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Okay so maybe Harry’s mom has told him ever since he got his license not to pick up hitchhikers and maybe he’d promised her, reassured her, of course, Mom, I would never, you don’t have to worry about me, and maybe, just maybe that’s exactly what he’s doing right now.
But he doesn’t think this is what she was talking about. This kid can’t be much older than Harry himself and he’s got no visible weapons on him and he has floppy blonde hair that reminds him of the puppy that his sister almost talked their mom into adopting that one time. He’s been talking ever since he opened the door and Harry hasn’t been listening because he was busy looking for weapons and he’s not really sure what he’s missed. Probably a name, maybe a destination. Nothing too important.
“So uh,” Harry interrupts, turning the radio down a little bit. “where was it you said you were going?”
“Not really sure. Wherever you’re going, I guess. Don’t really know where I’m at to be honest. I’ve been walking for a while and I left my last, uh, residence in a hurry.”
“Oh yeah that makes sense.” That makes absolutely no sense to Harry he’s never left anywhere at more than an ambling pace. “So you’re just going where the wind bl-“ his voice cracks and he clears his throat, “blows you then?”
“Uh, yeah.” The kid looks like he’s trying not to laugh at Harry.
Real cool, Styles, get your fucking act together. “What’s your name again? I missed it.”
“It’s Niall.”
“Niall.” Harry nods to set it in place. Says under his breath, “Niall, Niall, Nice-all, Vial, Kyle, Niall, Niall.”
“Huh?” Niall looks up from an old flip phone he pulled out of somewhere (Harry hadn’t seen any hint of something in his pockets; his weapons checking really needs some work), “you say something?”
“I said, ‘I’m Harry.’” There’s silence for a bit. “That’s a nice phone.” It’s not.
“Eh. It’s a burner.”
“I see.” He doesn’t. “Sounds cool.”
“More hot, wouldn’t you say?”
A laugh is surprised out of Harry and he swerves into oncoming traffic for a terrifying second before righting himself and the car.
“Whoa! Watch it dude. Can’t afford to get pulled over right now if you know what I mean.”
“Oh yeah definitely.” Not at all. Parking tickets? He nods like he understands, though. “So, Niall, what is it you do for a living?” Jesus, is he sixty?
“Nothing right now. Just got free didn’t I? Don’t really wanna tie myself to a career quite yet. Maybe in a year when things calm down a bit.”
“Sure.” A pause. “I work in the deli at a grocery store.”
“What’s that like?”
“It’s all right. I mostly just cut up flesh all day.”
“Flesh.”
“Yeah, like lunch meat you know?”
“No, I know what a deli is, I haven’t been out of society that long. I’ve just never heard anyone say that I guess.”
“No one?”
“Well I was in a real low security place, you know?”
Harry is really fucking confused.
Niall’s still talking. “So, are we gonna reach civilization anytime soon? Because as much as I like trees I’d like to use a real bathroom and maybe get something to eat.”
“Yeah, we’re about five minutes from the gas station. I have to stop and buy my mom some ice and then it’s about another half hour of trees to get home. I can drop you where you want in town if you’d like.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
It seems like the conversation has reached it’s natural end so Harry turns the radio back up and they get through two songs before he’s pulling into the gas station.
“I’m gonna go grab some ice, you coming?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so. Don’t really wanna show my face around yet. Can you buy me some Doritos and Gatorade?”
Harry hesitates, he hates to sound greedy, “Will you be able to pay me back?”
“Yeah, I mean, if it comes to that. Don’t really have any money on me right now.”
“Right.”
He leaves the car running and he hears his mom’s voice in his head, That’s awfully trusting, in that tone that says she just thinks he’s being stupid. “Well, Mom,” he stops, finishes the sentence inside his head, “it’s cold and I need to leave the heat on for Niall.”
It turns out he didn’t really need to worry because Niall barely has time to switch the radio and rifle through the glove box before Harry is back with an armful of ice. Literally. Like six bags. He drops the bags in the back seat and the car dips. “I’ll be right back I have to go back in for your food.”
He reemerges with the promised food and drink and slides into the front seat, dropping it in Niall’s lap.
“So the cashier said the motel has no vacancies and it’s really the only one for miles in any direction but there’s a futon in my house that doesn’t really get used or we could put a sleeping bag in the tub I used to do that when I was a kid or there’s room on my floor of you could use the empty bunk in my little sister’s room if you’d like-“ Harry pauses to breathe but Niall cuts him off.
“What do you need all that ice for?”
“Um,” apparently Niall hasn’t been listening because he’s been too busy staring at all the ice in the back seat, “we have a big freezer.”
Niall’s face is twisted up in a painful looking knot.
“Okay, like, I’m just gonna fucking ask. Are you gonna cut me up with your fucking deli flesh cutting knives and keep me on ice in your freezer because I’d rather turn myself in than deal with that.”
Harry is shocked into a short silence.
“I can honestly say the idea never crossed my mind.”
“Okay.” Apparently Harry’s reassurance is enough for Niall because he leans back and puts his feet up on the dash, mashing his face into the window. “Wake me when we’re home.”
Harry puts the car in reverse. Huh. “Turn yourself in?”
“Don’t worry about it.”