Not Alone

By: Riley

Summary – -Companion piece to 'Guess Who's Back'-. Tom was always worrying about something; whether it be his music, his tour, his family, or his friends, he was worrying. Who knew he wasn't the only one with that problem. Being in a new place and working on a new album forces Tom to deal with something he kept secret. Something he thought left him utterly alone. *Those who have read my old Just My Luck stories will recognize the characters in it*

It wasn't that Tom Fletcher didn't like parties or nightclubs or hanging out. It wasn't that he wasn't particularly comfortable around people who were having a good time. It was that he wasn't able to be completely comfortable in his own skin for long periods of time.

That's how he found himself in the bathroom of the nightclub while his friends were all outside getting to know each other again. He had seen the way that Harry and Jacqui had been able to fall back into their old routine, lightly flirting with each other though and having a good time while they danced. How were they able to do that? Even Danny and Rhuben and Dougie and Riley had a bit of awkwardness when they first met up with each other, but that was to be expected. Danny had a habit of making light of things and Dougie had a habit of curling in on himself and dwelling, which didn't help either.

And he was the one that went and hid in a bathroom.

He needed some time to himself, to collect his thoughts and to keep all of his anxieties at bay. There was the new album they had to work on, all of the music they needed to make to be sure this album was better than the last, that it was something the fans were going to enjoy, something they were going to enjoy themselves. They were in a different country where he wasn't sure what the fan base was like and the idea of having to start all over was more than he could bear.

Shaking his head, Tom leaned over, resting his hands on the edge of the tiny bathroom sink. His hands shook, fingertips tapping against the Formica sink in a steady beat. Sighing, Tom lifted a hand from the sink and turned on the water, allowing it to warm, pooling and running down the drain in swirls and circles. Cupping his hands under the water, Tom splashed it over his face a couple times then stood up straight, watching his reflection.

Droplets ran down his cheeks, from his forehead, over his nose and lips. His reflection showed him a guy that was…stuck in a nightclub bathroom. His eyes were dark, there didn't appear to be any mirth in his face, and his hands couldn't stop shaking. Turning from the mirror he started to pace back and forth in the bathroom, alternately running his hands through his hair, making it poke up in many different directions. With each step of his right foot he took in a deep breath, each step of his left he let it out.

In. Out. In. Out.

Finally he felt his nerves ease off, his heart beat slow down, his palms dry. His breathing didn't come out like horror monster gasps and he felt that he could finally be normal around everyone out there and have a good time. Of course the other lads were going to bust his balls about it, they always did. They poked and prodded and made fun of him going off to the bathroom to be by himself almost every time he was around company. So often he got that remark about the words biggest poo or being constipated or wanting to get tips from Cosmopolitan so he could step up his game with girls. Most often he could let it roll off his shoulders, other times it was irritating how they just didn't understand.

Tom sucked in and released another deep breath then took hold of the doorknob, opening the door and leaving the bathroom. A small line of men waiting glared at him as he appeared in the doorway. Tom lowered his gaze and speed walked by them offering a muttered, "Cheers," as he went. He was so focused on being inconspicuous that when he lifted his head to find his friends—not surprised to find the Jacksons and Jacqui all on the dance floor—that when he turned he hadn't noticed Gen moving by him and crashed into her, causing her to spill the drinks she held in both hands out onto their shoes.

"I'm sorry!" Tom immediately apologized, reaching out his hands and placing them on her shoulders to steady her. "I didn't see you there."

"It's alright," Gen replied. She followed Tom's anxious gaze down to her feet and laughed. "They're old anyway," she reassured him then took a step back, holding up the drinks. "And last I checked the boys aren't particular with how much they can drink as long as they can do it." She laughed to herself, turning back to the bar to order another round.

"I got it," Tom said. He moved up next to her, taking out his wallet. "What did you get?"

"Tom, we're paying for you guys, tonight, remember?" Gen reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

"I know." Tom swallowed thickly, feeling his anxiety come back. He flipped through the Australian bills he held, it being the first thing he had done when they had touched down in the country. Of course he had gotten flack for that too, but he was the one that was laughing when he refused to pay for the taxi to get some food for their house. It pays to be prepared. "But I just ruined your shoes, so at least let me get something."

"A coke would be nice," Gen replied.

"You're not drinking?"

"None of us do really, just a few every now and then. It's you guys that are really into it. Besides, I said, I'd be the designated driver just in case," Gen replied. She then gave him a smarmy smile. "Doesn't mean I don't know how to live on the edge."

Tom's eyebrows rose. "Are you calling me out?"

"Well, you were the one that was just in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes," Gen pointed out. Leaning back a little, her brown hair dusted against her shoulders as she did so, hazel eyes moving from his face to the back of the nightclub. "And I think those guys looking like they're about to piss their pants doesn't help your case either."

Tom laughed along with her, feeling his face flush. Instead of replying, he turned back to the bar, noticing the bartender was waiting for his order. "Uh, I'd like a coke and…two long islands, please." The bartender nodded and moved to make the order. Tom turned back to Gen, who was now leaning against the bar and gently pulling her high heels off, shaking the excess liquid out of them. He felt his stomach clench, wondering if she really was fine about the destruction of them. "I'll pay to have them cleaned," he offered.

"Don't worry about it, Tom. I already told you they're old," Gen replied. She raised her eyes and smiled, her eyes dancing as if she held a secret. "Anyway, they're Jacqui's so if you need to pay someone, it's going to be her."

"I may as well pay for dinner then," Tom responded. "God knows she'd say I was flirting with her."

"You know Jacqui, she flirts with every guy," Gen reminded him. At the same time, the two turned to watch their friends dance. Harry, Danny, and Dougie had now joined them and while they weren't the best dancers on the planet—none of them tried to claim that title—they did look like they were having fun. Tom felt his smile wane; he wished he could be as outgoing as they were when it came to being around a lot of people. "You know, you really need to relax sometimes."

Tom turned back to Gen, who was now perched up onto a bar stool, legs crossed at the knee. Tom's eyes moved from the tip of her bare foot up her leg to where the fabric of her dress covered her thigh. He cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn't get caught and moved onto the seat next to her. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the bar top, leaning forward a little. "What makes you think I'm not relaxed?"

"You look like you're really not comfortable," Gen pointed out. "Or that you don't really want to be here."

"Clubs aren't really my thing," Tom admitted after a minute.

"I noticed." Gen sat up and took the glass of coke that was placed in front of her. Lifting it to her lips, she took a long sip as Tom took the long island ice teas. He took a couple of bills out of his wallet and tossed them onto the table. "You always have fun when you go out, but I've noticed you're always running off to be by yourself at some point." She shook her head. "You're not the only one that does that." She crossed her legs the other way and turned to him, her knee bumping his legs. "It's the anxiety," She said, matter-of-fact. "I get claustrophobic sometimes, so I can't be around large groups of people all the time. I always need to have some time for myself…to collect my thoughts and to calm down." She waved a hand. "And you know how hard that can be when I'm around them. They're always so rambunctious." She then held out her hand. "Don't get me wrong, I love them to death, but all of that noise can be daunting sometimes."

"I know exactly what you mean," Tom agreed. He slapped his thigh. "The lads are always making fun of me about it, and I know they're not serious, but it's so hard sometimes. I get…really anxious and I just need time to clear my head." He gave a peaceful smile as Gen nodded. He remembered how they had always gotten along so well. Her personality was different from the others girls; she was definitely a lot calmer, but didn't allow herself to be taken advantage of. She always had a way of nipping arguments and moments of tension in the bud before it got to the point of no return. "I didn't think that'd be something you'd be going through, honestly."

"What do you mean?" Gen's eyebrows furrowed together, frowning slightly.

"I mean…" Tom licked his lips. "You always seem so put together." He rubbed his forehead, giving himself a chance to collect his thoughts before continuing. "Like nothing ever bothers you. I don't know, I guess it seems like life is so easy for you."

"Right." Gen rolled her eyes. "Going to school and working full time is really easy and not stressful at all." She reached up, scratching behind her ear. "I'm sorry, that sounded really rude. But it does prove that you can't judge someone based on how they are on the outside." She pointed directly at him. "No one would think you had anxiety, you've always been the most outspoken one in the band."

"That's because I don't want the guys to do something that would potentially embarrass us," Tom replied.

Gen's eyebrow rose even higher as the seconds passed. "You really think they'd do something to embarrass you? By now I think they know how to act when it comes to interviews and when they're with their mates." She stood up, taking her glass of soda. "See what I mean? You need to relax." She held her hand out to Tom. "And I'm going to help you."

"Really?" Tom took the long island ice teas in his hand and turned. Gen stepped up to his side, slipping her hand through his arm, clutching his elbow. The two carefully moved through the enthusiastic dancing of the club goers around them. They giggled to themselves, moving out of the way of a flying arm, hand, or head of hair, trying not to spill any more onto their feet. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"I have my ways, Thomas Fletcher," Gen replied firmly. They reached the table that their friends had coveted and placed their drinks down. Tom moved to sit, but Gen tightened her hand on his arm. "And the first one is by getting you to dance."

"I don't dance," Tom said quickly, waving his hands. He wasn't lying. He tried his hardest not to do it, simply because he always felt extremely awkward when doing so. His body never moved the way he wanted to and he was painfully aware of everyone looking at him.

"Now you do," Gen insisted. She pulled Tom out onto the dance floor—truth be told, he wasn't trying that hard to resist—and grabbed onto his hands, placing her fingers between his as she started to move to the beat of the music. Tom bobbed back and forth for a couple of seconds before starting to get into it as well.

Sure he was awkward.

Sure it wasn't the greatest dancing anyone had ever seen, but at least he was having fun.

Gen was right, he needed to relax more. Tom extended his arm and spun Gen around in a circle a couple of times before pulling her back to him. She let out an appreciative laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder as they moved together.

He just needed to relax more.

THE END

A/N: Geez, I finally got this one-shot done months after the last one. *Rolls eyes* Sorry about that.

The idea of this came from the Unsaid Things McFly autobiography. When Rhu and I first read it we freaked out with how much we enjoyed it and the things we didn't know about the boys. And Tom's moments of anxiety as well as his bipolar disorder I thought was something that could be expanded upon a bit.

Anyway, now that the McBusted tour has started I'm thinking of doing a McBusted/DarkElements JML fic. It'd basically be the same vein as the ones I used to write anyway, so it should be fun. Either that or I continue with these one-shots as a story as well as doing the McBusted/DE fic.

Either way, you all will see something from me soon. Thanks for welcoming us back with open arms.

My sister and I own the Jacksons and Ronan, Genneh owns Gen, and lessthanthreedougie owns Jacqui.

Cheers,

-Riles