around the place. Eventually they reach a large set of doors, which open up onto what looks like it had been a large hall once upon a time- now, it has sets of tables and chairs scattered around with people in the same clothes at Zayn sitting and eating. Cheryl leads him over to the food hatch, where a woman whose nametag says “Zoe” makes him a plate of sausages, mashed potato and peas. He accepts it with a smile, and Cheryl again leads him, over to a table with four boys sitting at it.
“Boys,” Cheryl announces and they swivel their heads around to meet her eyes. There’s a boy with brown hair who smiles at Cheryl, a blond boy who gives her a lewd wink, and two boys who are wrapped around each other, one with straight, light brown hair and one with dark curly hair. “This is Zayn. He’ll be in your group from now on, and he’ll be sharing a room with you, Niall. Please make him feel welcome.” She smiles at Zayn and sweeps off, possibly to completely disorientate other new patients- guests, Zayn corrects himself in his head. The boy with curly hair is staring at Zayn, and he attempts a smile, which is not returned. They go around the table, and the boys introduce themselves- the boy with light brown hair’s name is Liam, the boy with blond hair is Niall, and Zayn looks over his new roommate, before turning to the two boys left.
“I’m Louis,” the boy with light brown hair says, “And this is Harry. We’re in love and when we get out of here we’re going to live together and be happy forever and ever.” Zayn’s a little taken aback, and the boy with curls who Zayn now knows is Harry doesn’t speak, or even smile, only nods and continues to stare at Zayn. He reiterates that his name is Zayn, and they all say “Hi Zayn,” in a creepy, coordinated manner.
The five boys sit in silence for a few minutes, Zayn beginning to eat slowly. He’s just got a mouthful of mashed potatoes and peas when Louis says “What’s wrong with you then?”
Zayn sputters a little on his food, and Liam immediately looks horrified and berates Louis briefly, reminding him of manners. Niall on the other hand just laughs, and Harry continues to stare at him.
“I’m sorry Zayn. If you feel comfortable, would you like to share the reason you have decided to be a guest here at River Grove?” Louis says, his voice turning stiff and proper, and Liam nods but Niall just laughs more.
“Am I allowed to share? That won’t be-” Zayn tries to remember the word he read on one of the posters in Dr Louis’ room. “Triggering?” Liam shakes his head, and says “Savan says it’s good for us to talk about our problems with others so we can get better together.”
“Um-” Zayn is briefly thrown off by the serious, as opposed to mocking way Liam says the words that seem to be brainwashed into them. “Ok? My parents sent me here because I drink and I smoke and I get tattoos and I don’t ask permission? I think the term is ‘off the rails’ although it’s better than other tracks I’ve been on.” Zayn finishes, and then looks around awkwardly. “Do you tell me about your problems now then?” He says and Liam nods.
“I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and I used to have a roommate but he never made his bed so I got into a fight with him and now I don’t have a roommate.” The way that Liam says everything nonchalantly will take a little getting used to, but it makes sense- while the other boys plates are left in various states of disarray, Liam’s is scraped clean and the knife and fork are placed neatly in the centre. Liam sees him looking and adds, “If I’m clean and tidy for eighty days then my parents will come back and I’ll get to go home. I was clean for sixty seven but then Louis spilt my toothpaste and I had to start again.” Zayn nods, and hopes that Liam’s parent’s promises are different to his own parent’s because he knows they’re not coming to see him for a while.
Niall clears his throat and Zayn turns to him.
“The doctors say I have anorexia and bulimia, which means I don’t eat and if I do I just throw it back up again.” Niall’s a little more subdued now, but still smiling, and Zayn’s starting to get a little freaked out by how ok everyone is with their problems at this place. “But I’m getting better because tonight I ate three forkfuls of mashed potato and three forkfuls of peas and I don’t want to throw it up.” Liam congratulates him, and Zayn hesitantly does too, because Niall looks so proud of himself. Louis cuts in in the middle of Zayn’s congratulations and says “I’m Louis and I have schizophrenia but I don’t hear voices which is why the doctors say I talk so much because I have to fill the silence and sometimes I say the wrong things at the wrong times and upset people but Liam is helping me be conscious of it.”
At this point, Liam says “Breathe, Louis,” and Louis sucks in a breath before saying “If I upset you sometimes by remarking upon what you’re here for or something you’re not comfortable with I apologise. And also if I call you the wrong name it’s not my fault and I wish people would go along with it because it’s fun to play pretend!” Zayn nods at this, and thinks in a twisted way that maybe some people aren’t in control as much as Liam or Niall, which makes him feel a little better.
Zayn turns to Harry, who is still staring at him, and tentatively says, “Harry?” Harry tears his eyes away from Zayn to look at Louis, who seems to understand and says “Harry doesn’t like talking sometimes which is ok because I love talking. Harry is here supposedly because he wants to kill himself and Liam says he tried to a lot of times but I think that it’s because he’s my soul mate and he’s just pretending so that we can spend time here before I get better or can convince people that I’m better.” Louis says with a grin and Harry slowly nods, and returns to looking at Zayn.
Louis adds, “Also, he’d like to look at your tattoos please, that’s why he’s staring. Harry I told you it’s rude to stare, remember we were on the train and you were staring at that woman with the fake leg and you accidently threw it in the fire because you thought it was a log?” Zayn’s really confused now, and looks to Liam for help, who says “Louis’ favourite TV show is Friends, and he’s seen almost every episode of it-” Louis cuts in with “I have seen every episode Liam, don’t lie to Zayn.”
So Liam amends and says “Louis’ seen every episode and sometimes he forgets that’s not his life and talks about it as if it is.” Zayn’s head is swimming now, and Niall says, “I think Zayn’s about to faint, shall we head up to bed?” Louis looks scandalised, and says “But tonight we’re going to do karaoke! And Harry’s going to sing but his shirt will go see-through in the light and everyone will see his four nipples!” Louis begins to fuss over Harry at this point, fixing his hair and his shirt, and Liam apparently sees this as an escape, so he, Zayn and Niall get up and leave.