Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"I'm going to take care of you."

It's a strange voice. Like as if a child was speaking. Is Harry dreaming? He can't seem to open his eyes. Perhaps this is a lucid dream? He read an article about it the other day, that must've influenced his brain in some way.

"I know you will, honey, but we need to let daddy rest, yeah? Go to granny and she'll give you a snack."

This voice is definitely adult. But what the fuck is that supposed to mean? The tone of the voice is vaguely familiar but Harry can't place it. If only he could wake up. He feels fuzzy, like his entire body was made out of TV static. He tries to open his eyes. It's not hard, he's done it a billion times before.

"Okay, dad. But what if daddy wakes up when I'm gone?"

The child again. Harry slowly feels more awake. God, he hopes he's not actually talking in his sleep. That'd be embarrassing.

"Don't worry about that, babe. I'll come and get you if he does, yeah? Now be a good girl and go say hi to your gran."

This was the somewhat familiar voice once more. Who does it remind him of?

Okay, fuck lucid dreaming. Harry's not a fan at all. Why do people want these? It's so strange. He needs to wake up, seriously.

But it's so hard. Somehow, Harry's eyelids feel like they're made out of burn-out stars and weigh more than half of the explored universe. He tries and tries and tries to no avail. His body almost feels detached from him. He thinks he moved a few fingers. Hopefully.

"Haz?"

Lucid dreams, go to hell. Will there be a demon at the foot of his bed when he opens his eyes?

Harry feels superhuman when his eyelids finally cooperate and begin to rise up, letting light onto his sensitive eyes. Everything's too fucking bright. He must've forgotten to draw the curtains at night. When his eyes adjust, Harry finally looks out again and holy fucking shit.

This is not his bedroom. This is a hospital.

"Am I-" Harry coughs, his throat dry as a bloody desert. "Am I sleeping?"

"Haz?" there's the familiar voice again. Harry tries to move his head to where the voice is coming from but the second he does, his entire body breaks out in pain. He whimpers, closing his eyes and the voice speaks again, "Babe, what's wrong? What hurts? I'm gonna call the doctor, okay? You're alright, babe, just open your eyes. Talk to me, please."

Harry moves through the pain and opens his eyes again, this time the motion much easier. And when he looks out into the room again, he sees a dark-haired man sitting in a chair by Harry's bed. He's holding his hand and wait, Harry knows him. He's pretty sure he does.

"Where's my mum?" Harry asks, his voice weak. His head is starting to throb with the mother of all headaches.

"She's on her way," the man replies. His name still eludes Harry. "She was in Greece with her girlfriends and she couldn't get a flight back yesterday. But she should be here in a couple of hours."

Harry groans softly as a particularly nasty bound of pain hits him. "Wait," he breathes out. "You're Zayn, right? Niall's mate?"

Zayn's entire face drops. "Technically. Wait, what day do you think it is today?"

"Um," Harry thinks, rubbing his temple mindlessly. "Friday?"

"I mean year," Zayn clarifies, the grave expression still on his face.

"Fucking hell," Harry sighs. "May 2015? The... 29th? I submitted my thesis on Monday and that was the 25th."

"God," Zayn sighs and leans back in the flimsy plastic chair. He covers his face with his hands. Harry frowns at him, "What's going on? Have I been in a coma for a while? Because that would've bloody sucked. Have I missed graduation?"

"Daddy!" the same little voice from when Harry thought he was dreaming screams and before he can ever properly look at the child, Harry has a little girl catapulting herself onto his bed. He can't do much as he's in utter shock, the girl clinging to him and going on about something along the lines of: "You're finally awake daddy!" and Harry can't breathe.

"Sadie, please leave daddy alone," Zayn says as he lifts the little girl off from Harry's bed. She trashes for a bit before he sits her on his hip, their heads close together as he talks to her, "Daddy isn't feeling well, baby. You need to be a big girl for him and be with granny until daddy's better. Can you do that for daddy, please?"

The girl, Sadie, apparently, looks up at Zayn with her huge green eyes, a pout on her lips before she nods and asks to be put down on the floor. Zayn complies after kissing her forehead and Sadie leaves again, but not before taking one final look behind at the door.

Harry breathes in deeply as if he had just come out from being underwater for a century. "What the fuck is going on?" he asks, his heart drumming up a marching band in his chest. "Why does that child think I'm her father?"

"Harry," Zayn says quietly, sitting on the side of Harry's bed. "You must have retrograde amnesia. The doctors said it was a possibility after they did a scan. You were hit quite badly in the head. Someone should be coming in a moment, I've no clue what's taking so long. They'll explain everything but just to give you an idea, you were in a pretty serious car accident. It's literally a miracle you have no broken bones. You've loads of bruises, quite a few cuts from the glass, some had to be stitched up. And obviously a really bad concussion. That little girl who was just here is Sadie and you are her father. She also has a little brother called Noah. And I'm not Niall's mate, I'm your husband. "

Harry laughs. That's his immediate reaction to this. Because there's no fucking way. No, this can't be right. He could never forget his two children. That's impossible. His brain could've been scrambled egg but Harry knows if he actually had kids, he wouldn't forget them no matter what.

"Why are you laughing?" Zayn frowns. "This isn't funny, Harry."

"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head. "This is hilarious. So is the prank over now? Where's Niall with a camera or something? C'mon, I don't like this. Was I really in an accident? And then you lads decided to trick me?"

Zayn looks mortified. "Why would I ever joke about you forgetting our family? What the fuck, Harry?"

"Whatever," Harry rolls his eyes. His head spins right after he does that. "Where's Xander?"

Zayn's eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. "Xander?"

"Yes," Harry nods softly, mindful of his sore head after the unpleasant reminder. "My boyfriend, Xander. Where is he?"

Now Zayn's the one to chuckle but there isn't an ounce of humour in it. "Xander moved back to Florida in June 2015. You haven't talked to him since."

Harry's breath catches in his throat. "Xander would never leave me."

"He sure fucking did," Zayn replies calmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Look at your left ring finger, please."

Harry nearly scoffs but he does it nevertheless. Upon lifting his left arm he sees an IV stuck into him, as well as several large plasters and one bandage. There are bruises littered around his skin so fine, he obviously did get into an accident. When he looks at his ring finger, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, except for the fact that all his nails are painted a pale orange colour but Lou sometimes painted his nails when she was bored so it's nothing too crazy.

And then he sees it, on the inside of his fingers. A tattoo, one that obviously isn't new given that ink on fingers deteriorates faster than anywhere else. It's simple - Z . III MMXVI - but it says more than enough. Why else would he have Zayn's initial along with the date of March 2016 tattooed on his ring finger?

Upon closer examination, Harry notices a paler ring of skin on his finger, as if he had a ring sitting there at all times, preventing the sun from tanning that skin. When he moves his eyes along his arm, he sees new tattoos that he doesn't remember getting, doesn't remember having. Harry's stomach drops down into the pits of hell when he sees two names tattooed in cursive on his left arm. One says Sadie and the other one Noah.

Harry feels short of breath, with tears prickling his eyes because he can't fucking remember any of this when presumably his doctor comes in. It's a fairly young, tall blonde woman, who looks a little bit like she ran there.

"God, I'm so sorry for coming so late," she breathes out as she pulls out Harry's file from the clipboard at the foot of Harry's bed. "They brought it an old lady who fell and I had to examine her first so she could be taken to get a scan. Anyway, it's good to see you awake, Harry," she speaks casually, almost as if they were friends, all without lifting her eyes from the file. "Your husband was worried sick about you. So were your kids, sweet little things. How are you feeling?"

Harry blinks at her a few times. "I can't remember the last... however many years of my life so that's fun."

"Oh no," the doctor's shoulders drop. She looks over at Zayn, "I'm so sorry, I was hoping he wouldn't end up with amnesia but with the concussion he had..." she shakes her head quickly and shifts her attention back to Harry. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"I, uh," Harry takes in a deep breath. "I thought it was the week when I had submitted my thesis. May 2015. The last thing I can remember is... I was supposed to have lunch with my boyfriend Xander. Ex-boyfriend, I guess."

Zayn's looking down at the floor. Harry can't imagine what must be going through his head. It's easier to try and guess than to sort out his own feelings because as far as Harry's concerned, he knows Zayn only as Niall's outrageously attractive friend who always laughed at Harry's stupid jokes and sometimes hung out in the library with him, not as his husband and someone he has two kids with. Shit, Harry has kids. He has actual children. Yet he doesn't know a single thing about this life that simply dissipated from his memory and consciousness.

Harry just wants his mum to be here. And Xander but that's impossible it seems since they haven't talked in... whatever years.

"Wait, what year is it now?" Harry asks finally.

"It's 2022," the doctor replies. "July 20th 2022."

Fuck.

xxx

Harry slept and slept and slept for hours after the doctor had left. When he woke up, his mum was there already and Zayn was gone. Harry felt panicked when he remembered what had happened earlier and dread overcame him, along with the biting need to apologise. It's not his fault he had forgotten literally seven years of his life but he can't go back to this life he has, apparently. Not right now anyway. And he does apologise when Zayn comes back a few hours later, rather frantically because, in his mind, he's 21, just finishing uni and dating Xander but in reality, he has a husband and two children, who must miss him but it's fucking hard because Harry isn't their daddy. Technically, yes, he is but at the same time, he isn't. He forgot Noah's name until he had to sneakily look at his tattoo and remind himself the name of his child.

He's discharged the next morning and goes to stay with his mum. Zayn brought him his laptop from their house (fucking hell, they have a house), duly telling that his password is Sadie29110617Noah, Sadie and Noah's birthdates, Noah's with the month before the day. Because Harry never would've figured it out. Well, maybe he would've after hours and hours. He wouldn't think about trying the birthdays of some kids that are actually his. He would've tried his and Xander's anniversary or his mum's birthday or the name of his first cat (which wasn't actually just Dusty, a simple password, but Lord Dustington III).

Harry feels like he's stuck in a sci-fi film from the '60s. Staying at his mum's house makes this whole situation even worse because he finds out Robin passed away a couple of years ago and there are two new cats who Harry can't tell apart. It's akin to how watching The Incredible Shrinking Man felt. Harry sort of expects himself to perish like the man from the film did, only he's not getting smaller but forgetting more and more and more until his consciousness leaves completely and his corporeal form disintegrates into dust particles.

The first thing he does once he's back in his old room, which is now lacking all the posters and whatnot, as it had been slightly converted into a guest room, just still with his old furniture and most of his things still there, is take off his clothes and look at himself in the mirror. Apart from the nail polish, a very striking change is his hair. Harry remembers having long hair that went down to his shoulders in curls. Now his hair barely reaches his ears and is only vaguely wavy. There are new tattoos, apart from the one with Zayn's initial and the kids' names. And surprisingly, he's fitter than he remembers being. His arms are leaner, his stomach more defined and frankly, his arse and thighs look amazing. Harry hopes he has a trainer in a gym somewhere because currently, he has no clue how to maintain this figure. There is a long, thin scar on the side of his right wrist and when he asks his mum where he got it, she says it was from when he was baking a cake for Sadie's first birthday and he hit his wrist against the burning hot rack inside the oven.

Niall comes over the first day he's at his mum's. He tries to hide his distress behind laughter, as usual, so at least that is still the same. Even if he has brown hair now, it's still the same Niall Harry remembers from a time that is now far, far in the past to everyone but him. Niall jokes about the whole thing in between poorly disguised questions of concern and Harry almost forgets about everything for a while.

"Hit your old knob really good, didn't ya," Niall laughs over tea in the sitting room. "But you don't like, have some serious brain damage or whatnot, right?"

"No," Harry shakes his head with a wistful smile. "I'm technically healthy. Just lost my memories. Lots of them it seems."

"Oh, Haz," Niall sighs, his shoulders dropping. "I'm so sorry this happened. It's mad. I don't know how you're sitting here, talking to me. I would've just curled up in me bed and cried like a baby."

Harry breathes in deeply. He doesn't dare to look Niall in the eye. "In my head, I'm still 21. I don't-" Harry looks up to Niall's worried gaze. "I know that there are two little kids who miss me, miss their father but I don't see myself as that person. I don't think I am that person. As horrible as it sounds, I don't miss them because yesterday, I could barely remember their names. Three days ago, they were my kids and they were probably on my mind 24/7 but today, I think in the same way I did when I was 21 and they weren't even alive back then. Like, today, when I got back, I almost went and tried to text Xander? Because what I remember last is that I was dating him. I wasn't married. I didn't have children. How much has changed since then? How am I supposed to catch up with it all?"

Niall sighs, rubbing his palms together, his eyes turned down to the floor. He looks up at Harry after a moment, gently shaking his head. "I guess you have to, somehow. We will all help you. Do you know if your memory's coming back?"

"I hope so," Harry says quietly. "Dr Carrey said it should come back. It might take a few days. It might take weeks. And then there's the option that I'll never fully get all those memories back."

"Fuck," Niall curses, huffing out a breath. "You'll get them back, Haz. Don't worry."

Harry just nods silently. His mind is like a beehive, constantly. He shouldn't stimulate himself too much to let himself heal but it's impossible. How can he relax and not think when there are seven years of his life missing?

"I dropped by at your house before I came here."

Harry looks up at Niall with a frown. He is at his house. Then it clicks. Niall doesn't mean his mum's house, he means the house he and Zayn have. The house Harry has no memory of.

"Yeah?" is all Harry can reply to it.

"Don't view this as... blackmail or somethin'" Niall says carefully. "But I really do fucking hope your memory comes back soon for the sake of everyone involved. Zayn's acting all aloof and shite but I've known him far too long not to see through that. The kids miss you too. You should at least call them. Take a few days if you need to but... even if you don't remember, Haz, they're your family."

"I know," Harry says, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn't really know. He has no fucking clue what to do next. He doesn't know how to feel.

"I've been here for all of it Haz," Niall says delicately, choosing words carefully. "I saw how you and Zayn fell madly in love and then got married not even a year later like the psychos you two were back then. Still are sometimes. I was there when both Sadie and Noah came into your lives. I'm actually Sadie's godfather. Had to fight Jeff for it but I won in the end, obviously. Every other weekend we have lunch together either at your place or mine. You're my best mate, Haz, but so is Zayn and I can't sit here and lie to you. I can't. I'm here for you, 100% but I will also be completely honest with you, even if you don't want to hear it."

Harry's throat is choked up. He's never seen Niall like this. "Thank you," Harry gets out quickly. "Um, are you married?"

Niall chuckles pitifully. "Was engaged last year. She broke it off a few months back. It didn't work out."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry says automatically. "Erin was great."

Niall's eyes widen. "Oh my god," he breathes out. "Oh my god!"

"What?" Harry frowns at him before it finally clicks. "Oh god! I remembered her name!"

"You fucking did!" Niall laughs, shaking his head. "Out of all the bloody things."

Well, it was literally out of all the bloody things because Harry didn't remember a single other thing that day. But the simple mention of Niall's ex-fianceé prompted the memory to come back, fuzzy and incomplete but still there. So Harry decided to go sleuthing on his own life.

The passcode on Harry's phone changed as well. It's 190316. It's his and Zayn's wedding date (fucking wedding date) and of course, Harry has trouble remembering it. Thankfully, his fingerprint hasn't changed and he can use TouchID just fine. And the phone is unrecognizable. His lockscreen is a photo of Sadie and Noah, not a funny photo of one of his mum's cats. That's the first time he even sees Noah, on a fucking lockscreen of all places. But there's not a bit of recognition. He sees the photo of the two smiling children and there's nothing in Harry's head. When he sees Sadie, he can recall only the shock of her calling him daddy in the hospital and the hushed conversation she had with Zayn afterwards.

He lays in his old bed as he slowly scrolls through the images of a life he can't remember living. Photo by photo, not just scrolling through the photostream, it's painfully slow and Harry feels like oxygen avoids him at all times. The latest photo on his phone is a screenshot of a recipe for buckwheat pancakes, which is apparently the type of food he makes now. Then it's another screenshot, this one of a schedule for events for the end of Sadie's daily summer camp in August. The third photo hits Harry like a dagger in his throat. It's a photo of Sadie and Noah in a sandbox, building a sandcastle. The address stamp says 'Home'. Harry swallows and thumbs onto the next photo. It is actually a short video, not a photo, of Zayn tossing Noah up into the air as he squeals in glee. The video ends with Zayn looking at the camera with a wide smile, Noah in a football hold still giggling, and he speaks to a Harry that is now forgotten in 2015/2022 Harry's mind. 'You filming again, babe?' he asks and the Harry with his memory replies 'Course I am. You're really fit and our baby is adorable. How can I not?'. Then the video's over.

Harry locks his phone and throws it somewhere onto the carpeted floor. It's his voice. It's his husband and his child yet he doesn't really know them. The last actual memory of Zayn Harry can remember is from earlier in May, just before Harry finished his thesis. They ran into each other in the library on campus. Harry was there just for a moment to return two books before going on a date with Xander. Zayn was polishing up his referencing on his own thesis. They talked for a few minutes, Harry asked him to come to a pub quiz that weekend, Zayn said maybe, if he's done with referencing by then, they said goodbye and that was it.

How in the hell did they end up getting married and having two children together?

xxx

The morning is horrible. Harry wakes up and in those fragile moments before being awake and still asleep, he forgets about what has been going on these past few days. Then when he's fully conscious, he realizes he had a slightly inappropriate dream about Xander. Harry then finds his phone on the ground and when he sees the lockscreen, he's hit by a wave of unimaginable guilt. Right, he's on a mission. Try to remember your fucking life.

He calls Jeff, who is conveniently in LA right now since he splits his time between LA and London and who Harry thankfully remembers and is still friends with. What was pretty rough was finding out just how many people he isn't close to anymore. He barely talks to Lou these days, even though he's Lux's godfather. But at least she somehow found out and sent him a text with well-wishes. He actually doesn't talk to Liam and Louis. Apparently, Niall said, they just drifted apart after uni. There wasn't a fight or anything, with either of them. Two of his friends committed suicide.

"Did you take your pills?" Anne asks Harry in the kitchen when she notices him rubbing his temples one too many time as he stares at his laptop.

"I did," Harry says. "This is just a mess. There's so much."

"I know, love," she says, standing behind his chair, her hand in his hair like when he was a kid frustrated with homework. "Can I help you with anything?"

Harry frowns at the screen as he logs into Facebook thanks to keychain and the saved passwords. "Where's Gemma, actually? She sent me one text and that's it."

"Oh, she's on a business trip to Singapore. I phoned her last night and she said she'll come back as soon as she can," Anne replies. "Any other mysteries to decipher?"

"About a million," Harry sighs, scrolling through random messages. He's not in the mood to read them all and find out how even more of his friendships have changed. "I don't use Facebook much, do I?"

"No, you don't," Anne chuckles lightheartedly. "You're on Instagram. Twitter too sometimes. I am too, actually. You got me hooked on it."

"That's sweet," Harry tries to smile. "I don't know where to start with this." He's on his profile now, the last post being from Noah's second birthday party in June 2022. So last month. It's a photo of him and Zayn holding Noah up, blowing out the candles with him on a Paddington-themed cake, with a simple caption, Our baby boy is two today! , along with an emoji with a party hat. Harry minimizes the screen.

"I don't think I can do this," Harry chokes out. Anne sits down in the chair next to him, grabbing his hand. "I tried last night. To go through my phone. I couldn't. I saw three photos and one video. I just- it made no sense, it hurt, I couldn't recognise any of it. But when I see these kids, I can feel this... hole opening up in my chest like I was falling down through it to an abyss. My heart just shrivels up and doesn't let me do anything."

"They're your children, Harry," Anne smiles sadly. "You love them, even if you can't remember them right now. It won't change, love."

Harry can feel tears trying to break out. "What if I never remember them? What if I can't do this? They're gonna be missing a parent completely but I'm not dead but in this situation, I'm as good as dead because I'm no use to them. I can go back to my old life, maybe. But Sadie and Noah will always know that I'm somewhere out there but I just can't be their dad anymore. What if I really can't go back? To either? Because everyone has changed. I'm not with Xander anymore, I'm not friends with loads of people anymore. Those friends that have stayed have changed a lot. What am I supposed to do, mum?"

"Just try, honey," Anne shakes her head a little, grabbing both of Harry's hands in hers. Harry has salty tears sliding down his cheeks. "Give it time. Even just feeling what you feel when you see Sadie and Noah is a great step forward because somewhere deep down, you still know they're your kids and you love them."

Harry breathes in shakily. "What about Zayn? What if I never remember anything from our marriage? He would be living with a stranger just because of our children? If I don't get my memory back, the man he married is gone forever. Because right now, I'm not that man."

Anne sighs. "Sweetheart, you love him just as much as you love Sadie and Noah. That can't be gone completely if you still love Noah and Sadie. But if the worst were to happen, you two don't necessarily have to stay together."

"So I'd divorce him just because I don't remember him," Harry chuckles bitterly. "That's grand. God, why did this have to happen to me?" he fully breaks down then, leaning over and dropping his head on Anne's shoulder.

"I don't know, baby," Anne says soothingly as she rubs his back. "It'll be fine soon. It has to be."

xxx

Harry can't sleep that night. He's tossing and turning as much as his injuries allow him. Restlessness is itching at his skin. His whole life is neatly packaged inside his phone and laptop, ready to be viewed but Harry's scared. He's simply scared. He doesn't know if he can handle being slapped in the face with the truth, with this life where he is a father and a husband when he has no fucking clue how to be either. He's scared that he won't remember, ever, and this ghost of the life he's had will follow him forever.

Naturally, Harry does something stupid next. He calls Xander.

When the phone starts ringing, Harry's surprised Xander still has the same number. He's also surprised he still even has Xander's number in his phone.

"Hello?"

Oh, shit, he picked up. "Um, Xander? Hi, it's Harry."

"Harry? As in Styles?"

"Well, apparently I have a different last name now but yes," Harry chuckles nervously. He's been told they haven't spoken in years but it feels like it's been just a few days.

"Apparently?" Xander scoffs. "I know you're married, Harry. Why are you calling me?"

"This is quite a funny situation," Harry chuckles again. He tries to force himself to remember that he's not speaking to his boyfriend right now but instead a stranger, effectively. "I was in an accident a few days back and I, uh, I've got retrograde amnesia and um, I woke up thinking we were still together. Funny, right? Also fucking horrible."

"Okay, well, I can assure you that we are not together anymore," Xander says simply. "As far as I know, you have a really hot husband and two small kids so you have no business calling me."

"I know," Harry says quickly, fearing Xander might hang up. "But I'm trying to, you know, get my memories back. And I think it helps if I get the information I need from the people directly connected with the event I'm trying to remember. I really have just one question for you."

"Okay, go ahead."

Harry breathes in. "How did we break up?"

Xander laughs a little. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"Um, it was the week when I submitted my thesis and I remember just being out and I knew I had a lunch date with you," Harry replies.

"Oh, okay, this is easy then," Xander says. "We broke up that day. We had lunch at Lettuce and Slugs and we broke up. Well, I broke up with you."

Harry's mouth drops open. His head is a fucking mess. "Wait, were you wearing my shirt? The green one with the leaves pattern?"

"That was yours?" Xander asks distractedly. "I guess, I don't know. But I remember it was just as you were finishing up at school. And it was a lunch."

"Oh my god," Harry whines a little. "You had a fucking hickey on your neck! That wasn't from me because we hadn't fucked in two weeks because I was too busy finishing up my thesis."

"Yeah, I was sleeping with Jenny," Xander snickers. "You noticed and yelled at me. Like a few moments, after I said I'm breaking up with you, you noticed the hickey. You yelled at me like a mad man and threw your drink into my face."

"You fucking deserved it!" Harry yells while still trying to whisper. "Thanks for still being the same arsehole you were back then!" Harry hangs up before Xander gets another word in.

He feels sick, actually sick because he remembers. He remembers coming there, in good spirits after he got off a call with his mum, wanting to see Xander because he had been swamped with work and now finally he had time to be with his boyfriend. Only for that fucking hurricane to come in and ruin everything.

They didn't even have their food yet. Xander was too impatient to break up with Harry that they didn't even have lunch after all. And Harry remembers it too fucking well. The feeling of his stomach dropping when he saw the hickey, the rush of anger before he threw his pomegranate juice into Xander's face, rushing out of the restaurant and crying on the tube back to his flat.

Harry feels like his lungs are collapsing on him as memories come rushing in. Gemma coming to his flat and feeding him ice cream as he mourned his breakup. Going out drinking with the lads and puking outside a club. The dull days afterwards.

He knows what he has to do now. Harry takes his phone, the one with the painful lockscreen, and finds photos from May and June 2015 in the gallery. Thank god or whoever for iCloud. This has to help him. There's nothing better to help him right now.

Only the photos from the time don't tell him much. A drunken selfie with Niall. Liam shirtless in a club with a cigar between his lips. A photo of his mum's cats. Screenshots of suits that Harry now recognizes as those he was considering wearing for his graduation. There's nothing special, nothing that sparks up his memory again like that. With some photos, Harry can remember a new thing or two. He definitely remembers now how he helped Niall dye his hair to look like the Irish flag after he had lost a bet.

Then in July, there's one photo that makes Harry's breath catch in his throat. It's a simple one, just a picture of the sunrise through a window, taken from a bed. And Harry knows that room. It isn't his but he knows it because he spent almost the entire summer of 2016 there.

It's Zayn's room in the flat he was sharing with Niall and Liam. Harry had never been inside before that night in July when he and Zayn slept together for the first time.

Harry closes his eyes forcefully, placing his phone screen down on his chest. Suddenly it's so vivid. The lights of the club. The bottle of tequila. Zayn's lips on his neck. Them stumbling into the flat after 3 AM and fucking until the sun came up. But that's it. He knows he's been in that room many times but not much else. And their first night together. That one's blurry still but it's probably due to Harry's blood alcohol level that night and not his retrograde amnesia.

That's enough for one night, Harry thinks. Before his past, present and future drive him insane.

xxx

Harry's first thought after waking up is "Shit, I'm late for work". He isn't. He's on leave, obviously, since he doesn't quite remember how to do his job. He's fine with remembering what he learned in his bachelor's degree but not a thing from his masters or from the time he's been practising.

One good moment from this whole retrograde amnesia saga was that Harry's job is what he wanted all along. He's a therapist, he got his masters and apparently, he'd been planning to get his PhD once Sadie and Noah were older. That's great news but what's fucked up is that it shouldn't be news at all. Today, Harry should've woken up, gotten himself and his kids ready and driven to work, like any other day. But instead, he doesn't even remember where he works, what his children usually have for breakfast and most crucially, Harry doesn't remember the name of a single patient, let alone what their problems actually are.

But the night before gave Harry a lot of insight. He remembers a tiny bit more now. He can clearly understand why he and Xander aren't together anymore, which is a relief. It's almost as if he's disgusted by thinking in present time that he's in love with Xander. But Harry also knows how he and his current husband started their relationship. While not being too clear, Harry can recall the attraction, the wild thing that rose up between them seemingly out of nowhere. He can't remember falling in love with Zayn but he can remember really wanting to sleep with him. Well... it's a start, isn't it?

For this day, Harry decides to take the first step - call Zayn. It was two days of nothing and even if Harry doesn't remember, he can empathise with the situation. If he was in Zayn's shoes, he doesn't think he would even leave him but Harry asked Zayn to leave him alone for now and it's probably a testament to their relationship that he let him, that he was supportive and brought Harry some things from home, like his laptop, charger and some clothes Harry couldn't believe were really his. (Since when does he wear huge, wide-legged pants? They do absolutely nothing for his arse.)

After breakfast, Harry realizes that he's bored. He's not used to being bored. Alongside that, he hates feeling useless. He's not at his job, which is understandable but still, he needs to add it to the list of steps he's meaning to take and it should be soon, before those memories leave him forever. So Harry cooks lunch for himself and his mum and changes out the cats' litter box. There. He's not so useless anymore.

It's around 3 PM when Harry finally feels brave enough to pick up his phone and call Zayn. He tries to remember that one video he saw, how happy Zayn looked. That photo with Noah on Harry's Facebook. They're still a family, even without the memories. Harry realizes that he can't just act like a 21-year-old again. Especially not when there are children involved. He's an adult, he has responsibilities and just because he can't remember what exactly those responsibilities are, it doesn't mean they're gone.

So Harry gets his phone and calls Zayn, who's saved as 'Loml' with lots of heart-shaped emojis and the contact photo is of Zayn making a funny face.

"Harry?"

For a split second, Harry considers hanging up. He should've texted. "Hi!" he says a bit too cheerfully before clearing his throat. "Hi. I just wanted to... have a chat I guess."

"That's good, yeah," Zayn says and Harry can't even guess what he might be thinking. "How are you? Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you," Harry replies. God, why is he so formal? "Niall came over."

"I know," Zayn replies. "He told me before he left. Came over actually."

"Yeah, I know," Harry nods, even though Zayn can't see through the phone. "How are you?"

Zayn takes a pause. "I'm, uh, alright, all things considered. Noah's a bit of a nightmare, the terrible twos are truly hitting hard- sorry, you don't know about any of that, I won't burden you with that information right now."

"No!" Harry says immediately. "No, please, I know I don't remember but I want to. I really want to. I have remembered a few things actually."

"Oh? Something recent?"

"Well, the first thing was Erin, Niall's ex," Harry chuckles nervously. "I asked him if he was married and after he said he was engaged and they broke up, her name and some memories of her just came back to me. Then, um, I called Xander."

"You called him?"

"Yes," Harry admits, his cheeks going red for no reason. "I wanted to know how we broke up, he told me and immediately, memories just came rushing back to me. So I remember that and basically the aftermath of it, a few weeks maybe. And also, um, how we started, you know, sleeping together. You and I."

"Oh. Well, that's, uh, surprising," Zayn says. "But at least it's something. Guess I'm not just Niall's mate anymore. Hopefully, we'll go from 'booty call' to where we were last week."

Harry laughs, his chest finally feeling lighter. "Yeah, hopefully. Oh, and today morning I woke up thinking I was late for work. I can kinda remember what my office looks like but that's it."

"That's great, Haz," Zayn says. "If you wanted, I could call the receptionist for you? Or just do it yourself, her name's Freddie, you should have her number somewhere on your phone." Before he even finishes talking, Harry thinks he can hear Sadie screaming and then Zayn talking to her. "No, not now, sweetheart, you'll talk to daddy later, yeah? I promise, baby."

"I wanna talk to her," Harry says before he can stop himself. "I- it's okay, really. I know she must miss me."

"She does," Zayn says. "Okay, here she goes."

"Daddy!" Sadie screams into the phone. Harry smiles a little. "I miss you! But dad said you're sick and you're with grandma now so I have to wait until you take me swimming again. Noah is annoying lately. He's crying if you say no but then he says no all the time! When are you coming back?"

There's the guilt again. Both because he's missing out on this, he can't remember anything, yet he doesn't want to miss these moments. Why? He's not quite sure yet. But also it isn't fair for Zayn to be taking care of two kids under five on his own. He might act like it's fine but even though Harry can't remember taking care of his own children, he has a brood of godchildren too and those he remembers pretty well.

"I'll try to come soon, strawberry," Harry says. "Really soon. I'll be back so soon you won't even notice, yeah? What did you do today, love?"

"I had camp and I just got back," Sadie says. "Noah tried to eat glue but dad stopped him. Oh, and we're having dinner with uncle Niall. But that's later today. What did you do, daddy?"

"I cooked with grandma and... took care of her kitties," Harry replies. "Do you remember them?"

"Of course, daddy, we went there like two weeks ago," Sadie giggles. "Dad said you don't remember stuff and that I shouldn't ask you much stuff but do you remember our kitty?"

Harry raises his brows. Okay, so he forgot his husband, two children and a cat. "No, sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Sadie says offhandedly in the way children often do. "I'll tell dad to send you a photo. His name is Paul and he's all black. His farts are very smelly. And his breath stinks. But he likes to cuddle and he licks my hand if I give him treats and sometimes when I take a nap, he takes a nap with me too."

"Oh, that's so great, Sadie," Harry chokes out. Tears are lining his eyes again. "Can you give me dad again? We need to talk about grown-up stuff."

"Okay, bye daddy, I love you."

"I love you too, angel," Harry says. And it's true. He can't remember things, he doesn't even know what Sadie's second name is, but she still is his daughter and he loves her. Love like that can't just disappear.

"I forgot to tell you about Paul," Zayn says when he's back on the phone. "You adore that cat. We got him when Sadie was a baby. You thought it would be sick for her to have a pet that she literally grew up with. So far, it's working out. She loves that cat."

"Can we meet up?" Harry asks, neglecting the info about their cat. "Like, tomorrow? It's Saturday. You don't have work, right?"

"No, I don't," Zayn replies. "Technically, I'm on leave until the end of next week."

"I feel horrible for asking but what do you do?" Harry wants to hit his forehead with his palm but that would probably fuck up his brain even more. "I remember you did English in uni."

"It's okay," Zayn says but Harry knows it's obviously not okay. "I'm a lecturer at UCL. It's summer, yeah, but I'm doing a summer class as well. Since Sadie and Noah are at camp now, you insisted, wanted them to socialize more, I figured I could do a class instead of sitting on my arse all summer. A colleague is covering my lectures for me right now."

"I'm sorry," Harry says again.

"It's not your fault, Haz," Zayn says in a quiet voice. "I'm just glad you're alive. The bloke that hit you didn't survive. At least you're here and you're healthy."

Harry clears his throat. "So tomorrow? Coffee maybe?"

"Yeah, we can do coffee," Zayn says. "How does midday sound? We can grab lunch too if you wanted. Sorry for the time but the kids will be at summer camp then, so. I can pick you up."

"No, of course," Harry says quickly. "I just sit around and do a whole lot of nothing except for trying to remember my bloody life, but yeah, noon is fine. I'll be waiting."

"Okay, I've got to go now, Noah's crying again," Zayn sighs. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

"Oh, one more thing," Zayn says just as Harry was about to hang up and wallow in self-pity. "You remembered Sadie's nickname. Strawberry. You started calling her that when she was really tiny because when she cried, her face would get all red and then you'd be all like 'Aw, my little strawberry is crying'. So yeah. She doesn't get like that anymore, not really but the nickname stuck."

Harry bites his lips, trying to keep the tears at bay. "That's really, really good. Really. I'll see you." He rushes to hang up the phone before he starts sobbing. Because he can remember it now. Sadie as an infant, teeny tiny, screaming her little lungs out. At first, it was just a small joke between him and Zayn, how red she got. He remembers getting concerned about it later and asking her GP if it's normal and okay at her 2-month check-up. After he had found out that Sadie is completely fine, Harry gave himself a green light on the strawberry nickname.

It's strange, the way he remembers things. Some would think it's like when on TV and a whole film rolls in his head, with the moments he's lost being replayed for him. But it's more like the cutting floor of an editing studio, just bits and pieces. He can suddenly see Sadie as a baby in his arms, her nursery around them. Bits of that GP interaction. Sadie lying on the bed between him and Zayn as they talked in hushed voices. Sadie's first laugh. A onesie with strawberries Harry got for her. Sadie in a strawberry patch grinning with her first teeth. Then it just stops.

Harry doesn't know for how long he cries on his mum's patio until she comes in, sitting next to him on the lounger and wrapping him in a hug.

"You alright, love?" Anne asks.

Harry lifts his head up from his hands, looking at her. "I have a daughter, mum, who's a really lovely and brilliant girl, and I call her 'strawberry'. And I can't remember what I did with her last week or the first time I held her or why we named her Sadie or what her first word was. I don't know if she has any allergies, what's her favourite animal, nothing. I do know that I love her so fucking much but I can't be a father to her right now. I don't think I can. And I'm terrified I'll never be able to. Or I'll go back to them and they'll hate me because I'll be shit. I'm scared I'll come back, fuck everything up and lose them because I'll be not only a horrible father but a horrible husband as well."

"Harry," Anne says with an inviting smile but also her scolding voice. "You just told me you love her. And that's all you need to raise a child. Everything else will follow. You believed at first you're 21 right now, yes?"

Harry nods.

"Sadie came into your lives when you were 23, sweetie," Anne squeezes his hand. "You and Zayn got married when you were 22. It isn't that big of a difference, is it? Besides, you are actually 28 now and you've been a dad for almost five years. You're starting to remember it all and before you know it, you're back in that old routine again."

"You think so?" Harry asks miserably, sniffling.

"I know so," Anne squeezes his hand again. "Now, let's get out of this heat. I think there's sorbet in the freezer."

xxx

After that phonecall with Zayn and Sadie and crying for half an hour, plus some more over sorbet, Harry pulls out his phone and decides to go sleuthing. Dr Carrey said that forcing himself to remember things is very counterproductive so while Harry's determined to remember his children, to remember his marriage, he's also taking it easy. Or trying to.

He figures that Instagram is the best way to start. Not directly with his own account but he starts with his friends first. He texts Niall, asking who he should check out first (apart from Niall himself obviously). Niall promptly sends Harry a list, both of old friends Harry doesn't talk to anymore but they like each other's photos on Instagram and write birthday wishes on their Facebook walls, and also new people Harry normally sees regularly but now actually can't remember.

As he said, he starts with Niall. It's a pretty extensive Instagram account. There's a couple of stories there, which is also a thing that came about in the years Harry managed to forget. They're mostly about derby and golf. So Niall hasn't changed up. As he scrolls through Niall's feed, there are a few photos where Harry can find himself, Zayn always at his side, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Niall even has a few photos with the kids, Sadie mainly, and it looks like Niall's quite a proud godfather who's determined to teach Sadie how to play the guitar (and golf) no matter what. There are not many things from the years Harry remembers. Few pics from nights out, some photos of Guinness pints and that's about it.

Harry checks out Lou next, who's apparently an Instagram influencer now and nearly unrecognizable. Honestly, Harry wouldn't be able to who she was at first glance if she approached him randomly. Lux is no longer a baby but kind of on the cusp of her teenage years. Liam lives in Vegas now where he's a DJ. He seems to be doing well for himself. Louis apparently lived in LA for a while but recently moved back home up North. He's gonna have to ask Niall about all that since there seems to be too much grief littered around his posts.

Then Harry looks at his new friends. Niall recommended Mitch, Sarah and Adam. As Harry looks at their profiles, some things pop up here and there. How he met Mitch in a pizza shop a few weeks after he started doing his masters. How he set Mitch and Sarah up. Adam's wife for some reason. There are little things and he doesn't feel shocked when he sees his own face on their profiles from time to time. He can't remember much but for some reason, it grounds him, gives him a figurative blanket over his shoulders that says 'yes, you belong somewhere'.

It takes him a good while but after he's done, Harry checks a few celebrity profiles out of sheer curiosity. He's not at all stalling.

Eventually, he has to look at his profile.

The latest photo is just from last weekend, a few days before Harry's accident. It's a photo of just him and Zayn that must've been taken with a timer or a remote. They're sitting on a blanket on the beach, painted orange by the sunset, half-full stemless glasses of wine by their sides. Their faces are barely visible in the light but their heads are close together, conspiratory almost and their smiles break through the darkness. The caption reads, 'It's always hard leaving our two little rascals behind but these few days by the coast alone, without two kids wiggling their way into our bed in the middle of the night, were quite refreshing. I'd call that a really successful 7-year-anniversary celebration. Here's to many more years with the most amazing (and gorgeous) man that I possibly could've found. You're an incredible husband, babe and such a great dad to Sadie and Noah. Love you forever. #NotWeddingAnniversary #JustDatingAnniversary #iGuess #NotReallyDating #WeStartedWithADrunkenShagSoSueUs'.

It's impossible not to cry because there is a hole in Harry's chest, he can feel it, he can feel himself caving into it and being consumed by the darkness. This was last fucking week and he can't remember. He doesn't remember the love that is evident from the photo and the caption mainly. He doesn't remember the trip to the coast itself. He doesn't remember why he ended this caption with 'Love you forever'. Everything that was important to him, that is still important to all the people he can't remember is gone. Almost entirely.

The next photo is one of Sadie and Noah, standing side by side with matching grins. Sadie's thrown up a peace sign. 'Someone's excited about summer camp! That will surely bring about lots of boo-boos to kiss and some sunburn. But there will be new friends and great memories too! #NoahDidntEvenCry #MyBabysGettingBig:(', the caption says. It's almost wholly alien to Harry, except for the little detail that came into his mind. Sadie's scraped knee that he sprayed with antiseptic on their patio and the sunburn on her nose that required some aloe from the plant in the conservatory.

It hurts more and more with each picture because Harry can see himself. He's clearly there in the photos, he wrote all those captions yet he feels like an intruder. This guy running this account is a great dad who adores his two kids and is still enamoured with his husband even after almost a decade together. And while Harry has started to remember a few things, and he knows he loves both Sadie and Noah, he still can't quite connect the two. How did he get there? When did he become someone who gets sad about his two-year-old growing up?

The next few photos are from their holiday in Portugal. One of Sadie and Noah playing in the sand. A video of Sadie doing a cartwheel. A photo of Zayn from the back with Sadie on his shoulders. One of Harry on the beach holding Noah. A picture of Sadie lying belly-down on the sand, watching a crab.

This sequence of photos makes Harry remember only one thing - Noah crying after a seagull stole his ice cream. There was laughter and cuddles and an ice cream replacement.

Harry decides to quickly scroll just through the past year or so. A lot of the posts are of the kids and there are literally no selfies. It looks curated, almost. There are photos and videos from Noah's birthday. The one from Facebook, also with a video of the party singing Happy Birthday to him. Noah with cake all over his face and a wide grin. Another nearly identical photo but now with Paul the cat licking off the icing from Noah's face. A throwback photo of Noah from the day he was born. Then it pretty much goes back to normal. There are some photos of outings with friends. Random photos of Zayn when he wasn't looking at the camera, always with a cheeky caption and usually a winking emoji too. Some food posts. A few quotes and stuff about mental health awareness. Loads of pictures of the kids. Some jogging milestones that probably piss people off when they see them (They used to piss Harry off. He didn't think he would ever become one of the people who posts them.) Few photos of Paul doing funny things. Just a regular life documented through the means of modern social media.

It's time to lock the phone when Harry gets to Christmas from the previous year and a rather adorable photo of them all (Paul too) sitting on the carpet in front of the tree in matching pyjamas. Harry wipes his tears and stops torturing himself because there is this amazing life, this picture-perfect life that is his yet it doesn't feel like it. He wants to get it back but he's afraid he won't ever be able to. How can he go back to his husband if he doesn't know why he fell in love with him in the first place? How can he be the father to his kids that they need?

As Harry feels the telltale signs of a headache coming in, he retreats back to his room and figures it's best to take a nap. Maybe the rest for his brain will help him. At this point, he'd do anything.

xxx

When Harry bolts awake a few hours later, it's already dark. Considering it's summer, he must've slept for a while. But when he comes to, he feels better than he did before, even if his eyes are still swollen from all the crying.

Harry tries to look at his Instagram again and when he starts scrolling, his heart jumps. He can remember more than he did before, his memory filling in details as he sees the photos. It's still incomplete but he can remember more than before. He knows that Noah's Paddington cake was one with vanilla buttercream and blueberries. He cried the morning of Noah's birthday because of the reminder that he's getting older and soon, he won't be a baby but a proper boy. Sadie asked for a sister after the party.

The holiday is clearer too. Harry remembers the name of the city where they stayed. One of his patients texted him in the middle of the night and he had to talk Brian out of a suicide. Zayn fell asleep on the beach and got a nasty sunburn. When they had sex later that night, he was owing and complaining about it and it was making Harry laugh so much he woke up Sadie. Noah puked on the flight back home.

It's sometimes the most random things but it's something. There is actual real hope that Harry will regain enough memory to live his life again. It makes him smile like a mad man in an empty room and his first impulse is to tell Zayn. Harry's heart skips a beat as if he was a teenager at the idea of that. Zayn's his bloody husband. They're not in uni anymore, shagging when they're both drunk or high and then being shy about it in the morning.

So Harry picks up his phone and texts him. 'Went through my Instagram. Just until Christmas of last year. I've remembered a few things. That sunburn from Portugal was interesting lol.' Is that too flirty? Should he not be flirty? He doesn't remember much but they are married.

The reply comes quite promptly, 'It really was. Your memory has a funny way of going about things lol.'

Harry smiles, texting back, 'It's not just that. There are a few things from Noah's 2nd bday, some things from the holiday. And other random stuff too. I'm slowly getting there :)'.

'I'm very happy about that babe xx. I've gotta go to bed tho, it's late. See you tomorrow x'.

Okay, a few kisses and a pet name, that's a good step forward. Harry wishes him goodnight and tries not to grin. Why does this whole chaste texting make Harry feel like he did when they first started sleeping together? It's been years and they have six years of marriage behind them.

Maybe it's because at first, Zayn seemed cold. He still does a little. But Harry understands, at least to an extent. The possibility of Harry not remembering his life is still there and he needs to protect the kids, and himself too. It's a hard and painful situation that needs to be handled with care.

But now Harry has something to look forward to. They have a coffee date tomorrow.

xxx

Harry wakes up with a throbbing headache. It's possible his rather late night was what caused it, as he was on his laptop until 3 AM, dissecting his life. Some memories came back, some photos and videos remain foreign to him still. After he takes his pills with breakfast, it starts to get better.

"I'm starting to remember more," Harry tells his mum after breakfast, their empty plates and half-full mugs still on the table. "The photos help a lot. It's still just bits and pieces, nothing concise or cohesive."

"That's great, love," Anne smiles. "You're meeting up with Zayn today, aren't you? Are you going to see the kids too?"

Harry shrugs. "I've no idea. But I don't think so. He wanted to meet up while they are at camp. And I understand. They'd expect me to just... be as I was and I'm not." Silence takes over the room. Harry chews on his bottom lip. "Mum?"

"Yes?"

Harry clears his throat, looking down at the plate with crumbs. "Can you-" he looks up with a frustrated sigh. "Could you tell me what kind of a couple Zayn and I are? Like, how did you perceive us? What I've remembered so far it just, it doesn't help much. I've got the full picture of how we started... dating. But from right now, who we are as husbands and parents, I don't know much. I get the idea but social media doesn't really show you the fights and the problems."

"You two have a pretty ideal relationship," Anne says with a chuckle. "When you decided to get married before either of you has even finished your masters, I didn't think it would last, to be honest. I fought with you about it, tried to convince you to wait at least until you're both done with school but you wouldn't listen. Then you started talking about children and for a moment, I thought you'd gone mad. But then there was Sadie and you two were as happy as ever.

"Honestly, you call me nearly every day and talk about... everything and as far as I know, because I know only what you've told me and what I've seen myself, you and Zayn barely fight. If you do, it's usually only about something relating to the kids. Like, you wanted Sadie and Noah to go to summer camp but Zayn wanted them to just have a normal summer and only sign them up for swimming lessons. Things like that. When Sadie and Noah aren't around you, it's easy to forget that you two aren't just in the very beginnings of dating when you're just falling in love and can't get enough of each other. But then, without them, it wouldn't be you because you both adore them so much and your whole lives revolve around them. Still, you do bring them over for a night here and there when you want to go out for a date or out with your friends."

"Really?" Harry asks, a slight dumbfounded smile on his lips. "I'm actually in a happy and healthy marriage?"

Anne laughs. "Yes, you are. You and Zayn are obsessed with each other. I feared you'd be divorced by now but everything seems fine with you two."

"Do you think we could get there again?" Harry wonders, the mood shifting. "Even if I don't remember things?"

Anne cocks her head, a wistful smile on her lips. "I think that's a question for someone else."

"Right," Harry nods, his palms flat on a table. "I should start getting ready," he sighs. "I'm really nervous, mum. I don't know how to act."

"Just be yourself," Anne puts her hand on top of his. "He already loves you. You do too, even if you don't quite remember it."

"Thanks, mum," Harry smiles. He stands up and dusts off his pants. "Right. I'm going upstairs to see what I should wear. It seems like my entire wardrobe's changed. That'll be fun. Not really."

"I'm here if you need anything."

The next two hours, Harry paces around his old bedroom, trying to figure out what to wear and literally how to survive a coffee date with his own husband without dying of embarrassment. It's strange, it's very, very strange because naturally, his brain wants to go to years ago when they were just starting out and not to a week ago, when they were celebrating their 7th anniversary. It could be a first date for all his mind cares. Only it isn't.

Harry tries to divert his attention and line of thought to those memories he has regained already. Those few precious moments with their kids. Portugal. And even to those, he can't quite remember like their anniversary earlier this month. They'll be fine eventually. They have to be.

In the end, Harry puts on the only pair of jeans he found within his new clothes and it's still a light blue and flared one. He learns that there's quite a bit of colour in his new style. There's not a single piece of black clothing, save for his gym clothes, which is strange considering Harry pretty much used to live in skinny black jeans and black tees. So Harry opts for a plain white tee with the jeans. And... Vans? He's apparently the kind of a person who wears Vans now. Cool.

Even though it's been almost a week since Harry woke up in the hospital with seven years of his life missing from his memory, finding a link between himself and the way he looks now is still challenging. When he looks into a mirror, he does see himself but he doesn't at the same time. Because he's not the fresh-faced 21-year-old he remembers being. He's 28, he's been married for five years and he has two children. There are some lines on his face he doesn't recall having. His features are sharper, his hair is shorter. He doesn't get pimples anymore and he can actually grow some stubble.

His body has changed too and sometimes, Harry feels like he's been placed into someone else's meat suit. Walking up the stairs feels different. He's leaner than he was. His right wrist hurts sometimes if he puts too much strain on it. There are tattoos on his skin that weren't there before. His body has gone through all these changes in eight years that are completely normal but with the memory loss, Harry has to accept them all at the same time and not gradually like he actually did, but doesn't remember it. It's an avalanche that knocks him down every time he passes a mirror and at times, fails to recognize himself.

The doorbell rings three minutes before 12 and Harry's heartbeat starts thrumming through his entire body as if he was standing next to a massive speaker blasting hard rock. Nevertheless, his legs carry him out of his room, yelling 'I'm coming!' as he comes down the stairs. On the very last step, he freezes.

"Mum?" Harry calls out as he slowly starts walking again.

Anne pops in from the living room. "Yeah?"

"Where is my wedding ring?" Harry asks quietly. "I completely forgot about it."

"Oh, it's in my room," Anne replies. "It's on my vanity in this little bag along with the other jewellery that you had on when you were admitted to the hospital. It just slipped my mind, I'm sorry, love."

"It's okay," Harry gives her a tepid smile. "I'll go get it in a moment."

As he walks to the entryway, anxiety starts to bite at his ankles. He takes a deep breath, putting his hand on the door handle. Harry actually hasn't seen Zayn since the morning he was discharged from the hospital. They've spent pretty much every day together for the past seven years yet Harry's nervous about a fucking coffee date. The irony of it all.

"Hiya!" Harry says a bit too cheerfully when he opens the door. "Please come in, I've just forgot something upstairs. I'll be back in a pinch."

Zayn looks a little confused but he gives Harry a small smile as he walks in. "That's fine, there's no rush. How are you?"

"I'm good, yeah," Harry says a little breathlessly. "Um, I'll just go get... my thing and I'll be back."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Harry nearly groans as he flees up the stairs. He's like a bloody giraffe learning how to walk. But what else was he supposed to do other than stumble over his words when Zayn showed up on his doorstep, looking gorgeous and Harry wanted to eat him. Then he did actually remember they're married and there's no need to act like a flustered teenager. It's a bit of a feat though, when his brain often likes to think they've only just started dating. Remembering the reality requires effort and it shocks Harry how easy it is for him to forget.

He finds the bag in his mum's room right away and frowns. Sure enough, there's his wedding ring, a simple gold band but there are also a bunch of other rings, one more obnoxious than the other. In addition to the rings, there are two cross necklaces - one solid gold and another made out of jade. Hm. Without much thought, Harry slides the wedding ring onto his finger. After a beat, he picks up the two necklaces and clasps them around his neck. He wonders if they're purely just jewellery or there's a story to go along with them.

Harry stops dead in his track when he's walking down the stairs after he spots his mum hugging Zayn. He crunches a bit unconsciously, not wanting to be spotted.

"Are you really alright?" Anne asks when she pulls away, leaving her hands on Zayn's shoulders. "I know Sadie and Noah can be a handful. Do you need someone to watch them? Because Emily could-"

"No, it's honestly fine," Zayn gives her a rueful smile. "I mean, it's hard because the kids miss Haz a lot and I do too but you know, what can you do in a situation like this? Besides, Niall's always eager to watch them. He lives literally three streets away. He had them yesterday afternoon."

"That's good," Anne nods. "But don't hesitate to call me about anything, alright?"

"Of course," Zayn agrees.

A floorboard squeaks underneath Harry. Two pairs of eyes are suddenly on him.

"Ready to go?" Harry asks cheerfully as he starts descending the stairs rapidly, a too-big grin on his face.

"Yeah," Zayn replies but still gives Harry a questioning look. They're in the car within a minute and Harry fears the awkward silences that are surely about to come. But he wants to combat them. "Where are we headed?" he asks Zayn as they pull from the curb.

"Uh, it's this one place in Hampsted," Zayn replies. "We used to go there a lot the first few months we were dating. Almost every weekend. We'd go to a party the night before and then in the morning, you'd pull me out of bed and make me eat some healthy vegan crap instead of something good and greasy to fight the hangover," he chuckles. Harry's mouth quirks a little because it does ring a bell. "We don't have much time for fancy brunches these days, obviously. But I figured, as you said you remembered how we started off, you might remember this too."

"I do a little," Harry agrees. "Not too clearly but it's not completely strange to me. It has like a, French name, right?"

Zayn turns to him briefly, smiling. "Yeah, yeah it does. I'm really glad you remember at least these small bits."

"Me too," Harry fidgets with his wedding ring. He never used to wear rings on this finger, even if there was one on every single finger, but never this one. Now there's one allocated to it forever. "It's hard to explain, you know, how those memories come back. Because it's always just bits and pieces and I still can't get a clear picture of pretty much anything and it's really frustrating. But some things help. Photos, talking to people. I mean, I do have a degree in psychology, two apparently, but I never learned about memory loss extensively in uni. It was mostly just repressed memories in like, abuse victims. This is medical, while I focused on the behavioural side of things."

"You're getting at least some memories back, though," Zayn says, his eyes on the road. "Dr Carrey said it'd be worrying if you didn't start remembering at all and nothing could help you jog your memory. A little is better than nothing."

"Yeah, of course," Harry nods. "I just- it's hard because I'm trying to bridge together two parts of my life. One that I remember and one that I don't. Because like, I don't think I am right now who I was before the accident. Or am I?"

Zayn takes a long pause. He doesn't let his eyes stray from the road. For a moment, Harry fears he isn't going to reply at all. But he does. "It will always be you, Harry," Zayn says, turning his head to Harry as they come across a red light. "But no." Harry slumps slightly in disappointment. "You are still you but a week ago, the first thing you would've asked me is how are the kids and not where are we going. You would've been wearing your rings and you wouldn't have forgotten your necklaces because they wouldn't have left your neck in the first place. You probably would've already changed the radio station or plugged in your phone to play like, Joni Mitchell even though her music makes me drowsy when I'm driving."

"Oh," is all that Harry says a significant while later.

"It's just small things," Zayn says after a long silence. "Most people probably wouldn't notice. After being married to someone for six years, you pay attention to things not everyone does. We're also too co-dependent on each other, or we were. You would say that same thing."

Harry breathes shakily, peeling his back off the car seat. "What are some of these little things you like the most about me?" he tries to change the mood. Guilt, remorse, grief. Harry's sick of it.

Zayn lets out a small surprised laugh. "Really?" he looks at Harry. Shrugging, Harry just smiles and nods. "Okay, um, I really do love your positivity, even though it can drive me crazy sometimes, especially in the morning."

"That's nice," Harry remarks. "Good to know I haven't turned into a bitter arsehole."

"You used to be a bit bitter," Zayn drawls, as if he was deciding whether it's a good idea to mention it or not. "Back when we started dating. You weren't all sunshine and rainbows all the time. Sometimes you used to close yourself off and be smiling at people but as soon as no one was looking, or you thought so, you'd be frowning and have this line between your brows. And you'd be a bit nihilistic sometimes."

"When did it stop?" Harry frowns. He knows he wasn't the perfect picture of happiness back then. He used to get depressed, used to have days when nothing seemed like it mattered and he scarcely got out of bed.

"Mostly when you really started getting into the second semester of your masters," Zayn replies. "You took this one class and you started implementing changes to be more positive and you stopped suppressing feelings. But a real shift was after Sadie. Like, we were young but we really wanted to have kids regardless. And with her coming into our lives, I guess we both just became happier. You were impacted by it more, I guess and you started regretting not doing child psychology in uni. So now you mainly work with people in their late teens and young adults."

"Oh," Harry perks up. "I did remember that! That bit about working with young people."

Zayn smiles at him encouragingly. "Thing number two is how sneakily funny you are. You're not like Niall, who just entertains the entire party without abandon. But you make me laugh every single day, with your quips and your made-up songs and also your dirty mind you've been keeping a secret from the kids. It's really special to me when you make the kids laugh with shitty jokes and silly games and dances. I could watch it all day, honestly."

Harry feels his eyes getting wet. He clears his throat. "Knock knock?"

The corner of Zayn's lips quirks up. "Who's there?"

"Boo," Harry says, his throat tight.

Zayn breathes in. "Boo who?"

"Don't cry, it's only a knock-knock joke," Harry gets out as a tear escapes his left eye. He turns his head quickly, wiping his face. He tries to laugh, and Zayn tries to join him but it's a miserable mix of chuckles because they're both painfully aware of all that is at stake here. Harry barely remembers their family. They're acting like they're little more than strangers and it's fucking agonizing because Harry has a ring on his hand that once upon a time, Zayn gave to him with the mutual promise of eternal love and support and that's what they both signed up for. They didn't want to be torn apart by a dismal fucking situation like this. They're trying not to be but it's scary, it is, and it's hard because neither of them knows if Harry will get his memories back, if he becomes the father and husband he was just a short while ago. Not having a clue what the future holds for them, not knowing whether their kids will have both their parents again is fucking terrifying. Since regaining some memories, it's even harder for Harry because he knows he loves his children. He does. But he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to return to them.

"You tell Sadie that joke every time she's crying," Zayn says after a while. Harry turns to look at him, his eyes wide. "Do I?"

"Yeah, you do," Zayn smiles a little. Harry sags against the seat. "I do," he whispers. His mind makes the link between the memory he'd remembered of taking care of Sadie's scraped knee just this month. He told her that joke then too.

Harry begins to recognize their surroundings, seeing that they're pretty close to the café. Thankfully. A heavy cloud of grief sits atop them. Even without saying it out loud, they're both grieving for the life that was taken from them.

Zayn parks the car almost right in front of the café and they silently get out. Harry walks into the café first and despite Zayn saying they haven't been there in years, he would swear he's been there less than a month ago. The smell of pastries is familiar but Harry notices some changes in the decor. There are new light fixtures, as well as seating on the windows. One wall now has wallpaper.

"Where should we sit?" Harry stops a few steps into the café, turning back to Zayn. His breath hitches when Zayn puts his hand on his hip and moves him out of the way of a server coming through. Harry's flooded by the memories that have come to him recently. Things mostly from their beginnings, of sleepless nights full of sex and that playful teasing in public, a kiss here and a bite there.

"Wherever you want, I don't have a preference," Zayn says then, pulling Harry out of his daydreaming. God, it would be fucking embarrassing if Harry got a hard-on in the middle of a café from this. His jeans would do nothing to hide it.

Harry leads them to the most secluded table he can spot. He doesn't need strangers eavesdropping on their conversation and hear how Harry's trying to piece his life back together memory by memory. Just as they get seated, a server approaches them and they each other a Cappucino and a triple chocolate cookie. 

"So," Harry clears his throat, resisting fiddling with the small vase in the middle of the table. It's off-centre. And he's anxious. "How are the kids, really?"

"I'll just say it as it is, they miss you a lot," Zayn sighs softly. "Sadie's asking about swimming all the time and Noah sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night asking for you. But apart from that, they're really good. Noah's learning new words constantly, Sadie's certainly on her way to becoming like, a Nobel prize laureate or a world leader. They're both brilliant."

Harry nods, avoiding Zayn's gaze. He might have a feeling Zayn's doing the same thing. "I think I miss them too, you know," Harry divulges. "I remember new things each day and it's getting better. I still have trouble with like, identifying myself as their dad? It sounds strange, I know. But I still know I love them," Harry dares to lift his head up. He finds Zayn watching him, worry at the corners of his lips. "When I look at photos of them, I can feel something pulling at my chest, at my heart. I'm trying to remember more and more, to be their daddy again. It's just... hard."

"I can't imagine what must be going through your head," Zayn says, shaking his head slightly.

"Well," Harry chuckles nervously. "It's a mess, more often than not. I can't picture what you must be thinking."

Zayn sighs, laying his arms out on the table. "It's like a nightmare I keep waiting to wake up from. But it never ends. This is real."

"I'm sorry," Harry says quietly, his eyes flitting from place to place.

"Haz, you need to stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault," Zayn says concisely. "It happened and we just have to deal with it. There's no other way."

Harry breathes in, wanting to say something. Nothing quite comes out. He's saved by the server who brings them their coffees and cookies. What an ex-machina.

"Can I ask you some things?" Harry manages to question after a moment. He doesn't have any appetite.

"Of course," Zayn replies, plunging the spoon into his coffee. "Anything, babe."

Here it is, babe again. Harry tries not to get his hopes up. "Um, I think going about it chronologically is the best way so, like, what happened with us after that first summer?"

"We moved in together," Zayn replies and takes a sip of his coffee. He licks his lips and Harry's heart skips a beat. He did marry one very gorgeous man, didn't he? "Our leases we up so we figured finding something together would be for the best. I lived with Niall and Liam, and Niall went to do his masters in Dublin, Liam didn't continue with uni so he couldn't have student housing anymore. We didn't end up getting student housing actually, we got our own flat. It was tiny but it was ours and it was just us, no roommates. Then I guess our relationship just really escalated, thanks to our living together. As Niall likes to say, we fell madly in love and the rest was history."

Harry smiles wistfully. He can only remember bits and pieces of this. He needs to pull up some photos later. "Who proposed?"

Zayn laughs. "No one, kind of."

"What?" Harry frowns.

"The idea of getting married first came up around my birthday, a little over two months before we actually got married," Zayn explains. "Your grand idea for a birthday present was using your naked body as a sushi plater. You got it from Sex and the City." Harry goes red. This does sound like him. Curiously, he suddenly remembers the nasty feeling of having raw fish on his cock. Never again. "You got us some Japanese liquor and we got pissed and in your drunken stupor, you were like 'I was your birthday gift but it was pretty anticlimactic. How about my hand in marriage?'. You literally said hand in marriage. After I stopped laughing at that, I said yeah, why not? Then it came up again a few days later when we were both sober and I guess we just went with it."

"Niall was right, we were psychos," Harry laughs. "I assume the topic of kids came about in a very similar way?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Zayn grins. "We were at the National Gallery one weekend, around Christmas I think, sitting in front of those two paintings with like, medieval kitchens on them. And then this toddler was running around and she nearly slammed her head into the wooden bench but you caught her and gave her to her mum. Then you just kind of looked at me and I knew you had one of your batshit ideas because you had this mirth in your eyes. So you looked at me and you just went 'I kinda want one of those'. So guess who came about in November the next year?"

Harry grins from ear to ear. "Sadie."

"Sadie," Zayn nods, a smile tugging at his lips. "It's hard to say no to you."

"You can't tell me you didn't want kids too," Harry chuckles.

"I did, yeah," Zayn agrees. "But it was a bit out of place hearing you say that while we were still in uni."

"We weren't in uni in November," Harry argues. "Besides, we were married."

"That we were," Zayn nods once. "D'you know why you always wear those cross necklaces?"

Harry frowns. "No. No, I have no clue, actually. I used to wear this silver cross, had it for ages. But I don't remember these two. Today, I just saw them and put them on without thinking."

"Yeah, your old cross was really tarnished and the chain broke," Zayn explains. "It was around the time Sadie came around and I was thinking about getting a tattoo for her. So I did, it's on my ribs and then I got you that gold cross. It was for Christmas too. Look at the back of it."

Harry takes the necklace and flips it around. There's an S engraved on the back. Harry swallows.

"And then after Noah, I got you the jade one," Zayn continues. "Same thing with the engraving."

True to Zayn's words, an N is engraved into the stone. Harry clutches the crosses in his hand, suddenly blinking away tears. He can't focus on anything.

"When did I get the tattoos then?" Harry wonders. He assumed it was with each kid.

"When Noah turned one," Zayn says. "You got them both at the same time."

"God, I hate this," Harry groans. He covers his face with his hands. His coffee and cookie still remain untouched. "It's like, my life's gone," his voice comes out muffled. "It's all gone."

A couple of moments later, Harry feels a warm hand on his, clutching it gently and pulling it away from his face. "Hey," Zayn says, his voice low. "It's not gone. Nothing's gone as long as I'm here, as long as Sadie and Noah are here. As long as you're here trying to remember."

"Zayn..." Harry breathes in sharply. "What if I never remember enough?"

Zayn slowly drops his hand from Harry's, his eyes turned away. "We don't have to worry about that right now, we're not in that situation," his gaze meets Harry's. "It's been scarcely a week. How about- would you mind showing me like, what things you've remembered? I can help you fill in the gaps."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Harry says quickly, patting his pockets for his phone.

"Shit, I forgot to bring you your journals." Harry looks up at Zayn, confused. "Your personal and work journals. The work one is basically a rundown of your patients that you bring home with you. The first one is just like, ticket stubs and polaroids with a little caption. I'll bring them to you next time we see each other."

Harry wants to argue, that they should go and pick them up afterwards. Not because he necessarily wants the journals but he wants to see their house. Maybe he'll come in, see the space they've occupied for however many years and he'll magically remember anything. He'll be the dad and the husband again, the successful therapist who actually saves his patients lives and not the frazzled 21-year-old falling in love.

But he doesn't. "Okay, yeah, thanks," Harry says and pulls out his phone. "So, um, Instagram was the best so far."

The air between them clears up a bit as they both lean over the table to look at photos at Harry's phone. A genuine smile lights up Zayn's face as he talks about their kids and their experiences together and it's a wonder to watch. Harry laughs at the stories, sometimes has the urge to cry but he feels the strongest about just snatching this incredible life back. He wants to remember kisses by the sunsets in Portugal without being prompted. He wants to know that Sadie stepped on a sea urchin there withing being told so. He wants to remember their 7th anniversary past the blurry images of them making love with the balcony door open and having ravioli for dinner. It's really fucking difficult but it also warms Harry's heart, knowing that all this really happened and whether or not he remembers it, his life and the people around him were affected by it and it brought him to this amazing place where he has a loving husband and two amazing kids.

The coffee date ends when Zayn looks at his watch and says 'Shit.'.

"What?" Harry wonders.

"I need to pick the kids up from summer camp," Zayn sighs. "We should go, I really don't want to hear Sadie nag all day about me being late to pick them up. She really gets that from you, you know?" Zayn stands up and pulls out a 20£, leaving it underneath his coffee cup. "Anyway, I have to drop you off at your mum's first."

Harry then gets an idea. An ambitious one. "Can I, um," Harry stands up and nearly trips over his flared jeans. What the hell was wrong with his skinnies that he started wearing these? "Can I come with you?"

"To pick the kids up?" Zayn stares at him with his brows his on his forehead.

Harry clears his throat. "Yeah. I mean, I haven't seen Sadie since the hospital. And I haven't seen Noah since before the accident. I just- I'd like to see them."

Zayn presses his lips together. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Harry pushes. They've started walking out of the café. Zayn's the one going first this time. "They're my children too, Zayn."

"God, Haz, I know they are," Zayn scoffs. He holds the door open for Harry before walking away, Harry thanking him quickly. "I'm not trying to keep you away from them but I'm worried that they'll overwhelm you. Or they'll get upset after you won't remember something and suddenly there'd be a toddler and a four-year-old throwing tantrums. I'm just trying to avoid a nasty fucking situation, babe."

Harry lets out a noise. "That's bound to happen either way. Or am I just supposed to stay away from them forever? What if this helps me remember them better than anything else?"

Zayn's silent as they look at each other over the roof of the car, both on their own side door. "Fine," Zayn relents and opens his door. "But please, if they ask you anything too specific, just change the topic." He gets into the car and Harry follows his suit. "I've given them the whole talk, about how daddy was hurt and forgot a lot of things so I'm really hoping Sadie will get it. She did well on the phone call. But Noah's two and he has his own toddler language that you most likely won't understand. So just... be careful."

Harry bites his lip. "Have you told them I forgot them?"

"What?" Zayn frowns at him. They're on the road already. "No, fuck, I'm not a monster. I'd never tell our children one of their parents forgot they existed. Noah wouldn't understand but Sadie would and that'd surely fuck her up."

"Okay, I just asked," Harry puts his hands up. "Is the camp far?"

"No, it's actually just a few streets away," Zayn says. "They go to the park every day."

Silence stuffs the car up with unease.

"I'm sorry, Haz," Zayn sighs after a while. "I'm just worried about them. I'm also worried about you. I don't want you to like, have a bad reaction to something they do and it'd fuck your memory up even more."

"It's okay," Harry says softly. He considers putting his hand on Zayn's knee but decides against it. "I would've done the same if I were in your shoes. I just- I just wanna see my babies."

"I know," Zayn smiles a bit sadly, momentarily looking away from the road. "They wanna see you too. After that phone call, Sadie wouldn't shut up about you and all the things you're gonna do once you're back."

"Such as?" Harry inquires. "I've obviously caught onto swimming."

Zayn laughs. "Yeah. And she wants to try yoga. She'd seen you do it and begged you to join but you wanted to find something kid-friendly first. Then she wants to do your nails together. She hates how chipped her nails are but she says only you can do her nails in the right away. Then she wants to bake something."

"Looks like I'm gonna be pretty busy once I'm back," Harry chuckles. It's dangerous territory, assuming that he will be anytime soon. His heart wants to but his head with two psychology degrees is telling him something else.

"Yep," Zayn agrees. "You'll have to do it all with Noah clinging onto you because he won't let you put him down once you're back."

"Really?" Harry grins. He has vague memories of carrying Noah around. Most of the moments with Noah he's remembered so far, he was carrying him in a way. On his hip on the beach in Portugal and at home. In his arms with Noah as a baby. On his back like a cape, with Noah giggling up a riot into his ear.

"Yeah, he loves when you hold him," Zayn says. For some reason, Harry feels like they're getting closer to the summer camp. Perhaps his memory is having a bright moment. "When he was a baby, you could barely put him down or he'd start crying. You literally got carpal tunnel on your right wrist that's still bothering you today." So that's where the pain in his wrist is from. "You were really against those cribs like Snoo and those chairs that rock the baby on their own. But when you could barely write because of your wrist, I just bought a chair like that without you knowing and thankfully, you still have a functioning wrist today. Noah loved it and then we also got Snoo and slept through the night for the first time in three months."

"Oh, wow," Harry moves his wrist around. It doesn't hurt now. "I really am stubborn, huh?"

"You're probably gonna need surgery on it one day," Zayn notes. "And we're almost there."

Harry perks up. In the distance, he can see a bunch of little kids standing around,  an adult here or there. There's one car parked where a mum is actually picking up her two boys.

"We're quite early today," Zayn comments as he parks the car. "This doesn't happen often."

When Zayn gets out of the car, Harry follows suit but he doesn't walk with him to the camp supervisor or teacher or whatever they're called. He doesn't remember the lady's name and it'd only be weird. She must've been informed about what happened and so far, Harry has been doing fine without the pitying looks of people he doesn't know.

He watches as Zayn talks to her for a moment, signs something on a clipboard, probably the register and then crouches down to Sadie and Noah, who let themselves be pulled into a hug and kissed. Harry's heartbeat accelerates as he sees them again. He expected to feel like he's seeing Noah for the first time ever but he doesn't. He's suddenly yearning to hold Noah again, to cuddle him and smell his hair. It's like he hasn't been gone at all. Seeing Sadie in the hospital has no effect either because when Harry sets his eyes on her, all he can think about is little Sadie trying to say strawberry when she was about Noah's age. They're his babies and no bloody fucking retrograde amnesia can change that.

Zayn tells something to the kids and their heads turn to Harry, their eyes wide. At lightning speed, they break away from Zayn and start running towards Harry as fast as their little legs allow them to. It's an instinct then, to squat down on the pavement and wait for Sadie and Noah to plummet into him. And they do moments later and Harry hugs them each with one arm so hard he's scared for a second he's gonna squash their little bodies but there's also the fear that if he lets go, they're gonna float away from him and the memories he's managed to scrape back along with them.

"Oh, sweethearts," Harry breathes out between kissing their heads about a million times. "I've missed you so, so much. You can't even imagine how much I've missed you," he pulls away a little when he feels them trying to wiggle away, but still, he keeps a hand on their waists, keeping them close. "How are you, darlings? How was camp?"

"It was so cool, daddy!" Sadie exclaims. "We played quidditch today!"

"Oh, really?" Harry chuckles. He didn't think his children would be into something that came out when he was a kid. "Were you flying?"

"No, we weren't," Sadie's shoulder slump and she pouts a little. "But we had pizza for lunch."

Harry gasps. "Pizza? And no vegetables?"

"There were mushrooms on it!" Sadie grins. "I was the only one who didn't pick them off."

"That's a good girl," Harry smiles. "Give daddy a kiss." Sadie complies, leaving a wet smack on his lips before breaking away and going to try and open the boot herself. Meanwhile, Noah just keeps on grinning and trying to wiggle out of Harry's grasp.

"And what about you, baby?" Harry coos at Noah as he stands up with him, propping him up on his hip. "How was my favourite boy, huh?" Noah shouts something that may or may not be 'good'. "I thought so. Did you miss daddy, honey?" Noah nods and claps his hands. "I missed you too, angel," Harry whispers into his hair after leaving another kiss there. He then goes and starts leaving multiple kisses on Noah's face, until he squeals with glee and tries to do the same to Harry, along with some light-hearted smacking that is just a package deal with a toddler. Harry hugs Noah close to his chest, rocking him a little. He smells his hair then and it's like no memories are missing from his brain at all. He closes his eyes and tries to remember how he always did it when Noah was a baby with just a sprinkling of hair. Now he has a head full of dark curls and that baby smell is gone but it's true what they say, that you could never forget or mislabel the scent of your child.

Harry expected some memories to come back but he didn't expect this overwhelming feeling. These aren't specific memories, putting the puzzle of his life together but it's something that can't be described. It's a silky duvet wrapping itself around Harry's heart and mending all the broken things that have been making him bleed with their jagged edges these past few days. He knows he's holding his child and even without having the memories to back it all up, Harry knows he loves his children more than anything in the world.

"Harry?"

Zayn's already got Sadie strapped into her car seat. There's another empty one for Noah.

Harry kisses Noah multiple times in a row before walking over to the car. "I'll strap him in."

"You remember how?" Zayn quirks an eyebrow.

"It's a car seat, how hard can it be?" Harry says bravely. A few moments later, after Zayn's already in the driver's seat, Harry re-learns just how difficult baby car seats are. He doesn't show his frustration and after a few minutes and Sadie saying, "Daddy, it's taking foreverrrrrrrrrr.", Harry gets the straps all in their place and it's nice and secure.

When he gets into the passenger's seat, Zayn's grinning at him.

"Shut up," Harry tries not to laugh as he's fastening his seat belt.

"I didn't say anything," Zayn chuckles and they start driving.

On the drive back, Harry looks into the rearview mirror a million times. He also turns around in his seat so many times his neck starts to hurt. Sadie mostly ignores him and plays on her iPad while Noah's slowly drifting off to sleep between chewing on a toy. That's a habit he should get rid of soon, Harry notes mentally.

Before he knows it, they're in front of his mum's house again and it's time to say goodbye. It's wordless, Harry getting out of the car and opening the back door to kiss Noah and then lean over to get a kiss from Sadie. "Do you really have to go, daddy?" Sadie asks. "Can you come home with us instead?"

Harry bites his cheek. "It's just for a few more days, strawberry. I'll be back soon and then we'll go swimming, we'll do our nails, we'll do yoga and we will bake something yummy, okay?"

"Okay, daddy," Sadie says, her voice sad. "I know you have to eat lots of vegetables and get healthy, like I did in winter when I had a cold."

"Exactly, sweetie," Harry smiles, but it takes an effort. "I'll see you soon, okay? Maybe I'll call dad tonight after dinner and give you goodnight."

Sadie cheers up a little. "Okay, daddy. Bye-bye until dinner."

"I love you, strawberry," Harry says, his hand already on the door.

"I love you too," but Sadie doesn't even look up from her iPad now. Right, screentime. That's a thing Harry remembers. That'll have to be tweaked.

Zayn's leaning against the fence, his arms crossed. When their eyes meet, he smiles a little. "It was good, yeah?"

"It was amazing," Harry breathes out, looking back at the car with Noah dozing off and Sadie playing games. "I just want to be back home with them."

"I know," Zayn says. "Soon, hopefully."

"Yeah," Harry lets out a deep breath. "Hopefully." He's not confident enough in his recovery to make timelines and promises. But, fuck, he just wants to grab his things and get back into the car with his children and his husband and drive back home to their house where there must be family photos on the staircase wall and the kids have their rooms. There's a bed he shares with someone he knows he loves and has loved for seven years now. A house that's filled with memories, majority of which still avoid Harry's memory but perhaps could appear again. Even if not, there are new memories to be made. More birthdays parties, more scraped knees, more family holidays. It's not hopeless.

"If you want to call like you said, Sadie's bedtime is 8.30," Zayn says. "So, I'll see you soon then?"

"Yeah," Harry nods. He wants to do something. Hug Zayn or ideally kiss him, as he's wanted to since he first saw him today. But Zayn just gives him a polite, close-lipped smile you would give a stranger you nearly ran into in the street and gets back into the car.

Harry watches the car drive away and with it, the three people he loves the most in the world.

xxx

The front door closes behind Harry and he leans against it with a sigh, closing his eyes. He's starting to understand, why he is who he is, in spite of forgetting it. Somewhere in a different part of London, there is a home that Harry yearns for. He can't quite remember its address or the layout of it. Hell, he doesn't have more than a blurry image of the bed he used to spend every night in. None of it matters, not after today. Harry just wants his family back.

"How was your date, playboy?"

Harry's suddenly alert, opening his eyes. "Gemma?" And indeed, his sister is slowly waving at him with her fingers from the doorway to the living room.

"It's so good you forgot seven years of blackmail you had on me," Gemma quips as she meets Harry in the middle of the hallway and pulls him into a hug. "I was worried sick," she says in a quieter voice. "I really couldn't get here sooner, I tried. I thought you were dead when mum first called me. Are you okay now?"

"I'm fine," Harry sighs and pulls away. He pulls her gently towards the living room. "As fine as I can be in this situation." He plops down on the couch, Gemma joining him. "I was with the kids for a bit today. They've just gone home."

Gemma doesn't retort right away. She chews on her lips, her eyes flicking over Harry's face. She's picking the right thing to say. There isn't one here. "Has it helped?"

"A little," Harry nods. He cards his fingers through his hair, pulling a little. He might grow his hair out again. "In terms of like, my memory, I didn't have an epiphany. I didn't magically regain all my memories. But... I finally felt all the love I have for them. I still don't remember much but holding Noah and Sadie again, I just- I don't remember feeling like that before. Just overpowering love. I never wanted to let them go."

Gemma smiles wistfully. "You adore them. So much. I know mum has said many times that she loves us to death but I never really took it seriously until I saw you with Sadie. She was this tiny little thing and you truly didn't care about anything else but her. I'm glad at least this came back to you."

"Yeah," Harry says. "I've just, a lot of worries. If I can be a competent father anytime soon. Because I truly don't remember things like, what they eat normally, their bedtimes, all that."

"You'll figure it out, don't worry," Gemma says. "How was Zayn?"

Harry rubs his forehead. "Uh, I don't know? We were fine, I think."

"What does that mean?" Gemma frowns. "Fine. That means a lot of things."

"He's just," Harry huffs out a breath. "A bit distant. Like I was a stranger or something. Or an acquaintance at most."

"Yeah, sounds like him," Gemma comments. "What do you remember about your marriage?"

"Not much," Harry admits shamefully. "But I remember everything from the time we started dating. So I'm really fucking confused because, at the same time, my brain is telling me that I should like, impress him with a splendid blowjob and also that he's my husband and we're supposed to be raising our two small children together. It's messy because I literally have a crush on my husband now. And he's keeping himself away from me. Like, he didn't even hug me when he was leaving."

"Give him time," Gemma shrugs. "For once in your life, wait Haz. When you decided to get married, you were the one to suggest it. Of course, Zayn was head over heels in love with you and would never say no. Just as he didn't say no when you one day were like, oh wait, I want a baby."

"Do you think he'll still want me?" Harry asks. He starts chewing on his bottom lip. "Even if I can't remember things that are important to us."

"I can't read his mind," Gemma says. A moment later, she takes a breath like she's going to speak but instead, he gets off the couch. Harry watcher her with a frown but Gemma's back right away along with a book from the bookshelf. "I think this will help you understand your marriage better than through photos and stuff." She hands the book to Harry and his jaw falls open when he sees it was written by Zayn.

"What?" Harry breathes out. "When did he write this?"

"When he did his PhD," Gemma answers. "So basically when Sadie was around a year old."

"What's it about?" Harry asks, turning the medium-sized sunflower yellow paperback in his hands.

"It's a novel," Gemma replies. "It's short stories. Most of them have a bit of your relationship in them. It's actually pretty fucking brilliant. I'm sure he's gonna tell you about it, or you'll remember, but his PhD dissertation was a bit ambitious and his advisor warned him it had a bit too much of a creative writing vibe but he pulled it off. This is the accompanying piece for it. Something about how it's better to analyze short stories by the same author as a connected anthology, like, dunno, American Horror Story, and not completely separate pieces. Of course not like the plot is connected but, I don't know, obviously I'm shit at analyzing literature."

"I wish I didn't have to do this," Harry sighs. "Learn about the relationship I have with my husband through a book he wrote. I just want to be back home. But I can't be."

"Give it a bit of time," Gemma nudges him with her elbow, smiling. "You've been remembering things, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then don't worry," she puts her hand on his knee. "You wooed the pants off Zayn once, you can do it again. Besides, you have two children you both love more than anything. Sadie and Noah connected you even more than just your relationship. Seriously, after you already had Sadie, you two became like fucking Siamese twins. I felt like you both dropped 'I' from your vocabulary because everything was just 'we, we, we'. It was sickening."

"Fine, I'll read the book," Harry smiles a little. "I'll do it tonight. Then I'm gonna dig through my iCloud and Instagram from before we had kids."

"Great plan," Gemma agrees. "Now let's go make something before mum gets back from Emily's. I'm starving. Airplane food is the worst."

Harry laughs. So Gemma hasn't changed much in the seven years that have vanished from him.

xxx

When it gets dark, Anne leaves Gemma and Harry alone downstairs, to catch up and what not. Gemma immediately sees it as an opportunity to bring out some alcohol as if they were rowdy teenagers again. Because of the medication Harry has to take after the accident, he can't drink so they make raspberry lemonade and Gemma spikes her glass with a bit of vodka. They settle down on the patio without any lights on. Evie's purring in Harry's lap as she sleeps.

"Why did I take Zayn's last name when we got married?" Harry asks her once he's tired of recounting what he remembers and what he doesn't.

"Oh ho, that one was good," Gemma laughs. "You thought it was romantic. He suggested hyphenating your names but you were adamant that you wanted to take his name. But first, you made me promise that when I get married and have kids, I'm gonna keep my last name."

"Really?" Harry furrows his brows. "Why?"

"Dunno, probably something about gender roles," Gemma shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. "I don't mind, we gotta continue the name somehow, yeah? What can I do when my baby brother is a bloody romantic who lives in a Rosamunde Pilcher novel?"

"Oh, c'mon," Harry goes to lightly kick her. Evie makes a sound in protest at the movement. "Sorry," Harry whispers to the cat and pets her. "It's kinda nice, actually."

"Changing all your uni paperwork when you were doing your masters wasn't nice," Gemma scoffs. "Everyone assumed you married like, an old rich bloke and then when they found out you married someone your age who was also a student they just thought you were mad."

"Why is love mad?" Harry exclaims. "So we got married young. We still aren't divorced and we have two children. And with as much as my fucked up brain allows me to remember, I can conclude that we don't hate each other. Well, at least we didn't. I've no clue how Zayn actually feels about me now."

Gemma rolls her eyes and Harry can see it even in the dark. "I would smack your head but I'm scared you'll get another bound of amnesia but consider this a spiritual smack."

"Noted," Harry chuckles. "I think I remember someone you dated or still date. A guy called... Luke? I think. There were some photos from a night out on my Instagram."

"Oh yeah," Gemma nods. "We're still together. It's going fine, I'd say. Certainly one of my longer relationships."

"Can I hear the wedding bells ringing?" Harry teases.

"Uh," Gemma hums and puts her drink on the table. "I'm not much into matrimony. Divorce is expensive." She yaws, rubbing her hands over her face. "If we settle down one day, that's great. If we don't, life goes on. I'm happy either way. I'm not... tethered to him. I don't think I'll ever have the kind of a relationship you and Zayn have where you'd ideally breathe the same air. I like my space, like Evie does." Gemma nods her head at Evie in Harry's lap, who's trying to slide out from underneath his hand in the weird way cats do where they appear three times longer than usual. "And I'm knackered. Long flight. So I'll be going." Gemma smacks a kiss on Harry's cheek when she stands up. "Read the book. And don't freak out, everything will be fine."

Harry's left sitting there alone in the dark then. Even Evie has abandoned him and joined the other two cats in the living room. The warm summer night is too enticing to just leave behind so Harry bites the bullet and ventures into the living room for Zayn's book. He turns on two lamps inside that will provide him with enough light to read yet keep the mosquitos and other pests away. With the paperback in hand, Harry sits on the patio two-seater with his knees drawn to his chest and begins reading.

The first stab into his heart is the dedication itself. 'To Harry and Sadie. Life is so much brighter when you live with two of the most radiant rays of sunshine.' It's enough to bring him to tears again but Harry's determined not to cry like a baby this time. So he starts reading.

There are eight short stories in total, at least that's what the content page tells him. The first one is easy enough, a seemingly short detective story with all the archetypes of the genre. That was the point of it. The next one is a funny absurd story with a talking dog. Another one is a horror set in an abandoned hotel. But it's the fourth one that makes Harry cry again.

Arguably, it's a cliché romantic story about falling in love so quickly you want to laugh at it. But Harry doesn't laugh, he's constantly on the verge of tears because he can see his own relationship within it. He could in each and every one of them. A little piece that felt familiar, that so desperately tried to find a link in Harry's dilapidated memory. The love is jumping up at him from the pages and Harry just wants to hide.

And Gemma was right. Harry hasn't even finished the book yet the picture's being repainted in his mind with every passing minute. The way Zayn uses words, how all the depictions of love in the book are somehow connected to their relationship. Being presented with the fact that Harry's experienced the love that most think exists only in art is baffling. He can't even remember much of it but having the knowledge that Harry married someone, who on his own is brilliant and breathtaking, that loves him so fucking much makes him want to believe that everything will be fine in the end. Because a love like this can't go away, can it?

As Harry reads the last lines of the fourth story and it eludes to the protagonists of the story having a baby girl, his initial amelioration and respite in the heartbreak is gone because Harry realizes he forgot to call Sadie. He fucking promised Sadie he would call her before her bedtime and he didn't. He was having a grand bloody time with Gemma and his mum and he forgot about his daughter, his little girl that can't wait for him to be back home. And Harry knows then he's not coming back anytime soon. Now he forgot to call her but what if he comes home and forgets to fucking feed her? Or forgets her somewhere?

He doesn't even muster up the strength to cry. Hollow, defeated, that's how Harry feels. He was trying so fucking hard to get better. And he thought he did. He did! Sadie and Noah were so happy to see him today and the feeling of holding them was unlike anything Harry's experienced in the 21 years of his life he remembers well. He loves them, he does. But everything he's learned since they came into his life is gone. It took time to learn how to be a father and only a second was needed to make it all vanish.

Harry takes a deep, shaky breath and pulls out his phone. It's late so obviously, he can't talk to Sadie now. But perhaps he can talk to Zayn at least. He needs to apologize. That is the bare minimum he can do.

'I'm so sorry for not calling tonight," Harry texts him. 'Gemma came back and we were catching up and it completely slipped my mind. I can call her in the morning?'

He doesn't really expect a reply. If the roles were reversed, Harry probably would've already been swearing up a storm and throwing a fit. How fucking hard is it to remember to make one bloody phone call? But the reply comes nearly instantly, the speech bubbles popping up on iMessage before Harry even exists the app.

'It's okay, she went to bed earlier than usual today. She was knackered after camp so you wouldn't have talked to her either way.'

Harry wonders if he should be relived because he definitely isn't. He forgot. That's it.

'Okay but still. I promised I would. At least we could've talked.'

'We're talking now, aren't we? :)'

Oh? Is that sarcastic? Harry's at a loss but he needs to keep Zayn talking. He just fucking wants to talk to his husband.

'I guess, yeah :)' A moment later, Harry thinks, fuck it, and double texts. 'I was reading your book tonight. Got through the first four stories.'

'Really? How did you get to it?'

'Gemma gave it to me. She said it would help me understand our relationship.'

'And did it?'

Harry sighs. Did it? Probably, yes. But it doesn't mean shit if Harry keeps fucking up and there is no actual progress in his recovery.

'I think so. All the... love aspects? (I guess) were inspired by us, weren't they? Some things connected.'

'Yeah. It was subconscious too. I just couldn't get you off my mind anytime I were to think about romance in any capacity.'

'That's romantic :)' Wow, bravo Harry, that's incredible flirting.

'You thought so back then too :) I thought I was obnoxious.'

'Maybe obnoxiously fit and amazing.' Okay, better now. 'I'd like to see you again soon. Today was really good.'

'Yeah, of course. Sadie was really happy. She already picked the nail polish she wants you to use on her nails when you get back.' Before Harry can reply, Zayn's writing again. 'I think Paul misses you too. Today he was just wandering around the house meowing after the kids went to bed. Now he's sleeping on your pillow.'

Harry laughs quietly. 'I really need to get back then haha'

'Whenever you feel like you could handle it, we're all ready for you to come back home.'

Harry closes his eyes. He lets the phone fall on the seat underneath him before he rubs his face. He's not ready yet. Not if he wants to come back as Sadie and Noah's dad and not a fumbling mess. He can't risk it.

'I was wary about how the kids would handle everything.' Zayn texts him. 'But they're doing really good. I mean you're the therapist, I don't know what possible effect this situation could have on them so it's really your call. Just as a parent, I think the kids just want you to be back home no matter what.'

Harry wipes up the dampness underneath his right eye with the tips of his fingers. Yeah, he's the therapist but now he needs therapy. Loads of it probably.

'I'm really glad to hear that. But I don't think I'm there just yet. I love them so much, I do. But I can't risk fucking this up.'

'That's okay. I do understand.'

'Thank you. You have no idea how much this all means to me.'

'You would've done the same babe.'

'Probably. But still. Thank you.'

xxx

Zayn never texted back last night after that and Harry's not sure if it was the awkward tone of the conversation or he just fell asleep. Regardless of that, Harry just didn't have the stomach to continue with the book so he found himself reading something else instead, upstairs in his old bedroom - his masters' thesis.

It was pretty long and Harry probably shouldn't have strained his eyes and brain by staying up late finishing it but something good came out of it. He remembered most of it, not specifically writing it but as he was reading it, it all made sense and it felt familiar. Even more curiously, he usually knew what was coming up and also knew what the conclusion would be. Harry's not sure if it's because his brain usually thinks he's just finished his bachelor degree and knows a thing or two about psychology or if he actually did remember. Given that, he still doesn't particularly care because this brings him a step closer to being able to practise again and go back to work.

In the morning, Harry decides to call his receptionist, Freddie and ask about a therapist for himself. He's been told, as well as remembered bits and pieces, that he works at sort of a clinic that has psychologists and other mental health professionals for various needs. Harry himself is a part of the group that deals with people in their late teens and early 20's. Freddie directs him to Dr Brown, who has her office in a different building than the one Harry has his office in and apparently, they don't know each other so it won't be awkward. Since they are technically colleagues, Harry calls her right away and schedules an appointment that's about in a week and a half. He briefly outlined whatever's been happening and that he does have a specialist at the hospital he will have to see a few times and she didn't deem it dire enough to have him come in immediately since he's been able to regain memories and things are still coming back to him steadily. That's good, Harry supposes.

Niall calls him around midday and they talk for maybe an hour. He makes Harry laugh like always and tells him some bits and pieces about those long seven years Harry will never remember fully again. Most likely. After that chat with Niall, Harry feels encouraged enough to finally text back to his "new" friends more than a thank you for their concern. But he's not confident enough to call them. Most people prefer texts anyway in this day and age. He talks to Sarah and Adam for a bit and with the few memories Harry does have, it's pretty easy to keep the conversation fluid enough.

He spends the majority of the day finishing Zayn's book, effectively torturing himself with it and going through photos in his phone and on Instagram from before they had Sadie and Noah. Harry wants to remember why they fell in love as deeply and strongly as they did. He's trying to dissect his relationship, essentially. And soon, he will ask Zayn about it too but every time Harry asked something regarding just them, their marriage, it was as if he had a hammer in his hand and was shattering the trust and love between them with every word. He can't let that happen.

Between all that, he manages to call Zayn and arrange an outing to the park with Sadie and Noah for tomorrow. Sadie's distracted by Paul and doesn't talk to him for too long, and Noah just squeals for two minutes and that's a conversation alright. Harry feels like a stranger when the call ends, like an outsider trying to peep into a loving family. All in due time, he tells himself, all in due time.

Harry's already treacherous brain betrays him again that night. What else could Harry possibly need right now but a wet dream about his bloody husband? It's probably a memory but Harry can't be sure and he may or may not be too embarrassed to ever ask Zayn about it. The dream was all passion and deep kisses and uncut desperation. Intense and hot, with Zayn fucking him from behind, the sound of the bed hitting the wall ringing in his ears.

Unsurprisingly, Harry wakes up hard and panting, his wet cock trapped inside his boxers like a prisoner of war. He glances at the clock on the nightstand, seeing that Zayn is coming to pick him up in less than two hours to go out with the kids. Is this a good time to wank? He decides against it.

So, a cold shower, wasn't it? That's what Harry recalls as the trick for getting rid of a hard-on. But when he gets into the bathroom, the idea of a freezing fucking shower makes Harry want to run away into the mild heat outside. He does get into the shower somewhat determined not to wank. But he's only a human and his red, angry cock begging to be noticed is very hard to ignore. So Harry wraps a hand around himself, closing his eyes and trying to recall all those nights from their beginnings. If he's going to wank to his husband, he might as well be sure he's wanking to a memory and not a fucking dream. He's not 14 anymore, even if he's back at his mum's house and trying to be as quiet as possible.

It's good, it's so fucking good even if he wishes his own hand was Zayn's. Harry doesn't really know when they last had sex but he remembers fucking on their trip to the coast without the kids so it hasn't been that long. He doesn't know how often do they normally have sex, if it's planned or not, if they have the time to be spontaneous with two little kids in the house.

Harry comes embarrassingly quickly because the mere idea of kissing Zayn again is making him hot and bothered like it's his first time and he's gonna cream his pants five minutes into snogging. Since Harry's accident, they've scarcely touched. After the coffee "date", Zayn didn't even hug him. Therefore, it's safe to say Harry is desperate for anything. He would probably cream his pants if Zayn kissed him. He'd definitely at least get hard.

His mind is clearer and less sex-oriented by the time Zayn comes to pick him up with the kids. But Harry's wardrobe made him struggle once again. He ended up with the same jeans, Vans but this time a striped t-shirt with some buttons in the front completed his look. And it's not so terrible this time. Vans are much better for summer than the boots he used to wear all year round.

Harry's waiting for Zayn and the kids outside, squinting into the sun because the only pair of sunglasses he could find in his room were some cheap plastic ones probably from a magazine. As soon as the car pulls to the curb, Harry heads for the back door.

"Hiya, angels," Harry greets the kids, kissing Sadie who's on his side and ruffling Noah's hair. "Hi, babe." When his eyes meet Zayn's, Zayn seems mildly amused and definitely surprised at the pet name. But Harry's determined to try today. He wants his family back and he doesn't want to disappoint them or ruin everything. Baby steps. That's the key to success.

"Hi, love," Zayn says. "You're in a good mood today."

"Had a good morning," Harry grins as he gets into the passenger seat. "I was excited to see you all."

Zayn eyes him suspiciously. "You look like you're plotting something."

"I'm not," Harry shrugs as he watches Zayn drive. "Where are we headed?"

"This nice park not far from here," Zayn replies. "The kids always come here if they're staying with your mum for the night."

"Oh, is it the one where I used to go as a kid?" Harry wonders.

"Nope," Zayn shakes his head a little. "This one is new, there's like a fancy playground there and a gourmet dessert shop. Bit pretentious if you ask me but this is London and it's actually nice."

Harry hums. "Hold on," he turns to the kids because the silence from them is questionable. Noah's flipping through a picture book with those thick pages and Sadie's on her iPad again. "Sadie, darling, how much time do you spend on that iPad of yours?"

Sadie looks up at Harry. "Not too much," and then she's back in the electronic world.

"I'm probably gonna sound really stupid," Harry turns to Zayn. "But doesn't she have like, allotted screentime or something?"

"She does," Zayn agrees and smiles at Harry. "It's usually only for the car. She gets antsy."

Harry blushes a little. "Oh, okay. I didn't know. I've lately only spent time with her in the car and she was always on it, not even looking up."

"It's fine, babe," Zayn dismisses it. "You read books with her at home normally, or you used to. She really likes them and asks for them herself. But for like, flights and car rides, the iPad's great because she really doesn't like travelling. She doesn't get sick or anything, just really antsy and a bit anxious. You installed some like, educational games for her, alongside just genuine time-killers so she's not straining her eyes for nothing."

Harry doesn't say anything to it. Just reminds him how fucking useless as a parent he is. The shame about the morning hits him then as well. Marriage isn't only about fucking and he should write that on his fucking forehead. Just because he's attracted to his husband doesn't mean he deserves to have him back. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose. This is a fucking mess.

"Are you okay?"

Harry opens his eyes, putting on a weak smile for Zayn. "Yeah, course. Just thinking."

"Don't beat yourself up, Haz-"

"Dad, we're here!"

"Oh, shit," Zayn curses quietly and nearly stops the car. "I almost missed the park. Thank you, Sadie. What would I ever do without you?"

"You wouldn't go to the park," Sadie replies like the smart girl she is. Harry smiles sadly. He helped raise her to be this brilliant, intelligent, kind little girl yet he barely remembers anything from it. And it fucking hurts.

Harry helps Zayn take the stuff from the boot of the car. It's only a blanket, a picnic basket and a diaper bag for Noah but Harry's exhausted from being so useless. The least he can do is set up a bloody picnic he didn't even prepare.

They settle down underneath a tree not too far from the playground yet far enough that they will hear each other speak over the excited screams and squeals of children. Harry's a bit out of place, standing at the edge of the blanket, watching his own family to figure out what to do next. Before it gets weird, he sits down and waits while the kids chatter in their own worlds and languages.

"What, um," Harry starts, his brows furrowed. "What do we do here usually?"

"Just normal stuff," Zayn shrugs as he hands Noah a few toys from the diaper bag. "They play at the playground. We read to them. You create all these games for them. When they're off playing, you often read. But Sadie really likes to dance, don't you baby?"

Sadie nods enthusiastically. "I do ballet, daddy. I'm sooo good. Can I show you?"

"Of course, strawberry," Harry smiles at her. At least her nickname always comes to him easily.

"Can you play me some music, daddy?" Sadie asks as she stands up and takes her teeny tiny Converse off. Harry looks at Zayn in a mild panic but Zayn just smiles and says, "There's a playlist." And indeed, when Harry opens the Music app on his phone, he finds a playlist titled 'Sadie's dance music'. He hits shuffle and some strange music you'd heard in the background of a dance competition starts playing. It's probably what they use at classes because this is far from the classical music you'd actually perform a ballet to.

Sadie starts off with something that looks like a routine, describing which move is which. Harry encourages her, tells her how well she's doing and 'wow's where it seems appropriate. After a while, Sadie starts just jumping around to the music and eventually she pulls Noah up to join her. Harry starts laughing at the sight, his chest going warm as he watched Sadie hold Noah's hands and attempt to get him to dance. Noah, at his all two years of age, mostly giggles and wiggles around. His sheer joy, the laughter of the kids, it's music to Harry's ears and he can't believe he has to miss this. They're so happy and Harry's so overwhelmed by love for them he can barely see anything past Sadie and Noah. It's just them in the whole world and nothing else.

After a while, Sadie lets go off Noah and takes a courtsey. Harry and Zayn clap and cheer on her like she just graduated from Julliard. "I'm thirsty," she announces and walks the few steps to the picnic blanket. Without thinking, Harry grabs a juice box for her from the picnic basket. Sadie takes it and plops down in Harry's lap, sipping on the straw right away.

"You were so good, baby," Harry gushes and kisses Sadie's hair. He hugs her with both arms and Sadie rests her head against his chest. Noah stops dancing too and promptly plops down on the blanket. He grabs a dino figurine and starts chewing on it between actually playing with it.

"Thank you, daddy," Sadie says. "I'm gonna be in a bigger group in September. I'm starting school. Did you know I'm gonna be five in November?"

Harry swallows thickly. It's depressing that his daughter is talking to him the way she would to a stranger, or someone who didn't know everything about her life. And Harry should know it, he fucking should. "I did know that, strawberry. You're a big girl, aren't you?"

"Mhm," Sadie nods, the straw between her lips. "But you said I'm gonna be the youngest at school. My birthday is in November so everyone will be five but I will be four in September."

"There's nothing wrong with that, is it?" Harry asks her, brushing her hair out of your face. "Dad and I just want you to be even smarter than you already are, darling. You will learn so many things and have so many new friends. I think it's gonna be exciting. Don't you?"

"I guess," Sadie shrugs while biting the straw. She then chucks the empty box on the blanket. "Can I go play now?"

Harry looks over at Zayn, who has been playing with Noah and his dinos in the meantime. "Of course you can but you have to wave at us every few minutes, okay?" Zayn says. Sadie nods enthusiastically and off she goes running towards the playground.

"I brought you your journals," Zayn says once Sadie has safely arrived at the playground a couple of meters away. She's still in their line of sight and there's plenty of parents around so Harry figures he shouldn't freak out.

"Really?" Harry's interest has perked up. "Can I see them?"

"Sure, they're in the diaper bag," Zayn says as lets Noah climb into his lap. Noah promptly starts pulling at his hair but it doesn't seem to bother him.

Harry takes the journals out. They're two nearly identical brown leather-bound journals. But he immediately knows which one is which. The personal one is more tattered and has some writing on the spine, while the work one is nice and neat, showing almost no signs of wear.

Noah makes a noise then and Harry lists his head, alerted by the sound of distress. "He's sleepy," Zayn offers as an explanation. He puts Noah on the blanket to lay down like he did when he stopped dancing but now he puts a folded up sweater, presumably Sadie's, underneath his head as a pillow. "He barely slept through the night. He's been a horrible sleeper lately."

Harry only nods. He guesses this most likely has something to do with the fact that he isn't home. Sadie's older so she understands it more but Noah can't possibly get why his daddy isn't there to put him to bed and come to him if he cries at night. Harry simply isn't there and that is all that Noah understands.

Harry clears his throat. "What's all this about then?" he asks as he opens the personal journal. The last entry is from when they presumably got back from the coast. There's one polaroid of Zayn smoking on the balcony, only his naked back visible. "You still smoke?" Harry wonders. He could swear he remembered that Zayn stopped after they had kids.

Zayn chuckles. He's closer to Harry now, so close he can feel his body heat. "No, not cigarettes. We smoke weed together sometimes. It's only on rare occasions now."

"Oh," Harry lets out a small laugh. "Look at us, being all rebellious and shit."

"Very, very rare occasions, Haz," Zayn laughs. "But we do drink quite a bit of wine. I live in fear that one day I'll come home and you've bought one of those god-awful signs about wine that those middle-aged mums on Facebook are obsessed with. Or you know, those water bottles that say some crap like 'I'd rather be drinking prosecco'."

Harry shakes his head, laughing. "God, I would never. I promise you my brain's all kinds of screwed up right now but I'll never be one of those people."

"Thank god, because otherwise, I'd have to fake my death and flee the country," Zayn chuckles. "You wanna know which my favourite one is?" he nods at the journal.

"Of course," Harry says eagerly, showing the journal into Zayn's hand. He waits as Zayn flips through the pages, watching him. Zayn is quite slow with it, looking over the pages, smiling at some pictures and tickets and whatnot. Harry's heart tugs and he wants to ask a million questions, or a billion, as much questions as it would take for him to get back to his previous self, at least superficially so he can get his life back, so he can be a good father again, so he can fall asleep at night with his husband at his side.

"This one," Zayn says after a while, handing the journal back over to Harry. It ends up being a polaroid of Harry himself, laughing while covering his face with his hands. His hair is still long in the photo, splayed against a white pillow. He's shirtless, or more likely naked, and there is only one ring on his fingers - his wedding ring. When Harry looks at the date, it starts to make more sense. "This is our wedding night," Harry breathes out. He starts reading the entry: 'Today I married the love of my life and I have zero regrets, even if the love of my life is an annoying little shit who keeps kissing my shoulder as I'm trying to write this. I don't think it's possible to describe how happy I am. We've got shit for doing this because I guess this is what happens when you get married at 22. But today has been the best day of my life so far. I'm sure that's going to change as our life goes on and on and on and even better things happen. We'll have more happy memories. We'll have kids. Omg!! We'll have kids one day. Crazy how things just happen. Like, boom, we said a few things, signed a couple of papers and now we are legally bound to each other. It feels fucking awesome tho. I don't like to put photos of just myself in here but Z took this and I think it's a good representation of how fucking happy we are right now. I've no clue when we're gonna look at this again and who else will read this but I can say with a clear conscience that I've never been happier. So here's to many more years of happiness, love and really good sex!'.

A tear drops on the shiny surface of the polaroid. Harry doesn't lift his head up, doesn't wipe the salty tears away. He remembers bits and pieces. Shaky hands sliding rings on. Messy kisses with their teeth clashing because they couldn't stop smiling. The sound of a camera going off and warm laughter. Tenderness and passion and promises of forever meant only for the two of them to hear. Is forever still a viable option?

"Haz," Zayn says softly. His hand is warm, low on Harry's back. If his heart wasn't breaking, Harry would tremble with anticipation. "Haz, please, look at me." Harry reluctantly lifts his head. He doesn't bother to wipe his face. "What I wanted to say in the car," Zayn continues, "is that you need to stop beating yourself up for things that aren't your fault. You didn't go out and ask for your memory to be gone. It's not your fault, babe. And yes, it's really fucking hard, with you being gone and not remembering a lot of things but you can't punish yourself for this."

Harry shakes his head. "Everything's ruined, Z. I'm as good as dead."

"Hey, don't fucking say that, H," Zayn says fiercely. His hand is a burning stone on Harry's back, a fiery poker that goes straight through his heart. "I was scared you were dead when the cops had first called me. The car had been totalled and you were in the hospital, unconscious. You've no idea how that felt. So don't you dare say that because you are here. You're here and you're healthy and you're trying. It's gonna take time, yes, it's gonna take some sleepless nights of Noah crying and Sadie asking about doing your nails fifty times a day. But you're still alive, Harry and that's what matters to me."

Harry sniffs, finally brushing away the tears. "Thank you, Zayn. You truly have no idea-" How much I love you. But Harry doesn't say it out loud. He can't allow himself to love Zayn like that again until he's certain he can come back and be a dad again. Their marriage is so interwoven with parenthood that he can't be a husband without being a father. And as much he loves Sadie and Noah, he's not there yet. But he will be. He won't let this take his family away. "You truly have no idea how fucking incredible you are."

Zayn smiles a little, his arm now snaking around Harry's waist. "I've been told a few times."

And Harry really, really wants to kiss Zayn then. Because he's not sure how long it's been but it has certainly been too long and his heart is aching for it. It goes against all the plans he's sketched out in his head but he doesn't even care because he loves Zayn. He knows he does and while there's a lot missing, he also remembers enough things to know that even after seven years, they're still head over heels in love. And he might just do it. So easy, it'd be so easy to simply lean forward and-

"Daddy, I need to pee."

Harry's taken out of the passion-induced trance by Sadie's voice. Zayn's hand drops from his waist quicker than a pile of ash.

"Um," Harry frowns. "Dad will take you, strawberry," he looks over at Zayn hopefully because he has no fucking clue where the restrooms here are. Thankfully, Zayn nods at him and promptly gets up.

"Haz, get the food ready, yeah?" Zayn adds before he leaves with Sadie. Harry wants to do something funny that would hopefully make Sadie laugh, like salute him but he's left nodding dumbly like a child.

"Right," Harry says to himself and reaches for the picnic basket. There's some cut-up fruit and sandwiches, juice boxes and water. And napkins, cutlery. He takes it all out, opening up the Tupperware boxes and getting the juice boxes ready. A bee comes buzzing in, hanging around Noah's sleeping form a little too long for Harry's liking so he swooshes it away with his hand.

He goes to open his journal again and flip through it before Zayn and Sadie return when he hears that sound of distress from Noah again. The journal's promptly abandoned as Harry turns his attention to Noah, who's waking up slowly and certainly starting to cry.

"Daddy," Noah cries miserably, his eyes barely open. Harry's immediately knee-walking to him around the food. "Hey, baby, it's okay. Daddy's here," Noah looks at him with tearful eyes and reaches out for him. Harry quickly takes him into his arms, holding him against his chest and rocking him. "It's okay, sweetheart. Daddy's here, you don't have to cry, angel." Noah sniffs a little, still crying as he tucks his face into Harry's neck. His hand ends up in Harry's hair soon, at the nape of his neck. Harry grabs Noah's other hand and kisses it a bunch of times. "I love you, darling, it's okay. You don't have to cry. I'm right here, honey. I'm right here." Noah's tears are wet on the skin of Harry's neck. He keeps rocking him and shushing him. Eventually, Harry starts humming a tune, he's not even sure what it is but it seems to calm Noah down. He continues rocking him as Noah's cries die out slowly.

"Is that better, honey?" Harry asks him, looking at Noah's tear-stained face. "Do you want a snack, Noah? Hm? Do you want some blueberries?"

Noah's pouting a little. He rubs his eyes with his little fist. "Love daddy."

Harry's heart shatters. He hugs Noah as tight as he can. "Oh, I love you too, Noah. I love you so, so much. You're such a sweet boy, do you know that?" Noah wraps his short arms around Harry's neck and kisses his face wetly. Harry laughs and it's a miracle he hasn't broken down in tears yet. "Thank you, Noah, that's so kind of you." Harry kisses Noah then too and Noah giggles and screams in joy and Harry's eardrums might be suffering but Noah's not crying anymore and that's the only thing he cares about.

"Someone's up."

Harry looks up at Zayn and Sadie, a smile on his face. "Yeah, No-No woke up and got a little snotty, didn't he?" he blindly searches the diaper bag for tissues as Sadie and Zayn sit down on the blanket. First, he gently wipes Noah's face, both the tears and the snot. Then he puts the tissue on Noah's nose and tells him to blow. Noah does dutifully and Harry wipes his nose properly. "There, that's better, isn't it, love?" As he goes to throw the tissue onto the little pile of trash, he notices Zayn watching him with a soft smile. "What?" Harry asks him, chuckling a little. "Did Noah get snot on my face?"

Zayn just shakes his head, the smile not leaving his lips. "No, you're fine."

"C'mon, tell me," Harry demands. "What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing is wrong, babe," Zayn says, putting his hand on Harry's knee for a moment, squeezing him. "Everything's more than fine." That has to be a lie, considering that their lives have been turned upside down but Harry doesn't have the time to overthink.

"Daddy, I want cuddles too," Sadie pouts.

"Of course, strawberry," Harry says. "But we'll have a snack first, yeah? You must be hungry after such an incredible dance number and playing too."

Sadie shrugs and scoots closer towards the food. "Okay. But I want my cuddles. It's not fair if only Noah gets cuddles from you, daddy."

"I promise, baby," Harry says. Noah whines a little and outstretches his arm towards the food. Harry engages his other hand to hold him too so he doesn't topple out of his hold. "What do you want, Noah? Juice?" Noah shakes his head and says 'bubelies'. That in toddler talk must mean blueberries. Harry grabs the container with blueberries and holds them up in front of Noah. "Blueberries?" Noah screams a yes and immediately makes grabby hands for the berries. The moment he grabs them, the mess of purple begins and Harry mentally checks for the wet wipes that are certainly in the diaper bag. He forgot how messy toddlers are but Noah's so happy eating the blueberries himself that Harry doesn't have the heart to start feeding him just to keep things tidy and clean. He's a baby, babies are messy.

They all snack on some things with Sadie mostly keeping the conversation going, talking about camp and about all the things he's excited for in school. Harry feels a bit proud that his daughter is so enthusiastic about school when it's still only the middle of summer. Education is one of the most important and also amazing things a parent can help their child get. Her hunger for it only makes Harry happy and he hopes it will stay with her for a long time.

"Okay, daddy, I want cuddles," Sadie says immediately when she's done with her food. 

Harry chuckles. "Of course, strawberry. We haven't had many cuddles lately, have we?" As he goes to put Noah down on the blanket, the beginnings of a good, big cry are underway. "Noah, baby, I'm still right here, okay?" But Noah doesn't care and he whimpers, holding onto Harry's shirt.

"Noah, stop being a baby," Sadie pouts and crosses her arms. "You're not the only one who can get cuddles from daddy."

"Alright, you're too young to be fighting, Jesus Christ," Harry scoffs as he juggles Noah in his arms so he has one arm free. "Both of you can have cuddles. Daddy has two arms after all."

Sadie doesn't need to be told twice to climb into Harry's lap and he's very much swarmed in small children. Zayn grins at him, shaking his head after Harry blows a strand of hair off his forehead (mildly successfully) and Noah nearly falls out of his grasp. Harry tries to keep his smile at bay, mouthing a 'what?' at Zayn. There's too much Harry's missing and he's painfully aware of it. Inside jokes, the kids' quirks, the inner workings of their marriage. Harry simply doesn't know a thing about any of it and he might never remember. But when he has his two babies wrapped around him, happy because they're finally with their daddy again, Harry begins to believe that it truly doesn't matter.

After a few minutes, Sadie grows tired of cuddles and engages them all in a game of technically Activity. She stands in front of them, doing a pantomime of all kinds of animals and Harry and Zayn have to guess. She's tough with the point system too. Noah doesn't care about what his sister is doing, not really, and interests himself with Harry's necklaces instead, pulling on them and even trying to bite them.

A few hours later, after a lunch of crepes with too many toppings and another dance session, Harry finds himself in front of his mum's house again. The kids are asleep in the back in their car seats.

"Thank you for today," Harry turns to Zayn. "Really. I know it's hard, juggling two small kids and basically our whole life. Today was... incredible and I'm sorry for taking too long but I just- I don't think I'd be good for them just yet. I had no clue what they were doing today. Sadie's dancing and her games, I didn't know a thing. I can't risk it."

Zayn smiles a little before it disappears, just this slight quirk of the corners of his lips. "You were really great with Noah today."

Harry shakes his head. "I just held him and gave him a Tupperware with blueberries."

"It's not just that," Zayn disagrees. "He woke up and started crying and asking for you, didn't he?" Harry nods slowly. "You consoled him and then you cleaned him up. You even remembered his nickname, No-No, just out of nowhere. Watching you tell him to blow his nose and wiping his face was really like this little flash of you before the accident. You just automatically took care of him, without a second thought, without giving me that anguished look, asking what to do next."

Harry tries to breathe in but his throat closes up on him. He doesn't know what to say to this because he doesn't perceive it that way. So he wiped his son's snot? That's literally bare minimum of childcare. Kids need emotional development too and Harry's at a -867 with that.

"Don't lose your mind thinking about this," Zayn's voice breaks Harry out of his thinking. Harry's heart becomes a wrung towel when his mind registers that Zayn is holding his hand. With a shuddering breath, Harry squeezes Zayn's hand like a lifeline. "It's a good thing, Haz. You're doing well."

Harry nods quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I've a... I'm seeing Dr Carrey in like two days. So I guess I'll go from there?"

"That's good, yeah," Zayn smiles a little. "Text me later today? Or call Sadie if you'd like. If it's been too much on you today, you don't have to."

"No, no," Harry shakes his head. "Of course I will. You're my family. You can never be too much."

Zayn chuckles. "Oh trust me, these two can be too much." Zayn takes his hand out of Harry's grasp slowly. Harry tries not to let the disappointment in his chest take over. "So I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry smiles quickly. "I'll call you."

"Good," Zayn says and then does something that nearly makes Harry faint. He puts his right hand on Harry's jaw ever so gently and turns his head, kissing his cheek. It's chaste and fleeting but that doesn't matter to Harry's heart that's beating like a church bell at midday.

"Bye, Haz," Zayn says when he's pulled away. Harry's so shocked he doesn't even register if he says anything, probably just a weak 'bye' but when he comes to his senses, he's already standing on the pavement in front of his mum's house with the car speeding away.

To assess the situation, Harry didn't cream his pants like a 14-year-old. But he did get a semi.