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Chapter Text

He absolutely hated it when they breathed down his neck. He hated it; it gave him goosebumps. And often they thought it was a sign of pleasure. Which was totally dumb, because he couldn’t remember the last time he felt real pleasure. Most of the time it was just uncomfortable, but he could blend it out. Sometimes it hurt. And sometimes it hurt really badly. So badly, it was all he could focus on, until he went to a numb place in the depth of his mind.  

Today, it was uncomfortable, bordering on painful. The customer paid double to rough him up a little and so he lay there pliantly on his stomach, just taking the harsh treatment. He also endured his warm breath in his neck. He endured it, but he hated it with every cell of his body.  

“God, wanna fuck you up so bad! Wanna destroy that little hole of yours!”, the man pounding into him muttered, gripping Harry’s throat tightly.  

Alarm bells started to chime in his ears. It was never good when a punter started to choke him. Often they didn’t know what they where doing, simply cutting off his airway. Right now, Harry was still able to breathe, but that could change any second now. But before he could say or do something, the customer let go of his throat and pulled on his hair, bending his head so far backwards, he could see his face.  

“Turn around.”, he demanded, letting go of Harry’s long locks. One last very rough thrust, that pushed a startled noise out of Harry’s mouth and then the punter drew back completely.  He pushed himself up on slightly shaking arms, turning around. Unsure of what was expected of him, he remained on his knees, facing his customer. 

The man was in his forties, with an average face and an average body. What was absolutely not average was his proclivity for roughing up young men. He was obviously married, according to the fat gold ring on his hand and Harry bet it was to a woman. By now he could tell if a man was using him to live out their  dirty little secret.  

The punter, who introduced himself as Thomas, had a mad glint in his eye. Harry’s stomach cramped with fear and rightly so, because a second later he felt a palm colliding with his left cheek. Wham. And then, when Thomas didn’t get the desired reaction, he used his fist.  

The punch targeted Harry’s jaw perfectly, sending him flying to the side onto the massive bed. A pained groan left Harry’s lips, but otherwise he didn’t move. He just lay there, waiting for an instruction or another hit. He learned the hard way that it was better to stay down, when they started to hit you. Also, he wasn’t sure if he could even stand up immediately, because the hit had been really well placed and his jaw hurt like a bitch.  

“Hands and knees, now!”, Thomas bellowed and Harry followed the instruction obediently, even though he felt like throwing up. Maybe he had a concussion?  

He heard Thomas spit and something warm hit his backside. Then there was a finger, pushing the spit down to his abused hole. Maybe he should feel grateful that Thomas gave him that tiny bit of lubrication, because the lube he used earlier to open himself up before the job, was completely gone by now. So, maybe he should feel grateful, but honestly, it disgusted him. Nobody wanted a random strangers spit on their body, or in it.  

He didn’t have any more time to think about that topic, because the customer used four of his fingers to push the spit into him.  

Harry hissed and let his head hang between his shoulders, praying that he wouldn’t tear, when Thomas started to roughly pump them. “Look at that greedy hole, almost swallowing my whole hand! Bet I could stuff my whole fist in there, couldn’t I?”  

Oh please, no. The last time someone did that, he had to go to the A&E and after that he got a proper beating for going to the A&E.  

“Please…”, Harry whispered, hoping for a shred of mercy.  

“Please what? Are you begging for more, little slut?”  

“Please… don’t.”  

There was a second of absolute silence. 

“What?” Thomas voice was colder than dry ice and it send a shiver of fear through Harry’s body. If he pissed him off too much, he could harm him really badly.  

“P-please... don’t st-stop.”, he stammered, praying that it would be over soon.  

“You can bet your arse on that.” With that, Thomas pushed his hand deeper into Harry. It hurt.  

After an excruciating minute, there was a whole fist inside of him, pushing too deep too fast.  

“Arghhhh.”, Harry sobbed, biting down on the pillow he clung to.  

“Oh yeah. I can feel you cramping. God that’s so hot.” 

Harry couldn’t possibly tell what was hot about tearing his arse open, but he long learned to not try and understand those men.  

Every step hurt. He knew he was bleeding and he probably already bled through his jeans. He had a decision to make. Either he went home, hoping that the bleeding would stop by itself and that the tear wasn’t so bad. Or he went to the A&E to get help, risking Simon finding out and getting a punishment.  

But Harry knew he had to get stitches, so he could heal faster. He didn’t have the luxury of taking time off. Simon wouldn’t allow it.  

So the A&E and then probably a beating it was.  

The nearest hospital was a ten minute walk away and Harry gritted his teeth and started walking, clinging to his money that he had stuffed down his front pocket. It was late and even though he was a man and relatively tall, no one was really safe on the streets and he couldn’t dare to show up empty handed at home.  

After an excruciating long walk, he arrived at the A&E, limping inside to the front desk.  

A woman in colourful scrubs was typing on a keyboard, looking up with tired eyes when Harry approached.  

He tried his best to tone down the limping, but he was in to much pain and he saw the woman's eyes flicker over him, obviously noticing it. 

She stood up as he reached the counter. “Good morning, how can I help you?”  

Morning? A quick look on the clock on the wall revealed that it was a quarter past four. Okay, yeah, morning. 

“Morning.”, he took a tiny step forward and held onto the counter to keep his body from swaying. “Uhm, I need to see a doctor please.”  

“Sure, you came to the right place for that. Are you hurt?”, she inquired, picking up a clipboard and a pen. 

“Yes.”  

Her eyebrows rose at his clipped answer. “Okay, were you in an accident, or…?”  

Harry lost his patience, looking her dead in the eye. “Can I please just see a doctor? I'm tired and I'm in pain and I'm bleeding. So please, can you just assign me a room, so we can get it over with?”  

Her lips became very thin, but she held back the comeback she obviously had on the tip of her tongue and simply nodded. “Yes, if you would follow me, Sir.”  

He sighed, already regretting snapping at her and followed her to room number 2.  

Once inside, she pointed at the stretcher inside and handed over the clipboard, along with a pen. “Here, you can sit down and fill this out.”  

“I'd rather stand, thank you.”, muttered Harry, averting his eyes and took the clipboard.  

“Uhm… Okay. The doctor will be with you soon.”  

“Thanks.” He could hear how she left and only then, he allowed himself to crumble a bit. With a pained groan he put his elbows on the stretcher in the hope to take some pressure of his lower extremities. Then he picked up the pen with shaky fingers and started to fill out the familiar form. Of course he couldn’t use his real name, but he had a fake one he could use.  

When he was done, it was another five minutes, until the doctor waltzed in.  

Wow.  

He was young, maybe in his early thirties and impossibly handsome. What was most striking, were his stunning blue eyes, that had a few crinkles around them, as the man smiled brightly a Harry.  

“Good morning, Mr…?”, he started, holding out his hand for the clipboard.  

Harry heaved himself up with a hiss and handed it over. “Uhm. Harry. You can call me Harry.”  

The doctor looked down at the form, obviously looking for Harry’s name. The form said that his name was Harold Smith, so Harry could still use his real name without raising too much eyebrows.  

“Okay, Harry, then you can call me Louis.”, the doctor smiled. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s wrong? You look a bit pale around the nose.”  

“Uhm, can I stand please? Sitting is not… uhm… I want to stand, please.” 

“Of course, if that is more comfortable for you. So I can assume the problem is in that area? Apart from the bruise on your chin?”  

Louis didn’t seem bothered by Harry’s request at all, still exuding a calm cheeriness. 

“Uhm, yes. I'm bleeding… from my, uhm, bum.” Again he kept his eyes low, feeling massively ashamed even though this wasn’t the first time he went to the doctor with that particular problem and it wasn’t his fault.  

“Oh, okay.” Now Louis sounded a little bit less cheery. “Did that problem occur suddenly, without a particular reason?” He checked the clipboard again, probably looking for Harry’s medical history. Tough luck, because Harry didn’t provide any information. 

“No, there is a reason.”, Harry answered, letting his head hang, so his hair hung over his face and hid his burning cheeks somewhat. 

“Alright. Any chronic illness that could cause such a problem?” 

“No.” 

Harry could practically feel Louis stare, when he kept answering so tersely.  

“Any problems with your digestive system lately?” 

“No.” 

The doctor sighed. 

“Are you bleeding from the inside or the outside?” Maybe Louis finally caught up to the fact that Harry didn’t come in here, because he had the shits. 

“Probably the outside.”  

 “Okay, I think I need to have a look. Do you feel comfortable with just me in the room or do you want me to call in a chaperone?”  

“Alone is fine.” He didn’t need another person witnessing this. It was embarrassing enough as it was.  

“Alright, Harry. Could you please take off your trousers and lie down on the stretcher? On your side, so it won’t hurt.” The young doctors voice was soft now, probably in an attempt to make Harry feel more at ease.  

“Okay.” He took off his jeans along with his pants, putting them on a chair in the corner. He lost his modesty long ago when it came to nakedness and even though he still felt ashamed to his very core, it wasn’t because he was walking around the room half naked. There was a hospital gown lying on the counter and he took it, putting it on. He struggled a bit to get up on the stretcher, without putting any pressure on his bum, but with a helping hand from Louis, he lay on his side in the end.  

“Okay, pull up your knees, please.”, the doctor instructed, while he took some gloves and put them on. Then he walked around Harry, to come to a halt behind him.  

“Oh.”, Lewis made, apparently surprised or shocked by what he was seeing. “That’s a lot of blood.”  

“I know.”  

“I need to ask this now, because this looks really bad. You’re bruised all over. Harry, were you forced?”  

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. “No.”  

“No? This was consensual?” Louis sounded like he didn’t believe a word.  

“I wasn’t forced.”  

“Harry… you don’t have to be ashamed. It happens to men, too. You can be honest with me.”  

“I wasn’t raped. It… I-uh… There is nothing to report.”  

There was a moment of silence and then there was an audible sigh. “Okay. Just know you can tell me. I’ll start the examination now. Tell me if it hurts too much.”  

Harry balled his hands into fists. “Okay.”  

He felt how Louis gently examined the bleeding area, using gauze to soak up the blood. It hurt like a bitch. 

“There are 3- No, 4 fissures. Hmm, I think I need to stitch two of them.” 

“Can't you stitch all of them?”  

“The others will heal on their own with time and proper treatment, they’re small enough.”  

“N-no, uhm, can you please stitch them all?” Harry's heart started to beat a little faster in fear. He didn’t have time to wait for his ass to heal on its own. Simon would force him to work either way and Harry would rather have an arse that wasn’t ripping apart every two minutes.  

“Uhm… okay. I don’t want to cross any lines here, Harry, but-“ Now Louis walked around the stretcher, to stand in front of his patient. “-are you sure there is nothing to report? Because if there is, it is vital to document the injuries before they get treated.”  

The young curly haired man, turned his face away in shame, not able to meet Louis eyes. “I’m sure. Could you please patch me up? I kind of have to be somewhere.”  

Harry counted the seconds of the silence after his answer and it took a whole 12 seconds, before Louis sighed in defeat. “I will patch you up right away. But I have to check for internal injuries. There could be some, am I guessing that right?”  

“I suppose.”, Harry nodded, still avoiding to look up at his doctor. 

“Okay. I'll do that as quick as possible. I’ll give you local anaesthesia beforehand, to make it easier.”  

Harry knew the drill, so he expected Louis to tell him that, but he wasn’t exactly elated about the fact that there would be something else up his bum in a few moments. “Okay.”  

Harry watched as Louis started to prepare a tray with several things, including the dreaded anascope.  

“Normally, we only use numbing gel for an anascopy, but I think that won’t suffice in your case. Are you on any medication or do you have any allergies?”  

“Uhm, no. I mean I get hay fever sometimes, but that’s it.”  He decided it was begtter not to tell the doctor that he did drugs ocassionally. 

“Alright.”, Louis said, his eyes crinkling the tiniest bit with the tiniest hint of a smile. If Harry was a normal 20 year old, he'd probably have a major crush on that man. But he wasn’t. Sometimes he wondered if he even still possessed the ability to fall in love.  

Then, everything was prepared, Louis wheeled the tray around, behind the stretcher and Harry heard how he put on new gloves. 

“Okay, I’ll inject the local anaesthetic now. It shouldn’t take long for it to work and you shouldn’t feel the syringe all too much.”, the doctor explained, before he started to wipe the area of Harry’s anus with a disinfectant. Shit that burned like hell! He hissed and pressed his eyes closed. 

“Sorry! I’ll be done in a jiffy.”, Louis said, his voice full of compassion.  

“It’s okay.”, pressed Harry out. 

“Needle now.”, the older man warned, but Harry could barely feel it over the pain of his wounds.  

“Aaaand done. It should numb the area quite quickly.”  

“Thank you.”, mumbled Harry, wishing that Louis would also give him something to numb the rest of him.  

“While we wait, what happened to your face? Jaw feeling okay? Any headaches or nausea?”  

“I fell... and I think my head is fine.” He couldn’t afford to loose any more time with other unnecessary examinations.  

“Do you mind if I check your eyes real quick?” Louis obviously wouldn’t let it go so easily, so Harry agreed. 

He did the thing with the little flashlight, where he shone it into Harry’s eyes and asked him to stare at his finger.  

“Unusual colour you have there.”, Louis commented, but before Harry could even come up with an answer to that, the doctor stated that it didn’t look like he had a concussion.  

That was good; one less problem.  

After that was settled, Louis returned to his position behind Harry.  

“Okay. Do you still feel that?”  

Oh. Harry didn’t even realise that a major part of his pain ebbed away in the last two minutes.  

“I can feel that you’re touching it, but it doesn’t hurt.” He still hurt on the inside, but it was so relieving to not feel the tears on the outside.  

“Okay. Then we're ready to go ahead. Please pull up your knees a bit further. Yes like that, good. Uhm, I’m going to do a quick check of your prostate before hand. Are you comfortable with that?”  

Harry was not at all comfortable, but he trusted the doctor so far that he wasn’t doing it out of sinister motives. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, try to relax. I’ll be quick.”  

Harry could feel the gloves finger at his entrance, but there luckily was no pain. Then Louis pushed his finger in, expertly feeling for Harry’s prostate. As soon as it was touched, the younger man whimpered from the unease he felt.  

A few seconds later, Louis drew back gently, disposing of his gloves and putting on new ones.  

“It seems to be quite swollen. Do you experience any difficulty to have a wee?”  

“Not tried it since... I haven’t tried yet.” Harry knew that he probably would have some difficulties, since he experienced this problem before, but he wasn’t inclined to tell the doctor this much. This would mean revealing that this wasn’t the first time experiencing... an unpleasant encounter. 

He heard Louis sigh. “Alright, definitely look out for that. If you have problems and it doesn’t go away, seek out a doctor immediately.” Then the doctor cleared his throat and said: “Alright. Let’s get this over with, there was a bit of blood on my glove, but it could come from the external fissures. Are you ready?” 

Harry simply nodded.   

 “You should feel some pressure now... Okay, who am I kidding, this will be uncomfortable, but I’ll be as quick as I can, okay?” The way this doctor talked, made him seem really human. Most of the doctors Harry met until now, were either cold and way too professional, or obviously deemed handling a case like Harry beneath them. But Louis... there was no judgement, only something that seemed like honest concern.  

He was ripped out of his thoughts, when there was a blunt object pressed to his hole.  

“Deep breath and try to relax, please.”  

Harry knew what to do, to make it hurt less, so he took a calming, deep breath and consciously relaxed his muscles. “Okay.”, Harry breathed, giving the doctor the permission to go ahead.  

The thing used for the examination – Harry forgot it’s name – was obviously lubed up and entered easily. Still, for a few seconds, Harry cramped up, an involuntary yelp leaving his lips.  

“I’m sorry. Deep breaths, I’ll be as quick as I can.” 

Right. Breathing. Great advise, because Harry struggled a bit on that front. He wasn’t quite able to answer, so he just quickly nodded, trying to concentrate on deep breaths and relaxing again. Louis remained silent during the exam, probably focussing on the task to be as fast as possible.  

He could feel how the doctor slowly retracted the thing and after a few agonising moments, it was finally over.  

“All done.”, Louis stated, his tone sounding a bit strained. “I’m stitching you up now.” 

“Okay... uhm, am I okay? Inside?”, the young man inquired timidly.  

Louis sighed before he answered. “There is one small fissure inside, but it seems you were lucky. A lot of scar tissue though. That’s not the first time you were hurt.” It wasn’t even a question. But instead of disgust, there was nothing but a sad gentleness in the doctor’s voice.  

“No.”, Harry whispered, knowing it was futile to deny it. 

There was a period of quietness, only interrupted by the doings of Louis, preparing to stitch Harry together.  

“Did he wear a condom?”, the doctor eventually asked.  

“Yes.”, Harry answered distractedly, his mind racing but his body was tired. Now that the pain was only a dull throb, he felt the late hour and that he worked hard for the wad of cash in his bloodstained jeans.  

But he still had to go home and he had to go fast. Maybe nobody noticed where he was yet.  

“Good. Small blessings.” 

“I guess so.”  

He must have drifted off, which normally never happened to him around other people, but maybe it was because Louis made him feel some kind of security. Whatever the reason, he was woken up with a gentle stroke through his curls.  

“Hey, we’re all done.” 

Harry was terrified for a brief moment, not knowing where he was and who touched him. He recoiled with a sharp breath, sitting up too fast, forgetting that he was injured. 

“Harry!” Louis tried to stop him, but his sleep-addled brain only registered that someone tried to grab him. 

With a shout, that was equal parts pain and fear, he jumped up and pushed Louis away from him.  

“Harry!”, Louis tried again and now Harry's mind finally caught up to reality.  

He looked up and saw that Louis stood a few steps away from him, his hands up in the air, like he was showing that he wasn’t about to harm Harry.  

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”, Louis apologised with wide-eyes, showing off his mesmerising blue irises in the artificial light of the room. 

Harry needed a second to calm down his breathing enough. “I’m sorry... Can I go?” How long was he asleep? They knew. They had to know by now and when he got home he would face the consequences of his choices.  

The older man looked genuinely surprised that this of all things was what Harry asked. 

“Yes, you can go. But I have to insist that someone come pick you up. Can you call someone?”  

“Yes.”, Harry lied. He needed to go as soon  as possible, even if that meant he had to lie a bit.  

“That’s good. You have to take it easy for the next few days. Take lot of sitz baths-“ 

“High fibre diet, laxatives and painkillers. I know the drill.” Maybe it was rude of Harry to interrupt, but he ran out of time and he would be in more and more trouble the longer he took. He hurried over to his jeans, getting into them after putting on his pants. That was mildly disgusting, because they both were damp with his blood.  

“Yes, right. Are you in a hurry?”  

“I am. Sorry. Thanks for helping me.” 

“No problem. You need to go see a GP for a check-up in a week or two.” 

“I know. Do the stitches dissolve on their own?” 

“They do. You still have to go see your GP, okay?” 

“I will.”, he lied again.  

“Alright... Then you can go, I guess. Take care.”  

Harry looked briefly at the young doctor, taking note of his name tag. Tomlinson. Doctor Louis Tomlinson.  

“Thank you, truly.”, he said and then he walked past him, trying his best not to limp to badly.  

He had to hurry now.  

Outside he dashed to the bus stop nearby. He was lucky, a bus going the right direction would arrive in only a few minutes.  

Even though his back hurt badly, he remained standing, knowing that sitting down wasn’t really an option. He looked around the street, noticing how it slowly got busier with dawn approaching swiftly. A few people were obviously on their way to work, their faces dreary and tired, just how Harry felt. There was also an old lady, dragging a dog around that must be the same age as her.  

It kind of reminded him of the neighbour’s dog from way back, when he was little. It had been the same mud-brown colour and it also had been ancient, completely deaf and blind in the end, always walking into the fence of the backyard. Harry had adored him.  

He was ripped out of his memories, when the bus arrived and he struggled up the steps, scanning his oyster card and then walking to the middle, taking the space where wheelchairs normally went.  

He looked up at the screen. Almost 6 am. He was so fucked. His heart started pounding in fear and he broke out in cold sweat.  

The ride took twenty minutes and all the way there, he chewed on his right thumb’s cuticle. When he got off in the outskirts of Hackney, he was sucking on it, to make it stop bleeding.  

Another five minute walk and then he was there. The brown bricks of the house looking as unsuspicious as ever, not revealing the horrors of its inside in the slightest.  

He took a shaky breath, then walked up to the door, fishing out the key from his pocket. His hands shook so bad, he needed three tries to unlock the door.  

When he finally stumbled into the dark hallway, he could already hear steps. He cringed and tried to see through the darkness.  

“Where have you been, lad?”, the rough voice of Ewan, with his pronounced Scottish accent asked from the shadows. A click and the light on the ceiling went on.  

Now he could see the mountain of a man, his face stern and his hands on his hips, like a teacher about to give a lecture.  

“Got hold up.”, Harry mumbled, drawing his shoulders in, trying to look as small as possible.  

“Hold up, eh? Yer arse and parsley! Simon's not happy, I can tell ye that much. Come on, lad. He wants to see you.”  

Ewan could have said that Harry was going to be executed in a minute and he wouldn’t be less scared.  

“Please, Ewan. I didn’t have any choice. I was h-“ 

“I can’t help ye, lad. Come on. Let’s not let him wait any longer.”, Ewan interrupted his pleading, waving a hand dismissingly.  

When Harry didn’t move, Ewan sighed and stepped forward, taking the boy firmly by his left arm, dragging him along.  

Knowing it was futile to resist, he let it happen, getting dragged up the stairs to Simon’s rooms.  

Ewan knocked three times and when there was a quiet “Come in.”, he pushed the door open and Harry inside. 

Simon, a man nearing his sixties, sat behind his swanky desk, a single light on it illuminating his heavy-lidded eyes. 

He pursed his lips when he laid eyes on his property.  

“Close the door, Ewan.”  

“Aye, boss.” With that, the watchdog left the room and Harry stood there, waiting for the verdict with fear coursing through his veins.  

“Care to explain why you spent one and a half hours at the hospital?”, Simon asked, his voice scarily calm, while he lit up a cigarette.  

“The last punter was too rough. I was bleeding and needed stitches.”  

“Oh, is that so?”   

“Yes. I’m sorry. I know I’m not allowed to go without permission.”  

“You certainly are not. It seems I can’t trust you, Harry... Come over here.”  

It felt like the blood in his head, suddenly left the building, all of it shooting down to his feet. Nevertheless, he limped forwards, coming to a halt between Simon’s legs.  

Simon held his hand out, fat gold rings on his ugly fat fingers glinting in the dim light. “Money.”  

Harry handed the wad of cash over as fast as he could. Simon threw it on the table, without counting it. Another indication for how pissed off he was. 

“Trousers off and bend over the table. Show me.” Still, he sounded so casual, like Harry had nothing to fear at all. But he knew better, from years of experience.  

He turned his back to Simon, opening his jeans and pulling it down together with his pants with shaky hands. Then he bender over like Simon asked.  

“Tsk tsk, Harry, Harry, Harry. You went to the A&E for that? I think you’re going soft. Can’t take a little rip like that?” A dark chuckle gave Harry goosebumps. “I think we have to work on your pain tolerance.”  

“Please. I- I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, please.”, Harry whispered. There were tears welling up in his eyes. 

But Simon only laughed again and then there was a burning hot pain on his right buttock.  

Harry startled forwards with a cry, banging his hipbones against the edge on the table. He saw a movement to his right and saw how Simon disposed of the extinguished cigarette in the ashtray next to him. 

Then there was a finger, probing at his hole, obviously touching his stitches. The numbing of the anaesthesia stopped on the bus ride, so Harry was feeling the full force of the pain. 

“Ahhh!”, the boy cried, clenching his eyes shut and gripping the table with all his might.  

“We can’t let you work like this. Punters don’t want to see something ugly like that. That means I won’t be making money. I don’t like when I don’t make money, Harry.” 

“I know, I’m sorry! Please!” He was openly crying by now, his mind too wrought up to care any longer.  

“I don’t think you are. But you will be. Ewan!”  

The door opened again and Harry looked up at the man entering the room, his vision blurry with tears.  

“Aye, boss?”  

Harry heard how Simon stood up. “Give the kid a lesson. A proper one. He won’t work for at least a week until the stitches dissolve.”  

“Will do.” 

“Please, please, no.”, Harry choked out but it was like he didn’t speak at all. Simon walked over to the door that led to his bedroom. 

“Don’t get blood on my carpet.” With that he left and Harry was breaking down for real now. 

“Pull up yer jeans, lad. I’m not doing that with yer arse out.”  

It took Harry a minute, but he too rather would be beaten up without being naked from the waist down. Sniffing and breathing harshly, he managed to button up his jeans and then he just stood there, waiting and shaking like a leaf. 

“Come over here, off the carpet, lad.”  

Of course, no blood on the fucking ugly carpet.  

Chapter Text

Ewan kicked against the door at the end of the hallway, holding Harry up with both of his arms. There was no reaction, so he kicked again, a bit harder. “Brad, open that door, ye lazy bum!” 

Finally, there was some scuffling and muttering and then the door was wrenched open. The expression on Brads face changed dramatically, from annoyed to shocked and concerned.  

“Fuck, what happened to him?”  

“Haud yer wheesht and take him!”, Ewan grunted and handed Harry’s limp body over to Brad, who caught him just in time. 

“Hey H. Come, work with me here, yeah?”  

Harry was barely conscious, but understood and gave his last strength to stumble into their shared room. 

“Night.”, Ewan said and swung the door shut.  

Brad did his best to lower Harry gently onto his cot, but still, when his sore body touched his thin mattress, he let out a agonised groan.  

“Fucking hell, H. What happened?”, gasped Brad. 

“Went to hospital. Got punished.” Even talking hurt.  

“Why did you go to fucking hospital?” 

Harry rolled to his side with another groan. “Needed stitches.”  

“Oh... Shit.”  That's all Brad needed to know really. It had happened to both of them before.

“Yeah.”  

For a moment, Brad was gone and Harry really wanted to fall asleep, but he was in too much pain.  

He didn’t know how long Brad was out of the room, but suddenly he was kneeling in front of his cot, wiping the blood from Harry’s face.  

“Got some oxy from Kendall.”  

“Okay.”  

“It’s already crushed up, so you have to sit up a bit.” Harry disliked snorting things, but he did it to escape the pain. He rather would just swallow the drug, but Kendall was a major addict and didn’t have the patience to wait for it to kick in. Also the high was better. 

Harry waited for Brad to form two white lines on a little mirror, only then he leaned up on his elbow, shaking from the pain. Ewan was an expert when it came to administering as much pain as possible with the least amount of lingering damage. So nothing was broken, but the bruises hurt just as badly.  

Brad held little cut off plastic straw ready for him and Harry took it. 

One line. Two lines. Then he sagged back onto the bed, waiting for the painless euphoria. 

Harry spent two days on his cot, high out of his mind. On the third day, Brad refused to give him more oxy, so Harry came down, feeling his body tenfold.  

When he finally came to, it was broad daylight and Brad was snoring on his mattress on the other side of the tiny room. In the light than shone through the threadbare curtain, Harry noticed that Brad sported a new black eye. He wondered shortly, what happened there, but then Harry’s bladder demanded all his attention. Jesus, when did he last have a piss?  

Stifling his pained groan, he sat up and then waddled over to the door with stiff limbs. Once on the hallway, he made his way over to the small bathroom they were allowed to use and all had to share. Luckily, Harry seemed to be the only one awake, so he didn’t have to use the loo, while one of the girls were having a shower.  It was a rare luxury and if the bathroom wasn’t a complete shithole, Harry would have thought about taking a bath. But the problem was, everyone used it, but no one really felt responsible for cleaning it. Only once in a while, someone had a total fit and cleaned it up. Or in Olivia's case, screamed so long that someone else did it, only to make her shut up.  

But one of those cleaning days was massively overdue, so there was no chance that he would sit in that filthy bath tub. First things first. He had a wee, groaning slightly at the pain of his full bladder. He was glad he didn’t eat anything over the past couple of days, which meant, his bowels were empty and he didn’t have to deal with the pain in the arse of taking a shit while having four fissures.  But he could only fast for so long.  

He wouldn’t take a bath, but he had to wash either way, so he climbed into the tub, ignoring his reflection in the dirty mirror over the sink. He pulled the curtain shut, touching it as little as possible, because it was moldy at the bottom.  When he finally got the water to a humane temperature, he reached for his shower gel and saw that it was completely empty. Great. So was everything else, apart from a bottle of cheap shampoo. Harry sighed and picked it up, beginning to wash himself cautiously.  

Someone would have to go to the store and pick up some stuff, or they would have to wash with dish soap from the kitchen. As absurd as it sounded, Harry already did that. Because if you had the choice of leaving some strangers spunk in your hair or wash yourself with dish soap, the answer was clear, right?  

After that frankly disappointing shower, Harry toweled himself off with his towel, hoping no one else had used it.   

Then he realized he forgot to take fresh clothes, but really, it wasn’t like no one in this house had already seen the goods. So he simply wrapped his towel around his hips, leaving for the kitchen downstairs as quiet as possible.   

When he passed the living room, he saw Kendall sprawled out naked over the sleeping figure of Ewan. She probably fucked with him to get more of her stuff. The girls could do that, give him a blowie or fuck him for a favour, but as Ewan wasn’t gay or at least willing to overlook who was giving him head, the boys of the house had a harder time getting things they couldn’t afford from the tiny bit of money they got for buying groceries, sanitary products and clothes.  

Harry went on to the kitchen, huffing out in annoyance when he saw the chaos someone left behind. If everybody would clean after themselves, their living conditions would be so much better.  

He made himself some porridge, using water, because the milk was empty as always. He poured some sugar over it, to give it at least some resemblance of a taste.  

He ate it standing up at the kitchen counter, pouring it down with a nice glass of tap water. Suddenly he heard footsteps and he froze, not knowing who was approaching. 

He felt a bit of relieve, when David entered the door frame. The day watchdog. He was a tiny bit nicer than Ewan.  

“Harry. Not asleep?”, he asked surprised, entering going straight for the kettle. 

“Uh, no. I have the week off.”  

David gave him a once over. “Yes, I can see that. Do you still have skin-colour somewhere?” He was obviously addressing the bruises Harry sported all over, shining in all colours of the rainbow. 

“Sure. Between my toes.”, Harry deadpanned.

David chuckled and resumed putting the kettle on, searching for a clean cup. 

“Does nobody ever clean in this fucking house?”  

“I’ll do the dishes in a minute.”, Harry offered, wanting to stay on David’s good side.  

“Cheers, H.”  

“Is it okay if I go to the store afterwards? There is a spectacular shortage of body wash.”  

Again, David looked at him from head to toe. “I shouldn’t let you go out like this. You look like you were trampled by a dozen horses.” 

“I’ll cover up. I promise. No one will see a thing.” He gave David the puppy eyes and the normally so tough man crumbled.  

“Yeah, okay.”, he sighed. “But cover up and no detours. I’ll be checking.” 

Harry beamed at him, even though using those face muscles hurt quite a bit.  

“Okay.” 

It was a rare occasion that Harry was out and about while the sun was shining high in the sky. He was quite warm, because he wore his old hoodie in an attempt to hide most of the bruises. He had the hood up and wore sunglasses. That’s all he could do.  

He was not in a hurry, because even though he knew he was being observed, David didn’t tell him to hurry. So, he walked slowly, pretending to be a normal 20 year old, a normal person like all the others around him. He knew he wasn't but he could pretend. 

The Tesco wasn’t far away and he reached it in only a few minutes.  

Inside he wished he had more money, like always, seeing all the fresh fruits and veggies. He'd love it if he could just buy what he wanted. He would go crazy and buy as much fresh products as he could carry. When he was younger, his mum used to cook all those delicious things from scratch for him and his sister and he missed it so much.  

He interrupted his train of thought right there. Thinking about his mum was painful. Thinking about his sister, was torture. Nope.  

“Stop it Harry.”, he whispered and walked past the fresh products.  

He made quick work of picking up some shower gel, shampoo and hand soap. Then he also chose some cheap bread, noodles and a small variety of canned stuff, like peas, lentils and of course baked beans. That was all he could do on the high fibre front.  

He used the self-checkout, happy that he had enough money for everything.  

Then he went straight back home, not wanting to break his promise to David.  

By the time he stored everything away, he felt exhausted and was hurting all over. It was time for a break and some painkillers.  

Six days later he was summoned by Simon at 11 pm. Ewan brought him to his office, pushing Harry inside and then closed the door.  

The room was occupied by three men. One was Simon, one was Jeffrey and the third one, Harry didn’t know.  

They ignored him for at least five minutes, talking amongst themselves. 

It gave Harry the opportunity to listen in and observe, even though he was nervous about the reason for his attendance of this business meeting. 

They talked quite a bit about the ‘other house’. Maybe Harry was just here to overhear exactly that - some kind of sick torture method.  

Because it was torture to hear about the other house. That house, was in a different part of the city, but it was just like this one here. Jeffrey managed the everyday business of it, including a little drug dealing on the side. The other house was also home to his sister.  

Harry and Gemma had been taken 4 years ago, when they were on their way from a concert back to their hotel. Harry's mind had some kind of blockage when it came to this night, hence he couldn't quite remember every detail. But it all ended in Gemma being taken away and Harry being threatened that if he didn’t co-operate, Gemma wouldn’t see the light of day again.  

Harry hadn’t seen Gemma in nearly two years now. The last time, Jeffrey had brought her with him and Harry had stood in the hallway, on his way out to another job. That memory alone, was like a knife to Harry’s heart. Gemma had looked at him with her big eyes, walking past him and following Jeffrey inside, like she was on a leash. But she had reached out and quickly squeezed Harry’s hand. That brief moment... Harry fed off that brief moment for so, so long.  

And now he was standing here, hearing how the dealings went at the other house, wishing he would hear about his sister and simultaneously  dreading to hear her name. Because most of the time, if someone was important enough to be mentioned by name, it wasn’t a good thing.  

“Harry.” Simon addressed him so suddenly, Harry flinched.  

He looked up and saw how Simon beckoned him over. He hurried over, coming to a halt next to him. 

“Sit.” It was a command one would normally give to a dog and seeing as there was no free chair, Harry had no choice but to sit like a dog. He got onto his knees, avoiding the men's gazes.  

“What do you say Harry? Are you done ignoring my rules and ready to be a good boy again?”  

“Yes, Sir.” He despised how Simon was talking to him, but he really was done with being beaten up.  

“Say it.”  

Harry breathed in through his nose, to calm himself. “I want to be a good boy again.”  

He could hear Jeffrey and the other guy chuckle. 

“That’s more like it. Ready to prove it?”  

Now, Harry looked up, dread pooling in his guts. Simon was smirking down at him, as if he was waiting for Harry to object. That was a trap. Harry couldn’t refuse, if he wanted to have a painless day ever again.  

But seemingly, he hesitated a bit too long, because now Jeffrey was speaking up. “Maybe I let Gemma be a good girl for me tonight instead.”  

Harry’s head whipped around to the man who just spoke, shaking his head rapidly.  

“No! No, I’ll be your good boy! I’ll do everything! Please!” He wasn’t beneath begging, if it was for his sister.  

Jeffrey acted like he was thinking very hard about the offer and then grinned. “If you insist.”  

Simon raised his hand and petted Harry’s head. “Good, now get over there and do what you do best.”  

And Harry stood up obediently, walking over to Jeffrey who beckoned him teasingly with one finger. Maybe he could bite his dick off?

Chapter Text

It had been weeks since the hospital incident, but still Harry’s life wasn’t back to normal. Or what he considered as normal at least. For the last year, Harry had been working jobs that had been arranged beforehand. That usually meant he knew what he was in for, how many customers he had that night and it also meant a tiny bit more security. Now he was back on the street. He had to search for his punters himself, making a specific quota by the end of the night. If he didn’t bring home the amount of money Simon told him to bring, there were consequences.  

It was a prolonged punishment so to say, trying to make Harry more obedient again. And Harry was. The constant threatening of his sister and the fact that he would only be promoted to hotel jobs again if he was ‘Simon's good boy’, made him lose every bit of fight he had in him.  

Harry was allowed to roam the streets of Mayfair and Soho, so he walked around, trying to find a good place to look out for possible punters. It was best when the street wasn’t too lively, so he chose a pub that was a little off to the side. There he waited, giving the guys who went in a charming smile. And he didn’t have to wait long. One guy who went in with a a whole group, came back out only five minutes later, approaching Harry warily.  

“Hey.”, smiled Harry, knowing that he could charm everyone off their feet with his dimples.  

“Hi, uh, uhm, are you... Uh... you know...?”  

Again, Harry smiled at the guy reassuringly. “I am whatever you want me to be.” He topped it off with a wink. 

“So you are...?” God, did he really need to spell it out for him? 

“If you’re asking if I’m up for sale, then yes.”  

The dude coughed out a nervous laugh, getting a bit red in the face. Harry would bet his left hand on it that this man had a wife and at least two children at home. “Oh, that’s uh good.”  

“Are you interested?”, Harry asked, trying to help the man along.  

“Uh... Yes.”  

“That’s great.” Seeing as this man seemed to have absolutely no clue about the street business, Harry knew he could up his price a bit. “It’s sixty for a blowie and 120 for a fuck.” He left out that playing rough would be double that price, because that man didn’t look like he could stomach such an information. 

“Oh, uh, okay. I... Uhm, I’ll t-take the blowjob then.”  

“Okay. How about we search for a cosy place just for us two, hm?”  

“Uh, yeah, okay.”  

Harry jerked his had over to a dark back alley, starting to walk in that direction, knowing that the guy would follow him. 

“What should I call you?”, Harry asked, while they walked.  

“Uh, my name is... Patrick.” The hesitation told Harry that this was not his real name, but he couldn’t give a flying fuck about that.  

“Alright, Patrick. You can call me H.” He never used the name his mother gave him with punters, but he couldn’t bring himself to use a completely different name either, so he went with that nickname. 

“H? That’s... okay. H.”  

They made it to the alley behind some dumpsters, so Harry thought it wasn’t necessary to make any further small talk.  

“It’s money first, Patrick, if you please. I've had one too many bad experiences with being ripped off.”  

Patrick's eyebrows shot up, but he willingly reached into his back pocket, getting his purse out.  

He picked 3 twenties out of it and held it out for Harry to take, who took it and put it into his sock for safekeeping.  

“Alright, now that that’s settled, we can have some fun.”, Harry winked. It was hard sometimes to keep up the playful and lascivious facade. But if he wanted to make enough money by the end of the night, he had to turn enough tricks and he could only do that by appearing to be willing.  

“Okay.” Patrick sounded a little breathless and he stared at Harry as if he wanted to engrave the boy's image on his eyeballs.  

Again Harry smirked, pushing Patrick to the wall, before he got onto his knees. They were already quite sore and he stifled a wince. His eyes met the evidence that he wouldn’t have to work too much on this one, as Patrick already sported a boner.  

He reached out for it, massaging it trough his trousers, which let to Patrick letting out a supressed moan.  

Harry looked up at him, knowing that men loved it when he did that.  

“Gonna make you feel so good.” 

“Yes, please.” This was most definitely one of the politest punters he ever had.  

Then Harry got to work, trying to think as little as possible, blending out the smell, taste and sounds Patrick gave off. He often wondered if he would like giving head when he’d do it consensually. Hard to guess, because he never did that. All his sexual experiences happened after the time he was taken, as he was only sixteen then and still a virgin. Of course he had fooled around a bit, kissing a girl or two and even a boy, but nothing went beyond that and maybe some petting above the clothes. Before everything happened to him, when he was still a normal sixteen year old boy, he could hardly wait for his first time. When it finally happened, bent over Simon's desk, he wanted to slap his past self in the face.  

He was ripped out of his thoughts, when Patrick gripped his hair, finally showing that there was a bit more in him than this stuttering, polite mess. He shoved his dick as far as it could go, holding it there while he came with a loud grunt. Harry had enough experience to know what to do, so he wouldn’t choke. He relaxed his throat and waited for it to be over, hardly having to swallow because it went right down his throat.  

After a few seconds, when Patrick stopped twitching like he had a seizure, the man let go. 

Harry hastily pulled back, in dire need of air right now. He gasped a bit, but otherwise he was fine.  

He stood up, averting his gaze while Patrick tucked himself away again.  

“That... That was great! Thank you!” 

“Yeah, no worries.”, Harry nodded and then simply turned, leaving Patrick in the alley.  

He returned to his post in front of the pub, which was a lot more busy than ten minutes ago. There was a group of maybe 12 people, laughing and shouting, while they were having a smoke.  

Most of them seemed to be out with their partners, so that was not was Harry was looking for. Maybe he should get over to the pub nearby, where one or two tricks were almost guaranteed. 

His decision was made, when a woman, hanging on her boyfriends arm gave him a sceptic look, like she was wondering why Harry stood there all alone, practically doing nothing. 

He hated it when people looked at him like that. To most people it had to be quite obvious what Harry was looking for, because he wore jeans so tight, they left nothing to the imagination and a sheer black blouse, unbuttoned down to his bellybutton. On the other hand, this was Soho and some people did dress like this on their night out, just having fun.  

Either way, he hated to be looked at like that, so he made his way over to the other pub.  

He took up his post opposite the door, just waiting, smiling seductively at the men he thought he had a chance with. And sure enough, he was back in another alley with another man. This man was the polar opposite of Patrick. He obviously did this before, bargaining about the price and demanding a fuck without hesitation.  

At least the dude didn’t refuse to wear a condom.  

Harry just took it, waiting for it to be over, until the guy put his hand on the back of Harry’s head, pressing his face into the brick wall.  

“Hey, not so rough yeah?” Harry tried to sound casual, like he wasn’t nearly having a panic attack. Because if a man decided he wanted to hurt Harry, especially such a large, strong man, he couldn’t defend himself.  

“Shut up. I'll pay extra.”, the punter huffed. He seemed to be in a frenzy, only interested in satisfying his needs in whatever way possible.  

Harry bit on his lip, trying to shut everything out. It would be over soon. He just had to get though a few more minutes, then it would be over.  

But the man wouldn't let Harry go to that numb place, suddenly taking a hold of Harry’s throat. He couldn’t breathe. His instincts took over and he tried with all his might to fight himself free. Only when he reached back and scratched at something that he thought was the man’s face, he was released.  

The punter drew out of him with a yell, letting go of Harry which resulted in him toppling to the ground.  

He tried to get back up as quickly as he could, but a shoe collided with his head before he could even get his feet under him. Pain flickered though his scull, but he stifled his cry, because he knew they couldn’t draw any attention to them. If the police showed up, Harry would be fucked in more than one way.  

“You dirty little bastard! You scratched me!”, hissed the bulk of a man.  

“S-Sorry!” He looked up, seeing the angry face through the veil of his unshed tears. There wasn’t even blood on the guy’s face. Didn’t he understand Harry only did it because he'd been scared to be choked to death in this fucking alley?  

The man stared down at Harry for a second, then motioned for him to stand up. Apparently, the dude's horniness was greater than his grudge. 

“Turn around and bend over. I already paid for this!”  

It took the boy a second to get back to his feet, his knees trembling with fear.  

The punter shoved his dick back into Harry as soon as he was back in position. He was even rougher than before, pounding into him like a madman. Harry didn’t have a boner to begin with, but if he’d had one, it definitely would have flagged now. His whole body was being rocked into the wall, the boy barely managing to brace himself against it.  

“Please, you’re hurting me.”, Harry pleaded. “Please.”  

A smack to the side of his already hurting head and then three to his backside in quick succession was his answer.  

Harry started whimpering, knowing that he didn’t stand a chance against that guy. But taking it also didn’t seem like a good option, because every thrust hurt like a bitch and he was scared he would get injured again. Well, seriously injured, because a bruised ass was certain.  

“Fuck! For a whore you have a tight ass!” 

“Please, it hurts. Please stop.”, Harry sniffled, but he didn’t get a reaction. Or at least not from his customer.  

“Oi! He said you’re hurting him! What the fuck! Stop this!!!” This was another man's voice and Harry whipped his head around in the same moment as his punter rammed himself inside and stilled.  

“Fuck off! I paid for this!”, he gritted out.  

The man at the entrance of the alley, stepped nearer. Now Harry could see that this was a relatively young man, end of his twenties maybe. He had a handsome face and had the body of a boxer. “Take your hands off of him now! He asked you to stop!”  

With a groan of pure fury, the man pulled out of Harry, shoving him against the wall face first with all his might. Harry collided with the cold stone, feeling a nauseating pain and immediately feeling dizzy as he sacked to the dirty ground.  

He could hear some angered voices and then footsteps.  

Then there was a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  

“Please! No. I- I'll give you your money back! Please, stop!”, Harry sobbed, cradling his head in his arms, to protect it from further injury. 

“Hey, mate. It’s alright. I won’t hurt you. He's gone.” That was his rescuer's voice.  

Very slowly, like a frightened animal, he lifted his head. And sure enough, the handsome man was kneeling next to Harry, an extremely concerned look on his face, which accentuated his puppy dog eyes. Liam winced when he laid said eyes on Harry’s face. 

“Mate, you’re bleeding.”  

He was? Only then he realised there was something trickling down his temple. He lifted his hand to touch it, but was stopped with a gentle hand around his wrist.  

“Don’t touch it.” Gentle or not, Harry flinched anyways. “Woah, sorry. I really won’t hurt you. Promise. Come on. My friend is a doctor. He can have a look, yeah?”  

Harry immediately started to shake his head, regretting it on the spot, because another wave of dizziness swept over him. He closed his eyes with a quiet groan.  

“Come on, you need help. I can call you an ambulance if you felt safer that way.”  

Harry ripped his eyes open again in fear. “No! No ambulance!” An ambulance meant he would be taken away to a hospital and then they would know. This time they surely would hurt Gemma for it. He couldn’t go to hospital!  

“Okay. Then come with me to my friend. He is over there outside the pub. He can help you.”, the man pleaded. 

Harry bit his lip. Maybe it wouldn’t be all to bad if he received medical attention. They wouldn’t know because, he'd still be in his designated area.  

So, eventually, Harry nodded slowly, careful not to move his head all too much.  

“Okay. Come on then, I’ll, uhm, help you up.” He was offered a large hand. “I’m Liam by the way.”  

“H.”, Harry simply said as he let Liam pull him to his feet. There was a short moment of extreme awkwardness, because Harry’s jeans was still pulled down under his arse. He fixed it as quick as he could, appreciating Liam averting his eyes for that time.  

“Okay, H. Come on. Do you need a hand? You look a bit unsteady.”  

It was so strange to hear someone being so genuinely concerned for him. 

“No, I’m fine.”, Harry answered automatically, but he stumbled at the first step he took and Liam seemingly decided that his help was needed after all. 

Just when Liam put a steadying arm around Harry’s waist, there was a shout coming from the one side of the alley, the direction they wanted to walk.  

“Oi, Payno! How long does one need to take a piss, huh?”  

Harry flinched and stood stock-still, but Liam said: “Don’t worry, that’s my mate.” And then louder. “Get your arse over here, Tommo! I need help!”  

Hurried footsteps and then someone entered the alleyway. Harry’s heart dropped to somewhere around his knees. It was Louis. Doctor Louis Tomlinson, who had stitched him up a few weeks ago. 

The man's expression changed from curious, to massively surprised and then concerned.  

Liam helped Harry a bit further along, to a spot where the streetlights shone a bit brighter. Louis approached them quickly. 

“Shit, what happened?”  

But before anyone could answer his question, Harry began to feel dizzier than ever and he had just enough strength in him to struggle out of Liam’s arm, to throw up only a second later. Thankfully, he’d managed to turn away, so he wasn’t being sick on any of the two men who tried to help him.  

“Oh, shit! Mate, you alright?”, Liam exclaimed.  

“He's obviously not, Liam.”, was Louis dry response to that.  

Harry felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, while he was dry-heaving, because he didn’t have much in his stomach to actually throw up.  

“Hey, easy there. Come on, let’s get you away from that puddle and sit you down, okay?” Louis voice was so soft, as if he was speaking to a child. 

Harry let himself be guided away by both men, just to the entrance of the alley, where they sat him down on some steps, which led up to some kind of back entrance.  

Then there was a bright light and belatedly Harry got that Liam turned on his phone’s flashlight.  

“Okay. What's your name?”, the doctor asked, as he crouched down in front of Harry. 

And okay, what? Did Louis not remember him? Of course, Louis mist see a shit-ton of people every shift, but... Harry was confused. But then he saw how Louis looked pointedly over to Liam and then back at Harry. Oh.  

This was an attempt to protect Harry in some sort. If Louis revealed that he'd seen Harry before, Liam would ask questions, Harry didn’t want to answer. So he played along. 

“H.” His voice was so freaking hoarse now.  

“Hi, H. I’m Louis. I’m a doctor. Can I have a look at your head?”  

“Yeah.”  

Louis looked up at Liam, motioning to his phone. “Get a bit closer, I need more light. Thanks.”  

Then Louis had a good look at Harry’s head wound. “Banged your head pretty hard there, huh?”  

“He was shoved into the wall. The noise was mad.”, Liam commented.  

Harry wished Liam wound reveal no more about what he saw to his friend.  

“Give me the phone for a sec.”  

Then he asked Harry, just like in the hospital to look at his finger while he shone the light into his eyes.  

“I think you have a concussion, H.”  

“I think so, too.”, Harry agreed. He knew the feeling all too well, having had a couple already.  

“Yeah, I think we should get you into the A&E to have a proper look at your head and I think we should stitch that wound on your head. It’s still bleeding.”  

Fear was all Harry could feel for a second. “No. I can’t go to hospital! I'm fine, I’ll just go home and... I c-can't go to hospital!”  

He saw Liam and Louis exchange a quick glance.  

“H, listen, you’re bleeding and you have a pretty bad concussion. You need help, okay?”, Louis tried again, talking slowly as if Harry was a bit hard of understanding.  

Harry closed his eyes in despair. Why did those things always happen to him? He must've been a serial killer in a past life or something. “You don’t understand. I can't go to hospital.”  

“Why can’t you go to hospital?”, Liam asked, sounding properly confused.  

Harry fought the tears he felt rising up. “I can’t say that. I- Can I go now?”  

Again, Louis and Liam exchanged a look, but this one was more concerned than confused now. 

“No, I don’t think you should. How... how about you come with us to my place? It’s just around the corner.”  

Now, Harry tore his eyes open again, staring at Louis like he grew a second head. Did he just invite Harry over?  

“Yeah, mate. We promise you’re safe with us and there Tommo can have a proper look at you.”, Liam chimed in and gave Harry a reassuring smile.  

The boy bit his lip, thinking about his options. The first one was to refuse all help and trying to go home with the bit of money he made... shit he made so little money.  

He should choose option two. If he went with Louis, maybe he could get back on the street afterwards and turn at least a couple of more tricks? Also, both men seemed adamant about not letting him go like this.  

“Yeah. Okay. Is it far?”  

Louis smiled at him with relieve. “No, like I said, just around the corner.”  

And so it was a done deal. The three men made their way to Louis Tomlinson's home. And it was indeed just around the corner. It was situated in a nice building and even had a lift. For the last fact, Harry was immensely grateful, because he felt like falling down and never getting up again.  

On the fourth floor, Liam helped Harry out of the lift, while Louis hurried down the hall to unlock his door.  

Harry looked around in amazement when they reached the open door, taking in the hallway with black and white photography on the walls.  

“Shoes off?”, Harry asked, stopping on the doormat. 

“What? No! Fuck that! Come in and sit down!”, Louis voice sounded from inside the flat and Liam pulled him over the doorstep, leading him to the living room.  

If Harry had been a bit less beaten up, he would've been in total awe of Louis flat. It was spacious and modern but at the same time it exuded a warm sense of cosiness. Also it wasn’t all that tidy, with some clothes laying around, a used teacup on the black mirror-topped table and a whole array of books stacked up right next to the sofa.  

Liam lowered Harry down on said sofa and the boy immediately got a strange feeling of dirtying the place with his presence. Maybe also with his clothes. He made a bit too much contact with the concrete ground tonight.  

“Okay.” Louis entered the living room, carrying a box with what seemed to be dressing material and stuff like that. “Make room, Payno.”, he ordered and his friend immediately stepped away. It seemed like Louis went into doctor mode and he had this... aura of authority. But at the same time he still looked friendlier than any other doctor Harry ever met.  

Louis sat down next to Harry, putting the box on the table.  

“Alright, H. Let’s see.” 

Harry let Louis examine his head again, before the older man began to clean the wound, which was situated right at Harry’s hairline. 

“Could you maybe tie your hair together? It would help a lot. It think it needs a few stitches.”  

“Sure.”, Harry nodded and took a scrunchie from his wrist to put his hair up into a bun.   

“Thanks. Okay. I only have numbing cream at hand, so it might sting a bit... we can still go to the A&E; there you get a proper local anaesthesia.” Louis obviously had to try it again to persuade Harry to go to the hospital to salve his conscience.  

“No... It’s okay if it strings a bit.”, Harry mumbled. 

Louis sighed and looked at Liam. “Here, hold the light for me so I can see properly.” He held out a tiny flashlight for his friend, who immediately took it and shone it at Harry’s head.  

“Like this?”  

“Yup. That’s good.”  

Louis then proceeded to put on the numbing gel, preparing his utensils in the time it took to work.  

“Care to share with the class what happened, H?”, Louis eventually asked, his tone soft.  

Harry saw in the corner of his eyes how Liam fidgeted a bit and it was pretty obvious that the man felt uncomfortable remembering what he witnessed. Liam being present also meant Harry couldn’t lie, because he saw everything. 

“Not really, no.” His voice was small and he averted his eyes as shame crawled up his insides.  

Again, Liam fidgeted, but he remained silent, which Harry was impossibly grateful for.  

“That’s okay. But maybe you could tell me if there are any other injuries? Other than your head?”  

“Uhm... I'm fine.” Harry was sure that two sore knees and a bruised bum didn’t qualify as ‘injuries’.  

“Are you sure?”  

“I think his hands are scraped.”, Liam cut in, before Harry could once again say that he was fine.  

Harry looked at his palms and found, to his own surprise, that Liam was right. It must have happened when he was pushed and fell to the ground. Now that he saw the tiny cuts with dirt and small rubble in them, they began to sting like crazy. “Oh.”  

“We'll clean them out in a minute when I’m done with your head, okay?”  

“Okay.”  

Louis picked up his sewing utensils, getting a lot closer to Harry. So close, the boy could smell him and where he normally felt like turning away, he now had the strange feeling of wanting to get closer to that devine scent. But then he remembered that smelling went both ways and he wanted to recoil. He didn’t want Louis to smell him. He felt so dirty and he must smell just like it.  

“Hmm, maybe lean back your head. Against the backrest. Yes, like this.” Louis now kneeled on the sofa, hovering right above Harry. “Okay, more light please, Liam. Yup, that’s good. Hold still now, H.”  

It did sting a bit, but Harry experienced a lot worse in his life. Also, he was totally distracted by staring up at Louis face. From his position, he could take in those chiselled cheekbones and unique eyes, the light scruff on his jaw... that jawline...  

“And done. You did great, H.”  

The boy blinked, feeling like he came out of a dream. God, he hoped he didn’t stare at Louis too obviously.  

The doctor used a small adhesive bandage to cover the stitches with, smiling slightly. 

“Let me see those hands now.”  

Again, Louis was very gentle picking out the tiny stones in his hands and then took him to the bathroom to wash them out under flowing water. 

Here too, Harry was marvelling at the impeccable interior, including a large corner bathtub and a walk-in shower that could easily fit four people.  

“You have a very nice home.”, Harry said shyly, avoiding his own reflexion in the huge mirror over the sink at all costs.  

“Thank you, Harry.” Louis kept his voice low, so Liam wouldn’t hear that Louis knew Harry's actual name. 

“So you do remember me.” Now he also avoided looking at Louis, which left him looking at his dirty old boots.  

“Of course I do remember you. Hard to forget actually.”  

Of course. Harry must have made quite the impression, with his ripped arsehole.  

He let his head hang in shame, wondering if he should leave now to avoid more of those comments. But Louis took his hands to hold them under the tap and for a second Harry forgot everything. His own hands seemed so large next to Louis fine hands. While his own where rough looking and somewhat dirty, Louis where clean and delicate, perfect for handling operating instruments and saving lives.  

Exactly those hands, where now using some soap to clean Harry’s own. But Louis could try as he might, he would never get Harry clean. Dirt stuck to him, inside and out.  

But apart from Harry feeling otherwise, Louis did clean his hands pretty good. 

“Shall we bandage them? You have to keep them clean to avoid infection.”  

Harry thought about it for a second, but then declined the offer. It would be hard enough to pull with the plaster on his temple, having two wrapped up hands would make it nearly impossible. Of course he didn’t tell Louis that last bit.  

“But promise to keep them clean.”  

“I will... thank you.” This was the first time Harry looked up at Louis again, because he felt that a thank you without eye contact was half-arsed.  

The older man smiled at Harry, which made his eyes crinkle. “You’re welcome.”  

Then Harry felt like the eye contact got too intense and he quickly turned his gaze to the ground again.  

“Come on, Harry. Let’s go over to the living room. You should sit down. I can make you a cuppa.”  

“Uhm... I- I can’t but thank you. I have to leave.”  

“Harry, you have a concussion. You should sit down and call someone who will pick you up.” Louis sounded like he couldn’t believe Harry was this stupid.  

The boy took a step back and drew in his shoulders. “I'm sorry, I really have to go. Thank you for helping me... again.”  

With those words, Harry turned around and fled from the flat, bypassing a surprised looking Liam on the sofa and out of the door.  

He walked as fast as his dizzy head and bruised ass allowed him to, pressing the button for the lift numerous times, when he reached it. But luckily, neither Liam nor Louis followed him, so Harry could leave undisturbed. Once back on the street outside, he considered where to go from here. He definitely needed to make some more money, or otherwise Simon would punish him again. Last time, he received six new cigarette burns and a good and proper spanking, which Harry found unbelievably humiliating. And in addition to that, Simon would be less inclined to let Harry work hotel jobs again. He had to prove that he was worth it.  

Hence, Harry hobbled off to a night club at the other end of the street, hoping that some patrons would leave horny enough to consider paying Harry for some fun.

Chapter Text

Louis stood flabbergasted in the doorway to his living room, staring at his front door.  

“Wow, seems like he was in a hurry.”, Liam commented and Louis shot him a look, like it was all his fault.  

“What? What did I do? You must scared him off!”, Liam exclaimed, raising his hands.   

Lou sighed and rubbed his face. “Yeah, maybe. He should have stayed. He has a proper concussion and that’s not something to mess with.”   

“I’m really not surprised that he has a concussion. His head smacked that wall so badly, you should have heard that.”   

Louis regarded his best friend again, only now remembering that Liam witnessed what happened to Harry.  

“What happened anyways?”, he asked, walking over and flopping down next to him.   

His friend bit his lip, looking like he contemplated something.   

“Spit it out, Payno.”   

That brought him to roll his eyes, but he nodded. “It’s pretty awful... uhm, I went to the alley to have a piss, you know that. And I stopped because I thought I heard something and then I could hear this noise... First I thought it was a child crying or summat. But then I could hear how someone – well, H – started to beg another person to stop because they were hurting him. I walked closer and saw... uhm, well I saw how some big ass guy fucked H pretty, uhm, brutally. I immediately told the guy to stop, but he said he already paid for it and kept on going and I told him to fuck off again. Which he luckily did, don’t know if I could have taken him on.”   

Louis stared at Liam with wide eyes and an open mouth. He did expect to hear something bad, but this... Harry was a prostitute. He thought maybe the boy was in an abusive relationship, where he got hurt often, but this... and the worst part was that Harry didn’t seem to do it out of his own free will. It was obvious that someone was controlling him, or he would not be so scared to go to the hospital.   

“Fuck...”   

“Yeah, poor boy, huh? I mean, how old is he anyways? 18?”   

“20.”, Louis answered automatically, still lost in his racing thoughts.   

“Oh, did you ask him?”   

Feeling caught, he bit his lip and pulled a face, looking at his best friend. “No... I read it in his file. He was my patient a few weeks ago.”   

Liam sat up, looking betrayed. “What? You knew him?”   

“Yeah, but listen, I thought he would feel more comfortable if I acted like I didn’t know him in front of you, so you wouldn’t ask him questions. Also, it’s doctor-patient confidentiality.”  

“Fuck that, I’m your best mate! You tell me stuff all the time!”   

Louis rolled his eyes but laughed. “About people you don’t know! What does the guy with the huge wart on his back care if I tell you about him? But Harry might have cared!”   

“Harry? Is that his name?”   

“Well, his file said Harold Smith, but he told me to call him Harry. But, honestly, I don’t know if that is his real name.” For all Louis knew, none of the information in Harry’s file was true.  

“Harold Smith? That sounds like the fakest name ever.”   

“It does, huh? But I bet his name really starts with an H, or he wouldn’t go with that abbreviation, right?”   

“Does it matter? I mean, you probably won’t see the kid again, right?”   

Somehow, Louis didn’t like the sound of that. Since he met that beautiful being in the A&E, he thought about him frequently, especially about his eyes. They had such a special colour. The most magnific shade of green he'd ever seen. Not to mention that Harry was beautiful in every other way too. The problem was that Harry seemed to be in big trouble and even that sounded like the understatement of the year. The kid was prostituting himself! Well, Louis shouldn't call him a kid, as he was 20 years old, so he wasn’t even a teen anymore, but Harry’s mannerisms were misleading. He always held himself in a way, where he seemed smaller than he actually was and acted like a scared kitten most of the time. Which was understandable if what Louis suspected was true and Harry was forced into this kind of lifestyle without his consent.   

“Shit... Liam, I have to help him.” It sounded like he just had an epiphany of biblical proportions and well, he kind of did.   

Liam looked at him for a second, face completely blank, then he groaned. “I know that face. It’s your helper syndrome coming through. Mate, you can’t save everybody.”   

His eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t want to save everybody. But Harry obviously needs help... and there is something about him.”   

Liam's forehead furrowed. “There is something about him?”   

He felt a bit uneasy, glancing up at the ceiling. “I know I sound delusional, but... I don’t know, when I first saw him I already had the urge to do something to protect him and now... He needs help , Li.”   

Now Liam’s eyebrows drew even further together. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prostitute, Tommo.”  

For that Liam got a slap on the head.  

“Hey!”, Liam pouted, holding his head, even though Louis didn’t even slap him that hard.   

“No, no ‘hey’! First of all, I don’t have a crush!” He was maybe 60 percent sure of that. “And number two, he may be prostituting himself, but that doesn’t make him any less worth or less of a human!”   

His friend’s expression softened. “Of course it doesn’t... but what do you even want to do? You don’t know anything. You don’t know his real name, you don’t know where he lives or anything else.”   

He grimaced, realising that Liam was right. “Shit, I shouldn’t have let him go.” And once this realisation set in, he stood up, walking over to the door.  

“Oi, where are you going?”   

“I’m going to search for him. Obviously .”, he called back, already out the door. He heard a huff of annoyance behind him, but then there were hurried footsteps and Liam caught up with him.  

Harry dreaded going with that man, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He needed the godforsaken money. They were on the way to the man's car, which was, according to him, parked in a side street. It would be a few more pounds in his sock, after they'd be done. But still, he was scared of getting in that car. His head hurt and he was so fucking dizzy. Not to mention how bruised his arse was and that wouldn’t get any better in that car. They turned a corner, leaving the busy street. Indeed, the man, who'd introduced himself as Paul, stopped at a black BMW and unlocked it.   

“Get in the backseat.”, he ordered, opening the backdoor. Harry hesitated for a second or two, but then he remembered why he had to do this. So, he took a deep breath and bowed down to climb in.  

“Oi! Don’t get in that car!”   

Both, Harry and the punter, turned around in unison, gaping at the approaching figures of two men.   

Harry recognised them rather quickly. It was Louis and Liam, hurrying towards them.   

“Mind your own fucking business!”, Paul yelled, taking a hold of Harry’s arm to push him into the car.   

But Louis, who was running by now, reached them in this moment, pummelling into the man. Unfortunately, the punter kept a hold of Harry, which caused the latter to loose his balance, tumbling to the ground once again. He landed on his side and when he managed to get up into a seating position, Louis was yelling, his face contorted in anger.  

“You better get into that car yourself, before I break every bone in your fucking body!”   

Liam stood right behind Louis, as his back-up and Paul seemed to realise he was outnumbered.  

“Fuck you!”, he spat out, but banged the door of his backseat shut, opening the driver's side and got in quickly. The motor roared to life and hands where gripping Harry under his arms to pull him out of the way, when the car sped away.   

What did just happen?   

“What the hell?”, Harry shouted, struggling to his feet and out of Liam’s grasp. He fixed both men with his gaze, feeling a mixture of anger and total, overwhelming confusion.   

Louis held up his hands in a placating manner. “Calm down, Harry. We want to help you.”   

“You’re not helping me!”, Harry choked out, wiping furiously at his eyes, because they decided now was a good time to overproduce moisture. “I needed that money!”   

Louis face fell a bit, but he still shook his head. “No you don’t. You don’t have to go back, Harry. I’ll help you. We can go to the police and you can report whoever is pressuring you into this.”   

Harry fisted his hair in frustration. “You don’t know anything! You can’t help me!”   

“Calm down, please, Harry.”, Louis pleaded, but Harry shook his head and stumbled backwards, because it made his head spin so badly.   

“No! You don’t understand! Please, just leave me alone. I need to make more money! He-“ He shut himself up. He couldn’t speak about Simon.   

“Please, Harry. I can give you money, if it’s about that. But please, come back to my place. You need to rest! You’re injured.”  

An icy feeling made Harry’s stomach freeze. Louis wanted to give Harry money? For what? He obviously knew by now that Harry was a whore. Did he want to use Harry now too?   

“I- I don’t want- Please, you have been so nice to me. I can’t, not with you.” It would feel so utterly wrong. Louis had been the first person to be really nice to him, without expecting something in return, in years! It made Harry hope for... something. But if Louis turned out to be like all the other men, using Harry for a quick fuck, it would break him even more than he already was.  

“What? No, not like that, Harry. I’ll just give you money. You don’t have to do anything. Here.” Louis got his wallet out of his back pocket. “How much do you need? I have... 200 with me. If you need more, I have more at home. Here, take it. But please come with back home with me.”   

Harry stared at the wad of cash Louis held out for him so willingly. 200 was nearly enough. His pride was fighting the part of him that was scared to go home without the money and so, really slowly, he raised his hand and took it. “I need 300.”, he admitted in a small voice.  

“I’ll give you another hundred at home then. Come on. You can barely stand on your own two feet.” Louis sounded so sincere, Harry couldn’t fathom he would lie and do something to Harry. It also wouldn’t fit to the fact that he already helped Harry twice.   

For those reasons, Harry gave in. He let himself be guided away, back to Louis place. They didn’t talk and once they reached Louis apartment, Liam patted Harry on the shoulder and bid goodbye to him.  

Harry didn’t question why Liam was leaving, feeling like his brain was wrapped in cotton by now. Cotton with spikes in it.   

After Louis hugged Liam, they went up to his flat, taking the lift again. It wasn’t long until Harry was sat down on Louis' sofa, a cup of tea in his hand and a concerned looking Louis next to him.   

“Okay, Harry... uhm, is that your name by the way? Your real one?”   

 The one in question, seized Louis up for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yes, that’s my real name.”   

“That’s good.”, Louis smiled. “Harry, I really would like to help you.”   

That made Harry frown and shake his head, although he did it tentatively to avoid another dizzy-spell. “I don’t think you can.”   

Louis picked up his own cup and took a sip. “And why is that? I mean, we can go to the police. Or you even could just stay here. Simply don’t go back. Easy as that.”   

A mirthless laugh climbed up in Harry’s chest. “Nothing about it is easy. ”   

“Maybe you could tell me what’s not easy about it and we'll go from there?”   

The boy put his cup down, to have his hands free to run them over his face. “I... Why should I tell you?”   

Now it was Louis turn to give off a unhappy laugh. “Because I'm offering you a way out and you obviously need one.”   

That stung a bit, but it was the truth. Harry needed a way out or one day in the near future he’d end up dead. “It’s not a pretty story.”  

“I don’t expect a fairy-tale.”   

Harry kept quiet for a minute, looking around the flat, taking in minor details, like the small stain in the carpet that lay before the couch, or the cactus on the windowsill, that hung to the side, like it got to heavy for the little bit of soil it clung to. A human lived here. A good one too, if Harry looked on all the things Louis did for him already. Maybe it was worth a try, even though he didn’t allow himself to hope.  

“If I tell you the story, I'll do it in one go. No questions or interruptions until the end.”   

Louis nodded solemnly. “Of course.”   

“Alright.” He took a deep breath and chose to look at the carpet, because he didn’t want to see Louis' reactions. “It all started when I was sixteen.” Here he could hear Louis gasp. “My sister gifted me tickets to a Coldplay concert here in London for my birthday. We had a room in a hotel for one night, because it would’ve been way to late and far to drive back home. It all seemed like the biggest adventure. After the concert, we left the arena and tried to get back to our hotel. Public transport was swamped and we decided to leg it, because we thought it would be faster. I think my sister typed in the wrong address in google maps, but somehow we ended up in a completely wrong part of the city and when she realised her mistake, we had to walk back quite a bit. When we thought we were on the right way, a van held next to us. We didn’t thought any of it, but...” Harry stocked, hating to remember that moment. Because if they hadn’t been there at this moment, they would have gone to their hotel and back home the next day, going on with their lives, remembering the concert in London as something awesome and special. “Two men got out of the back and I think they used chloroform, because I only remember struggling for a second and then I passed out. Gemma and I woke up in a room with three other girls. We were all so scared and one of them wouldn’t stop crying. After some time, we all wished she’d shut up. Well, and then a man came in and brought us up to a room. He pointed a gun at us, so no one tried to escape really. We had to form a line in a fancy room and then some important looking people came in. It was like an auction basically. They all inspected us like cattle and then we were up for sale. Simon bought both me and my sister. In that moment we were almost happy, because this way we stayed together at least. We were brought to a house and there... Simon told us that we were now his property and worked for him now. If we didn’t do as he said, the other would get punished. It’s really clever to do it like that, you know. I would do anything so Gemma won’t get hurt and it’s the same the other way around. Simon decided he liked me best and called his associate Jeffrey to take Gemma away. I now know she is in a different house in London, but no one ever told me where exactly. Well... After that Simon made sure I was... ready for the job. I was a virgin, you see. And you can’t send a virgin to go on the game, right? So my first time was bend over his desk."

Harry's throat closed up a bit and he needed to clear his throat. "And then he asked his cronies to break me in. I had to learn fast, because if I didn’t, I'd get punished. And one time when I refused to... you know, open my legs, they send a video of Gemma getting slapped around and... I realised I had to protect her. So I did everything they said. After a few weeks, Simon decided I was ready. But they don’t just send you out on the street. They know exactly where I am, every second of every day.” Harry decided to simply show Louis and started to unbutton the last of his buttons on his blouse and shrugged it of his shoulder. Then he turned his back to Louis.  

There was another gasp, but this one was louder than before. “What is that?!”   

Harry knew what Louis looked at. Just over his left shoulder blade there was an ugly scarred elevation in his skin, a round silver thing, the size of a penny poking out.   

“It’s my GPS tracker.”   

He heard Louis shuffle a bit nearer. “Oh my god! Harry, that looks... how did they get this in there? It’s so big!”   

“Yeah, a doctor came and put it in. You wouldn’t expect how many people from all kinds of different ranks are involved in this shit. And it’s so big, because it has a storage battery. You can load it up via this silver plate you can see.” Harry reached back to point at it.  

“Fuck! It looks like it was inflamed a lot! There is so much scarring.”  

“Yeah, it was bad a couple of times, but it’s good now for a while. Almost don’t feel it anymore.”   

“I hardly believe that.”   

“You know the effect when you’re in pain and you bite you’re finger and the other pain goes away because you’re brain is concentrated on your finger? It’s like that.”   

“Oh...”   

Harry shrugged his blouse back over his shoulder, buttoning it back up. “Do you understand now, why it’s not easy? They have my sister. And they know where I am. They'll kill her if I don’t come back and if I go to the police, they'll know and kill her.” Now he finally looked up at Louis again, who sat there, his face as white as the wall of his flat and his eyes glistened.

“I’m so, so sorry, Harry. For what happened to you. You were so young. And... fuck.” Louis blinked rapidly and looked up at the ceiling.  

“Yeah...”   

“What if I go to the police? They don’t know about me. I’ll make sure they know about your sister and that she’ll get rescued too.”   

Harry stared at Louis. It never accrued to him that someone else would go to the police for him. “But what if you talk to the wrong officer? I think I slept with at least three higher ranking men working at the Met.”   

“Just because they slept with you, doesn’t mean they're involved.”   

“Oh really? One of them fucked me right in Simon's office. It was a thank you from Simon for some help by said officer.”, Harry replied dryly.   

Louis pressed his lips together, obviously not happy about hearing crude statements like this.   

“It won’t matter. I know that there is one I can trust.”   

Harry gave Louis a sceptical look.   

“No, really. I would trust him with my life. He's a good friend of mine.”   

“A friend?”   

Louis smiled a tiny bit. “Yes, a friend. I know him for forever and he'll help us, I promise you.”   

Harry stared into the doctor's face, unsure how to feel. It all sounded too good. It had been 4 years in which he never even dared to hope to escape and now someone was saying that there was an actual chance to not only save him, but also his sister.   

“Promise me something else instead. Tell them if they have to choose, they have to save my sister.”   

Louis' jaw tightened as he heard that. “Harry-“  

“No!”, Harry interrupted. “Promise me you'll tell them that, or I won’t let you help me. Please. I can’t do this unless I know Gemma will be fine.”   

A long sigh was all Harry got out of Louis for a few seconds, but then the doctor nodded. “Alright. I promise, Harry.”   

“Good. What do you need to know... you know, to tell your friend?”   

Louis face lit up. “Right! Wait, I need some paper and a pen!” He retrieved something to write with quickly and then sat down, letting the pen hover over the paper. “Tell me your full name please.”  

“Harry Edward Styles.”   

“Date of birth?”   

“The first of February 2003.”   

“Where were you born?”   

“In Redditch.”   

“And your sister?”   

“Gemma Anne Styles, born on the 3 rd of December 1999 in Redditch.”   

Now Louis looked up, seemingly hesitating. “And... what about family? Is there anyone looking for you?”   

Harry felt his throat close up and when he spoke it sounded croaky. “I bet my mom searched for us. My dad probably, too. They are divorced, but they are still our parents.”  

“What are their names?”   

“You have to make another promise.”, Harry said, wringing his hands nervously.  

“What?”  

“No one can tell our parents we're still alive until we got out. They probably made their peace by now, thinking that we're dead and it would be... unnecessarily cruel to tell them were alive, only to learn we didn’t survive the rescue attempt.”   

The older man’s face fell. “Do you really think they’ll kill you?”   

Harry pressed his lips together and nodded. He knew it. “You don’t know what they’re capable of.”   

Louis groaned and put his pen down. “I just want to help.”   

“And maybe you will. It'll end either way and maybe... even dying will be better than going on like this.”   

The other man looked like he wanted to hug Harry, but then refrained from doing so. “What happened after you came to the hospital? Did they know?”   

“Oh, yeah they did know. And I don’t think you want to hear this kind of stuff.”   

But Louis shook his head urgently. “You can talk to me, Harry. The more I know, the better. I can tell all this to the police.”   

The boy considered this for a moment. If Louis really wanted to know. “Simon likes to give me cigarette burns. So it was that and afterwards, he made Ewan beat me to a pulp.”   

“But you were already injured!”   

“No shit, Sherlock. Simon had a good look at your handiwork and said I couldn’t work for a week because no customer wants to see something ugly like that. So he punished me, because if I can’t work I don’t make him any money.”   

The doctor rubbed over his eyes. “Alright, alright... how many are in that house with you? I mean there are others right?”   

“We're eight in total, two guys and six girls. I don’t know how many are at the other house, where Gem’s at.”   

Louis noted that down as well. “Okay, what’s the address of your house?”   

Harry told him that as well.   

“Are you okay, staying so long at my place? I mean, they can see that right?”   

“They're probably wondering what is happening, but I’m still in my designated area and if I come back with enough, it'll be okay I think.”   

“I’ll give you more later, promise.”, Louis said seriously. “So you have a designated area you’re supposed to work in?”   

“Yep. Only Soho and Mayfair. Before... uhm, before I met you the first time in the A&E, I didn’t work streets for quite a time. I was doing pre-arranged jobs in hotel rooms. I liked that better, because I knew what I was in for most of the time. It was less dangerous.”   

Louis gave him an incredulous stare. “Harry, you came to me barely able to walk or sit down.”   

“Uhm...” He only now realised how stupid this must've sounded to Louis. “Yeah, but you saw what happened on the street today. It happens much more frequently than at hotel jobs.”   

Louis still looked like he didn’t believe a single word of that. “Okay if you say so. And why aren’t you working in hotels anymore?”   

“Simon is still punishing me. I think he felt like I got insubordinate or something and... it’s his way to make sure I get back on track.”   

Then suddenly Louis face looked like he'd seen a ghost. “Harry?”   

“Yes?”   

“Can I ask you a personal question?”  

Harry frowned. “I think you've seen enough of me to gain that right, Louis.”   

Still Louis hesitated, but then he asked: “Are you even gay?”   

The absurdity of that question made Harry laugh. Actually laugh.  It made his opposite gawk at him.  When he regained control, holding his head a bit, because laughing was a shit idea with a concussion, he tried to answer. “Does it even matter? Do you think if I was gay, I would enjoy it?”   

Louis pulled a face and then shook his head. “No of course not. That was a dumb question, I apologise.”   

“It’s okay.”   

“No it’s not, but thanks.”   

There was a moment of awkward silence.   

“Is there anyway I can contact you?”, Louis eventually broke the silence.   

“No, I don't think so. I don't have a phone and if they found one on me or in my room... Too dangerous.”  

“Hmm...", Louis made, scrunching up his face, thinking very hard. "Do you always work Soho?”  

“No but often.”   

“When you do, will you be able to come to my place? I'll give you money. You wouldn’t have to work and I could keep you updated concerning the rescue mission.”  

“Louis you can’t give me so much money!”, he protested. That idea was crazy. “I have to bring home at least 400 pounds, better 500. I don’t think even a doctor makes so much money.”   

“I don’t care, Harry. I’ll give you the money. I have some money put aside.”  

That was absolutely out of the question and Harry told him as much. “I can come after I reach my quota.”   

The thought seemed to make Louis a bit queasy. “I don’t... I don’t want you to have to do that.”  

Harry chuckled, but this time it was as mirthless as could be. “Me neither, but it’s okay.”   

“So you'll come here?”   

“Yes. You can patch me up again if I’m hurt.” It was a terrible joke and he realised it when he saw how Louis pulled down the corners of his mouth.   

“I won’t be here every night, because I have to work nights too sometimes. But... I’ll see what I can do about that.”   

Harry nodded. “I’m really tired and my head hurts like a bitch.”, he confessed.  

“I can give you paracetamol if you want.”   

Harry shook his head. If he got home, there would be better things to cure his pain.   

“Harry, you don’t have to be in pain. Come on, I’ll get you a pill.”   

He bit his lip because he didn’t actually want to say that he’d rather snort some oxy at home. “Uhm, yeah, sure okay.”   

Louis was gone for a moment and returned with a blister of pills. “Here, you can take that with you. I- uh, I don’t know if you have medication at your place.”  

“The place is full of ‘medication’, don’t worry.”, he reassured Louis dryly. “Thank you.” He took the blister and popped a pill out, swallowing it with the last of his tea.   

“And how should I understand that?”, the doctor asked, as he sat down again.   

Harry smiled wryly. “I can hardly imagine it comes as a shock if I tell you drugs are involved.”   

Louis frowned a bit and gave Harry an appraising look. “Are you doing drugs?”   

Harry shrugged, getting very interested in his own cuticles. “I wouldn’t consider myself an addict, if that’s what you’re asking. But sometimes I need them to get through it all.”   

For a moment, there was no noise but the ticking of the clock on the wall, but eventually Louis sighed. “I can hardly blame you for that. What kind of drugs?”   

Harry felt ashamed of himself again. In the beginning, he had tried so hard to stay clean, but after a while, he somehow forgot why he should stay away from drugs. “Uhm... mostly oxy and coke.”   

“No heroin or stuff like that?”   

Harry turned his face away, fighting off bad memories. “Simon once let his cronies hold me down and he stuck a needle into my arm.” He rubbed over the crook of his right arm. “I think it was smack. I was high out of my mind and when I came down I wanted that feeling back. But my room mate, Brad, he slapped me in the face and told me if I went back to Simon to beg for more, I'd be lost. Also I'd have done exactly what Simon wanted. That way I would’ve been his completely.”   

“He injected you with heroin against your will?” Louis was massaging his temples like he too was getting a headache.   

“Yeah. That’s one way how he keeps his property in check. He makes them addicted to something and then provides them with barely enough to satisfy their cravings. But the girls have other ways of getting their shit if they need more.”  

“Huh?”, Louis made absentmindedly.   

“The watchdogs – that’s what we call Simon's security for the house – they are willing to get you more of your drug of choice if you're nice to them.”   

Now Louis looked like he regretted that he asked. “Oh... and uh, do you, uhm...?”   

Harry averted his gaze again. “The night-dog, Ewan, is too hetero for that.” He left it at that, because he didn’t care to tell Louis that he offered sexual favours to other people in the house, when he needed a pick-me-up and there was no coke in sight, or when he desperately needed a pair of new jeans and he had already spent all his allowance on food. Harry wasn’t a saint, but he was aware of the fact that what he did was bad and the general public would look down at him in disgust.   

“Sorry, I didn’t want to insinuate that you do that of course.”   

Harry stayed quiet and it was probably way too obvious what this absence of a denial meant.   

“Do you have everything that you need to know? I think I should go now.”   

“Uhm...” Louis looked down at his notes. “You never told me your parents names.”   

“Oh yeah, right. It’s Desmond Styles and Anne Cox... if she didn’t marry Robin by now... then it may be Anne Twist, I don’t know.” The fact that he didn’t know his mother's last name for sure made his chest hurt with sadness.   

“Okay, maybe I can tell you the next time we see each other, if you want to.”  

Harry looked up with a sad smile and then let his eyes flick to the door. “I should go.”   

“Wait!”, Louis exclaimed and abruptly stood up which made Harry flinch. “Sorry. I still need to give you the rest of your money.”   

Harry huffed out a mirthless and very short laugh. “It’s not my money, is it? I didn’t earn it.”   

Louis fixated him with a stern look in his blue eyes. “And you don’t have to. It’s a gift and I don’t expect anything for it, Harry.”   

“After all I’ve seen, that is very hard to understand or believe.”   

“I know.” Louis looked sad when he left the room and returned with another two fifty pounds in his hand.   

“Here.”  

Harry took it and put it in his sock, where the rest of his cash was already stowed. “Thank you, Louis. Really.”   

“Uhm, I have a spare purse if you want to have it.” Louis pointed at the bit of sock that poked out of Harry’s beaten up boots.   

“Uhm, no. Thanks. Wallets get stolen. But thanks. For everything.”   

Louis stood there and watched Harry stand up shakily. “Are you sure you'll make it home like this? I can drive you home...”   

“No that would be way to obvious on the GPS. I’ll be fine.”   

Louis made a face, like he just remembered the terrible device implanted on Harry’s back. “Yeah, sure. You’re right. But you will come back, will you?”  

“I can’t promise anything, because I never know what Simon plans for me, but I’ll do my best.”   

And so they said goodbye. Louis put his hand on Harry’s lower arm briefly, looking at him like he wanted to say more than ‘goodbye and hopefully see you again’. But then he smiled sadly and let Harry go.   

Chapter Text

Harry didn’t manage to return to Louis' place for two whole weeks. First Simon took Harry and Olivia with him to a party, where they were the entertainment for the evening. Then Harry got punished for mouthing off to one of the party guests, because the man made all sorts of comments that he knew his sister and enjoyed her a few months back. That lead to Harry sporting a black and blue face and several new cigarette burns. Harry wasn’t allowed to go out after this for four nights. Every one of those four nights, he spent in Simons office, kneeling by his side like a pet, having to offer his hand as an ashtray. When he was back on the streets, the area of Hammersmith was assigned to him for a bit over a week. He was getting anxious that Simon maybe knew something and didn’t let Harry go back to Soho because of that, but then finally, Ewan told him that he was to go to Soho this evening. It was hard not too look happy, but it was common for Harry to keep his head lowered, so no one saw the hint of a smile on his face.  

The thing was, he had to reach his quota, before he went to Louis' flat, because Harry absolutely would not take any more money from this man. And he had to be quick, so it wouldn’t be all too late. He was nervous too, because what if Louis wasn’t even home tonight? Maybe he was at work, or he was out? Maybe he gave up on Harry all together, because he didn’t hear from him in the last two weeks?  

Nonetheless, Harry wanted to try. So he put on his seductive face and went on the pull. After 3 fucks and 3 blowies in alleyways and cars, he had his money. The second punter had paid double to slap him around a bit, but it wasn’t too bad. He only used his open palm. What was worse, was that the last one took off his condom mid-fuck. Harry only realised it, when the dude came inside of him.  

It wasn’t the first time this happened and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Harry was always scared he had some kind of STD and if he was honest with himself, there was a fat chance he had one. Most of the blowjobs he gave were without a condom, so that was risky already. And then there were those arseholes, who refused to put on a condom or simply took it off like tonight.  

The feeling of that stranger’s cum leaking out of him, made him feel disgusted of himself. He was so dirty, inside and out.  

His feet took him to Louis' flat and he stood there for a moment. Maybe he should better go home and have a shower, instead of meeting the doctor tonight. But what if Simon changed his area again tomorrow? He didn’t know when his next chance to meet Louis was! He had to take this opportunity.  

He made an attempt to fix his clothes and hair, but then gave up. Louis knew that Harry was a whore and that he had been to work. There was no use in hiding it.   

He pressed the doorbell of Louis’ flat and waited. For a minute, nothing happened and Harry felt more and more disappointed until there was suddenly a crackling sound and Louis voice over the intercom. “Hello?”   

“Hi. It’s Harry.” Shit he sounded hoarse.   

“Harry!”, Louis gasped and then the buzzer of the door rang. The boy quickly pushed open the door and went straight for the lift.   

Louis awaited him in his open door, wringing his hands. He wore an extremely comfy looking green jumper and trackies. His fringe was down, giving him a softer look that Harry liked very much. The two times Harry saw him before, Louis had always worn his hair up in a quiff. But this was apparently what Louis looked like when he was at home and it made the boy feel even more like an intruder.  

 Harry noticed how Louis looked him up and down, obviously checking him for injuries.   

When he finally stood before Louis, the doctor stepped aside to let him in and quickly closed the door.   

“Fuck, Harry, where have you been? I've been worried sick!” The outburst made Harry flinch.  

“Sorry.”, they said in unison, for completely different reasons.   

Louis sighed and rubbed over his face. “No, sorry. I know that I’m loud sometimes, sorry. Are you alright?”   

Harry stared at Louis and he was struck again by this man's honest concern for him. He didn’t deserve that. He still felt cum between his bum cheeks, tasted it on his tongue too. He was dirty. He was nothing to be concerned about. Those thoughts were getting louder and louder and suddenly, he was crying.  It was probably a mixture of feeling like the dirtiest piece of shit to ever walk this earth and the relieve that Louis was actually at home. Whatever it was, it was too much to be contained inside and it spilled out of Harry’s eyes instead.   

Louis took a step in his direction, his hand raised as if he wanted to touch, but he flinched back again.   

“Harry, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you, I promise!”   

The boy shook his head. “N-no. You're so clean and I- I’ll get you dirty.”   

“Fuck this, Harry. I don’t care!” Again Louis stepped nearer and reached out for him, like he wanted to hug. Harry stumbled backwards, until his back met the wooden door. There, he hid his face in his hands. “Please, Louis. Don’t.”  

When he peaked through his fingers, the older man stood there, looking absolutely lost, but he raised his hands and said: “Okay, sorry. Of course I won’t touch you without your permission. Never. Please, come inside.”   

It took Harry a few moments, but then he put his hands down and followed Louis into the living room. The man gestured at his sofa. “Please, sit down. I’ll make us a cuppa, yeah?”   

Harry stared at the offered seat and pressed his lips together.   

“What? Are you okay, Harry? Are you injured again?” Of course, this would be Louis’ first guess. The last time Harry showed a reluctance to sit down, he needed to be stitched up.   

Harry let his head hang in shame and shook it. “I don’t want to get it dirty.”   

“Stop this nonsense, Harry. You’re not dirty. Sit down, the sofa will be fine.”  

“No, uhm, really. I’ll get it dirty. I c-can stand, or uhm... I don’t know, I can stand.”   

Louis came back from where he had been about to go to his kitchen island. “Harry, are you sure you're okay? Are you bleeding again?” The doctor had changed his tone completely. Where he had been firm before, he was now gentle.   

Harry let his head hang even more to hide his red cheeks and the tears that were still occasionally rolling out of his eyes. “It’s not blood.” He hated it with every particle of his being that he had to tell Louis this bit.   

“If it’s not blood, then- oh. Oh, no. Fuck.” Louis cursed a bit more, before he closed the distance between them. “Alright, you can take a shower. I’ll get you clean clothes and then we sit down, how about that, hm?”   

Harry dared to look up a bit and was met with Louis’ soft expression. Where he expected disgust, there was only kindness mixed with a hint of sadness. “You would let me use your shower?”   

Now Louis looked confused. “Yes of course! Why not! Come on, I’ll give you a towel and fresh clothes.”   

Perplexed by this turn of events, Harry simply followed Louis over to a door. Only when Louis switched on the light, Harry realised that he just stepped inside of Louis' bedroom.   

In the second he stayed in there, he saw that it looked incredibly cosy. A huge bed dominated the middle of the room, one side of the thick blanket flipped over, like Louis just got out of it. It was held in soft grey's and whites, creating a calming atmosphere. But it didn’t calm Harry. Once he realised he just intruded the doctor's private space, he gasped a bit and hurried back out into the living room. He waited for Louis by the door, his gaze turned away, so the older man wouldn’t consider Harry as rude or nosy.  

“Here. It’s just shorts and a jumper and they maybe a bit short, but I reckoned you can’t go home in them anyways, right?”   

That was very true. If Harry turned up in somebody else’s clothes, it would raise to many eyebrows. “True.”   

“Okay. Towel as well. You can use all my stuff in the shower. I think you’re all set.”  

“Thank you.”  

“No worries. I’ll make tea in the meantime. Want something to eat as well?”  

He shook his head, because it felt like asking for too much if he also said yes to food.   

“No? Not hungry?”  

“I’m fine, thanks.”, Harry lied, even though he only had shared a can of baked beans with Brad earlier in the evening. Simon had cut his allowance, which made it difficult to get enough food.   

“Okay. Off you go then.”   

Harry still knew where the bathroom was from his last visit. It still made his jaw drop. Sometimes, he could use the bathroom in a hotel room, when he met a punter there, and almost all of them had been nicer than the dirty one at home. But the fact that this wasn’t a hotel, but a part of someone’s actual home, was fascinating after living so long in the shithole that Harry was forced to call home.  

He locked the door, even though he was sure Louis wouldn’t come in, but it made him feel... Well, it was nice to be able to lock a door for once. The only locks that existed in the house in Hackney, were on the front door, Simon’s office and private rooms and on the outside of the other bedrooms.   

Harry quickly stripped out of his clothes, cringing when he saw the wet patch in his jeans. He swiftly folded them up and put them aside, along with his shirt, socks, including his money, and boots.   

As he entered the huge shower, he took in the assortment of shampoos, conditioners, shower gels and face washs. None of them seemed to be the cheap kind from Tesco and Harry almost felt giddy at the opportunity to use them. Almost, because the reason he was in here, put a damper on everything.   

He turned on the water, getting it to a nice and hot temperature. The water pressure was so nice, it gave him goosebumps, but the good kind.   

He cleaned himself religiously, but he knew that this wouldn’t help much regarding STD's. But at least he wouldn’t get Louis' sofa dirty.   

Still, when he got out of the shower, he felt marginally better.   

Louis shorts were a bit shorter than normal on Harry, but the jumper fit him quite fell. It had a soft lavender colour and was incredibly soft to the touch. It almost made Harry smile when he imagined Louis wearing this piece of clothing.   

He combed through his wet curls with his fingers and then left the bathroom.   

Louis was still over at his kitchen island, flipping something over in a pan. It smelled delicious. The man looked up from his work, when he heard Harry enter and he got a weird expression on his face.   

Self-consciously, Harry tugged at the jumper’s hem, making sure everything was in place.   

Luckily, Louis smiled then. “Hope you feel better now. That jumper suits you way better than me by the way.”   

“Oh... uhm, it’s a really pretty jumper.”   

“Yup, very fitting for you.”, Louis nodded, still smiling and for a second Harry was under the impression that Louis flirted with him. But that was absurd! Why would someone like Louis flirt with a prostitute? Nope, totally preposterous in his opinion.   

“I've made you an omelette. I know you said you’re not hungry, but I think you should eat anyways. You’re looking thin.”   

“You made me- what?” Harry was gobsmacked.   

Louis chuckled and took the pan off the stove to let the omelette slide onto a plate, which lay ready on the counter next to him. “An omelette. Honestly, I’m shit at cooking, but omelettes are easy enough.”   

“You didn’t have to- I mean, aren’t you hungry? I can’t eat your food.”   

Louis drew up a single eyebrow. “You can’t eat my food?”   

Harry realised how rude he sounded. “I mean, I don't want to- I just don’t want to make you do so much for me.”   

Now Louis shook his head, a little smile back in his lips. “It’s already done. Now, can we stop this silly discussion and will you eat it?”   

Harry bowed his head in submission, a habit he adapted over the years, when someone told him to do stuff. “Yes. Thank you.”   

Louis sat him down at the small dining table in the corner of the living room, putting a glass of coke for each of them on the table as well.   

Harry tried very hard not to gobble the omelette down like a half-starved animal, but one it tasted really good, as it had fresh bell pepper and mushrooms in it, and two he was starved.   

“Jesus, Harry when did you eat last?”, Louis laughed, but the laugh didn’t quite hide his concern.  

Harry looked up, feeling caught. “Uhm... I had baked beans this evening.” That wasn’t a lie.  

“Wasn’t enough, huh?”   

Harry swallowed another bite, before answering. “Uhm, I shared it with my roommate. Simon is punishing me again and cut my allowance, so uhm, money is a bit tight right now.”   

“Shit, Harry. Is that enough?” Louis pointed at Harry’s plate, which only contained scraps by now. “I can make you another!”   

Harry shook his head and leaned back in his seat. “No, I’m full. But thank you it tasted so good! Best food I had in years!”   

Somehow that made Louis look sad. “That was only an omelette and it was made by me. Can’t be that great.”   

“Best food I had in years.”, Harry repeated, trying to give Louis a grateful smile.   

The doctor still looked sad, but then shook his head as if he had to chase away some thoughts that were bothering him. “You said Simon is punishing you again? For what?”   

Harry sighed, putting his hands around his sparkling glass of coke. He gave a brief summary of the last two weeks and again the older man seemed to regret that he even asked.   

“Shit...”, Louis sighed. “But this will end soon, Harry. I talked to my friend.”   

Harry's head snapped up. He almost forgot the real reason why he was even here. “You did?”   

Louis scoffed. “Of course I did. Right the next day after I saw you last. He rolled up your case again, but in secret and he only let some people he trusts in on it. He said if higher ranking police and stuff is involved it will be a hard bit of work, but he promised he'll do his best to get you and your sister out of there.”   

Harry stared at Louis for a while, his mind completely blank. Then he had to blink a lot, because tears were affecting his sight. Never in a million years, he would have thought that he'd hear those words. A police officer knew about him. He was working on his case and as it seemed Simon was none the wiser right now. If Simon knew, Harry would be dead already.  

A sob broke out of him, so suddenly and hard , it physically hurt his chest.   

Louis stood up immediately, helplessness written over his face. “Harry, shit...” He came to a halt next to the boy, his hands half-raised. “Can I hug you?”   

First, Harry shook his head automatically, but then... He felt like his chest was falling apart with each sob that was shaking his body. Maybe a hug could hold him together? So he changed the motion midways and nodded, turning in his seat.   

And then he was embraced by arms. Those arms were so unfamiliar, but at the same time, felt like... a friend? Maybe it was just the fact that this was the first real hug he received in years, but it felt like coming home. He felt like he was coming home after years of being lost.   

Louis squeezed him tightly, murmuring soothing words into Harry’s damp locks, one of his hands on the back of his neck, just like his mum always had done.  

They stayed like this for quite some minutes, even though Harry was sure that Louis must be uncomfortable in his crouched position. But he was selfish just this one time, soaking up the feeling of being held.   

When he could finally breathe again, without hiccupping too badly, he let his own hands fall from Louis' back and the older man took the hint and took a step back.   

“Thank you.”, he sniffed.  

Louis’ was a bit red, like he had also felt some strong emotions just now. But still, the man smiled. “I think we both needed that.” He let out a long sigh and dragged his right hand through his hair, which left it in a bit of a mess. “Phew... want some tea?”  

Harry quickly looked at the clock on the wall, then shook his head. “I can’t stay too long. If I’m supposed to come back here, I can’t stay here for too long, or otherwise they'll get suspicious.”   

“Right. Do you think you can come back tomorrow? I could come downstairs and maybe I could arrange for my friend to meet us and tell you how the investigation is going. And I’m sure he has a lot of questions.”   

Harry bit his lip. “You know I can’t promise that. But I think the chances are quite high. He usually gives me one area for a couple of days in a row.”   

Louis nodded quickly. “Yes, okay, we can work with that. But maybe I can give you money tomorrow, so you can be here earlier? Just tomorrow!”, Louis insisted as he saw Harry’s defensive expression. “You know, so my friend doesn’t need to wait too long.”  

Harry considered this. Louis reasoning sounded valid to him. Like this, he had more time to talk to the police officer. “Okay. But this is the last time I'm going to accept your money. I can’t pay you back as it is.”  

“I never asked you to pay me back. What time do you think you can be here?”   

Harry scratched his head. “Uhm, maybe around half ten? They usually let me out around nine.”   

“Okay, that’s perfect.”   

“Uhm, okay. I'll, uh, change my clothes then.”   

Louis nodded and let Harry go into the bathroom, where Harry put his stained clothes on again with a heavy heart. He would miss the softness of this jumper. Also, his jeans were still damp with some strangers cum and that was disgusting in so many ways.  

He emerged back into the living room to Louis texting on his phone. Harry stood and waited politely until the doctor was done.  

“Alright, seems like my friend is free tomorrow night.”   

“Okay, that’s great.” He awkwardly played with his fingers. “Thank you, Louis. For everything. The shower and the food and helping me.”   

“I’m glad I can help. No need to thank me.”  

The boy took a moment to look at the man opposite him. He really was a good person. He was a doctor, saving lives on a daily basis and now he helped Harry, a prostitute he didn’t even know really.   

“Still, thank you, Louis.”, he said quietly, before he made his way to the door.

Chapter Text

It was hard, not to appear nervous, when he stood with Brad in a corner of the kitchen, all the chairs already occupied by the girls. While Olivia was screeching something at Cara, all Harry could think about was how he'd meet a police officer tonight.   

“H, here.”, Brad said and offered his can of cold ravioli to him. Harry took it gladly, because his stomach was aching already from being empty the whole day. He took a few bites and then handed the can back over. “Cheers.”   

“Think he'll give you money again soon?”, Brad inquired, as he scraped on the bottom of the can to get the last bits out.   

“Fuck do I know?”, Harry huffed. “He has to eventually, right? He can’t let me starve, can he?”   

“Wouldn’t put it past him actually.”  

Harry chortled unhappily. “We'll see. Maybe I can ask him tonight if I make enough money.” Harry knew he would definitely reach his quota tonight, because Louis promised to give him the money.   

“Good luck with that.”, Brad said, looking like he thought that was a really bad idea.   

But Harry had to try. It wasn’t like he'd be rescued tomorrow. He needed money for food and other stuff as well! He was almost out of condoms as well, and as they weren’t allowed to got to a clinic to pick up some for free, he had to buy them. And as everybody knew, one needed money to buy stuff.   

Harry stared around the kitchen, waiting for Ewan to show up to assign their jobs for the night. He fiddled with the hem of the shirt he put on. He tried his best to appear normal tonight, knowing that he wouldn’t need to work and also meet a friend of Louis'. Somehow it was important to him not to look foolish in front of people Louis counted as his friends. So he wore his black jeans, because they were the cleanest and a black shirt that wasn’t all too skimpy or sheer. He wished he could have worn his hoodie, but they wouldn’t let him go out like this. Not when he was supposed to be working.  

Heavy footsteps announced the arrival of Ewan and sure enough, the big hunk of a man appeared in the doorway.  

“Haud yer wheesht and listen!” He held a paper in his hand and he rattled down the jobs for everyone present.  

Harry felt major relief when Ewan said: “Harry: Soho and Mayfair.”   

Brad got assigned three hotel jobs for the night and the man let out a small groan.   

Harry shot him a look. If he wouldn’t know he'd meet Louis again tonight, he’d gladly swap places with him. Brad only had to fuck 3 men in some hotel rooms with an actual bed. Harry was assigned to work the freaking streets, having to suck cock and offer up his arse, until he had enough money in his sock.  

“Ewie, you said you’d give me my stuff before I go out.”, pouted Sally.   

Harry rolled his eyes at that, but held his tongue as Ewan threw a little baggie over to Sally who giggled and caught it, before she blew Ewan a kiss.  

It was annoying to watch stuff like that, because it was unfair. The girls had such an advantage around Ewan, just because they had boobs and a vagina.  

Harry got off the bus and headed towards Louis’ street. He felt nervous and paranoid. Every few steps he turned, checking the street behind him but there was no one following him. At least, he saw no one. He turned into the street Louis lived on and hurried towards the door to ring the bell.  

It didn’t take long for the intercom to crackle to life. “Hello?”   

A feeling of elation flooded Harry’s chest at hearing Louis’ voice answer. This was really happening.   

“Hi, uh, it’s Harry.”   

“We'll be down with you in a second!”   

We . So Louis' friend was already with him. Right now, Harry wished he hadn’t said no to Cara, when she offered Harry to share her joint. A bit of relaxation would have been great right now. But he figured that it would be better to turn up completely sober, especially when he took into consideration that he was meeting a man of the law.   

So, he was a fidgety mess, when the door opened and Louis and another man stepped out. For a second, Harry was blown away. The man by Louis side was beautiful. Dark hair and dark eyes, surrounded by coal black lashes. That man should rather be a model than a police officer.   

Then Harry turned his eyes back to Louis again and he realised, that even though the other man was undeniably pretty, he only felt that strange warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when he looked at Louis.   

The doctor smiled at him, holding a dark bundle in his hands.   

“Hey, Harry.” He then turned halfway, so he could motion between his friend and Harry. “Harry, meet Zayn. Zayn, this is Harry.”  

The latter didn’t expect to be offered a hand, so he stared at it for a second, before he shook it. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”   

“Hi. Nice to meet you, too.”   

“Great. Here, Harry.” Louis held out the dark bundle. “I reckoned you maybe wanted something to put on.”   

Harry’s cheeks got a bit hot as he took the offered black jumper from Louis’ hands, because it clearly insinuated that Louis thought Harry’s clothes were indecent. He had tried his best today.  

“Thanks.” He avoided eye contact with the two men, as he slipped into the thin jumper. It was obviously high quality, because it felt incredibly soft to the touch. Even though he felt ashamed that Louis thought this was necessary, he was also grateful, because now he probably looked like a normal person.   

“Louis said you’re wearing a tracker. We should move around a bit, so it won’t look suspicious.”, Zayn proposed and Harry nodded.   

“Yeah. Uhm, where to?”   

“Just the spots you normally go to.”   

“Oh, okay. Then let’s head this way.” He jerked his head into the direction of the pub around the corner.   

They walked a few steps, before Zayn looked over to Harry.   

“I found out a lot over the past two weeks. I have a small team, who I trust, on your case and from research and a lot of observations we learned a lot. We know where your sister is-“  

“Where is she?”, Harry asked urgently, not caring that he interrupted Zayn.  

Zayn smiled, like he didn’t mind. “The house is located in the north of Croydon.”   

“Croydon?”, Harry choked out. It wasn’t like that was very far away. She’d been there the whole time and he simply didn’t know. “Do- Do you know how she is? Has somebody seen her?”   

Zayn nodded, grabbing his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. He tapped a few times and then held his phone out for Harry to take.  

The boy stopped in his tracks and looked at the screen.   

The pictures were taken from some distance, but it was Gemma without a doubt. Her hair was darker than before, not really blond anymore and her face was slimmer, as was her whole body. She wore a very short blue skirt, a black crop top and heeled boots. It was not her style at all, but still Harry could recognise her no matter what.   

The picture got blurry in front of him, because tears where shooting into his eyes. “I- What do you know about her? What- Where did she go? What are they making her do?”   

A comforting hand came to rest on his arm and when he blinked and looked to the side, he saw that it was Louis, his face full of compassion.   

“She was on her way to a bus station. The officer, who took this picture, followed her to a hotel in Kensington. He could also confirm that she seems to have the same implant on her shoulder as you have, so she gets tracked as well.”  

Hotel jobs. It wasn’t really a relief to know that she was meeting punters in hotel rooms, but at least she wasn’t out on the streets. “O-okay.”, Harry sniffed, handing Zayn his phone back.   

“We’re staking out both of the houses and are trying to investigate who is involved, especially people in the law enforcement and politics. Louis said you told him you- uh, encountered some of them?”  

Harry let out a mirthless chuckle and resumed walking, leading them to a back alley near the pub. There they could stay a while without being suspicious to the person who kept track of Harry. “Yes, I did encounter a few.”   

“Would you be able to identify them, if I showed you pictures? We really need to know who we can trust.”   

“Well, just because they haven’t fucked me , doesn’t really mean they aren’t involved, does it? Not all of them are gay.”, he pointed out.   

“That’s true of course, but right now, you are our only direct source of information.”   

Harry mulled that over for a bit. It seemed like Zayn was right. “I can try and identify them, yes. I mean... I haven’t always been, uhm... completely sober, so my memories are... and I've met some of them years ago... but I can try.”   

Zayn nodded, his face serious. “Don’t worry about incriminating yourself, Harry. This here isn’t an official inquiry and even if it were, I'm not interested in convicting you, just because you may have done some drugs.”   

They boy looked between Louis and Zayn, trying to figure out if Zayn was telling the truth. Louis seemed to pick up on it and gave Harry a reassuring smile. “You can trust him. I promise you, Harry.”   

He bit his lip but nodded. “Yeah, sorry. In the last years, I've got it branded on my mind to stay away from the police, let alone talk to them or trust them. Sorry.”   

“I understand, no worries.”, Zayn said as they reached the back alley. “Cosy.”, he commented.   

“Yes, I know. All lovely and romantic.”, Harry muttered, pushing his hands into his pockets.   

“Alright. Let’s get to it. I have a shitload of pictures of higher ranking people in the Met and politics I need to show you. Maybe you can recognise one or two. That alone would help us so much.”   

“I’ll try my best.”   

Zayn began to show Harry picture after picture and after a while, he started to question if he would even recognise one of them, let alone two. But then, there was a face that made his stomach twist. “Stop. Go back to the one before. Yes, this one. I know him. He's the one that was in Simon's office.”  

“Are you sure? This one?”, Zayn asked, looking at the picture with his eyebrows raised.   

“Yes, I am sure.” He shuddered, remembering how he had to ride this man on a chair inside Simon’s office.   

Zayn let out a long breath. “Okay. Shit. That’s Superintendent Bowler. Gladly, he isn't anywhere near my division. So, not too bad. But good to know, well done Harry. Are you good to go on, or do you need a break?”   

“I'm okay.”  

“Are you sure? You look a bit shaken.”, Louis said, sounding concerned.   

“I just don’t like remembering stuff like this. But it’s okay, I know it'll be worth it... hopefully.”   

“It will be worth it.”, Zayn affirmed.   

So Harry looked at all those faces and indeed he could identify two more. Another member of the police force and a person working in the Mayor’s Office for Policing and Crime.   

Zayn praised Harry’s ability to recognise them and then asked a whole bunch of questions about Simon, his cronies and the wheelings and dealings in the house.   

He noted everything down onto a little notepad, while they changed locations twice.   

“Okay, I think that’s it for now.”, Zayn sighed and clicked his pen.   

“What's the plan now?”, Harry asked, massaging his temples as he felt a headache coming on.   

“We have to investigate further, trying to gather as much information as we can before we act. Maybe we'll even sent someone in undercover. We have to be absolutely sure that we know about all the bad seeds in our force before we act and try to get you lot out. I know it’s much to ask, but I need you to stay patient. Contact Louis as often as you can. He will be our intermediary.”   

“Just make sure Gemma's safe.”  

Zayn nodded solemnly. “I will.”   

“Thank you, Zayn. I can’t even say how thankful I am, but... thank you.”   

“No need. It’s my job and also Louis here would kill me if I fucked this up.”   

Harry gave Louis a surprised look, as the doctor was getting a bit pink-faced.  

“Shut it, Malik.”  

Zayn grinned at his friend in a mocking manner. “Okay.”   

After that, the two friends said goodbye to each other and the police officer left. Louis looked at his watch. “Only a quarter to twelve. You’re not expected back yet, are you?”  

“No. I don’t think they would believe I could make 500 quid in two hours. But, uh, I can go to work now, that way you don’t have to give me as much.”  

Louis shook his head immediately. “That’s out of the question, Harry. You said you’d let me give you the money tonight, so I absolutely will. It’s your night off and we'll get something to eat now.”   

Harry pulled the corners of his mouth down. “I don’t want you to spent so much money on me, Louis.”   

“But I want to. You’re worth it, Harry.” Louis voice got so soft when he said that last bit.   

The boy didn’t know how to handle that. What did Louis mean by that? Why was he looking at Harry like that?  

“Why do you think that?”, Harry eventually asked, as he got his racing mind under control again.   

Louis smiled at Harry crookedly. “Because you're special, Harry. I knew the moment I first saw you in the A&E.”   

“What?” Harry was so confused. He and special? No way.   

But Louis just gave him a smile and then motioned with his head to his left. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat. Any preferences?”   

“Something with veggies.”, Harry blurted out.  

“Veggies? Really?” Louis looked surprised.   

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. Vegetables are expensive to buy, so I can’t really afford them.”   

The doctor’s face fell and he nodded. “Yeah, sure. Let’s get something healthy then.”   

They ended up buying wraps. Harry’s was filled with every veggie and salad that had been available in the restaurant, including some chicken breast. Louis chose one with minced beef and a chili sauce, topping it off with a lot of grated cheese.  

Harry found this endlessly amusing. “According to our food choices, I should be the doctor.” He held up his healthy wrap as proof.   

Louis chortled and pointedly bit into his own wrap. “I know, but I just looooove crappy food.”, he champed. “Let’s go sit over there?”   

They sat down on a bench, watching the people around them, while they munched on their food.  

After half his wrap, Harry had to chew a bit slower, because he ate to hastily and now he had a hard time breathing. That in combination with his runny nose, that plagued him on and off, for a bit over two months now, wasn’t all too good.   

He actually had to sit up and lean back to take a deep breath.  

Immediately, Louis looked at him with his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “What’s wrong?”  

“Nothing.”, Harry placated him. “I just ate to fast. Bit too greedy.”   

“Oh.”, Louis made. “How bad is it at the moment? At your... uhm, place I mean. Earlier you told Zayn that Simon doesn’t give you enough money at the moment?”   

Harry took a bite first, chewed and swallowed before answering. “Yeah... it’s just another way to punish me. To break me. I have to prioritise, you know. It’s either food or shampoo. Food or condoms... When I have to decide between keeping myself clean and protecting myself or eating, the choice isn’t all too hard.”   

“But... you have to buy condoms yourself?”, Louis asked flabbergasted. “They don’t give them to you?”   

Harry snorted into his wrap. “Of course not! They don’t give a fuck if we get sick.”   

“Do... Have you been tested? I mean, last time, you... uhm, it seems like you had unprotected sex right? Did you get tested afterwards?”   

Again Harry was blown away by the fact how genuinely concerned Louis sounded. There was absolutely no disgust either. But what Louis lacked to display, Harry felt threefold.   

“No.”, he admitted, turning his eyes away, feeling too ashamed to look at the doctor in that moment. “I’m not allowed to go to a clinic. But I’m pretty sure that I have some kind of STD. I mean, I must have, right? After four years of... this. I really try my best in terms of protection, but... some simply refuse to wear a condom. Some, like the last one, simply take it off during... you know. If I didn’t catch some kind of STD after all these years, I'm the luckiest person to ever walk this earth.”  

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see, how Louis lowered his wrap, as if he just lost his appetite.  

“Sorry. Not the best topic for eating. Sorry.”, Harry tried to apologise, turning to look at Louis pleadingly.   

Louis gave him a sad smile and shook his head. “First of all, I asked. And I’m a doctor, so stuff like this hardly throws me off. And secondly, you can tell me anything, Harry. Really, don’t think you have to hide something or filter what you say, because you think I will be grossed out.” He waited for Harry to accept this with a nod. “And do you want me to be honest?”   

“Sure.”, Harry affirmed, without thinking it through.  

“I agree with you. It’s likely that you caught an STI or two, but if you don’t have any obvious symptoms, I don’t think it will be that bad. Most of them are treatable.”   

Harry pressed his jaw together, looking at the remains of his wrap in his hand. “I think I have symptoms, but most of the time I can’t tell what exactly caused it. I mean, do I have problems weeing because of an STD or because Ewan punched me in the groin too hard? And maybe the rash is just there because I used dish soap to wash myself. You know? Hard to tell apart.”   

Louis now was the one to turn his face away, but Harry still caught a glimpse of the crestfallen expression on it. The older man cleared his throat. “When you get out, you get all the help you need. I’ll be there the whole way, if you want me to.”  

Harry felt stunned by this offer. Did this mean Louis wanted to stay in touch after Harry got out? But it was a no-brainer to answer this question. “I'd like that very much.”   

Finally, that made Louis smile again. “Then I’ll be there, I promise. And now eat your veggies.”   

Harry almost rolled his eyes at the last part, because that sounded so much like his mum for a second.  

They finished their meal and then got up again, walking around a bit.  

“It’s getting late, you can go to bed if you want to.”, Harry offered after some time, because surely Louis must be tired. He was a doctor after all, working hard every day.   

Louis sent a smile in Harry’s direction, shaking his head no. “I’m alright. Time flies when it’s spent in good company.”   

The younger man wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Surely Louis was just joking around to keep the mood light.   

“When do you have to get up for work?”, he asked instead.  

The man next to him pulled a face. “At 5.”   

Harry gasped, looking at the time displayed on the bus stop near by. “Louis, that’s in 4 and a half hours! You need to sleep!”   

“Pfff. “, the doctor made, shrugging as if it was nothing. “I’m used to getting little sleep. And really. I’m enjoying myself. And...” He stopped, looking sheepish, as if he almost said something he didn’t want to say.  

“And?”, Harry probed, curious as to what would cause Louis to look like this.   

He obviously hesitated. “And...”, he continued slowly. “I don’t want to let you go. I’m scared I won’t see you again.”   

Okay. Wow. What? That sounded weird, taking into account that Louis didn’t really know Harry and also knew that he was a whore.   

Louis probably read Harry’s thoughts off his face. “Sorry.”, he apologised. “It’s just... Like I said, you’re special Harry.” Here he stopped walking, turning so he was facing Harry properly. “And it scares the shit out of me to let you go back to that place. I never know when and if I'll see you again.”   

“But why?” Harry was so confused, he just spoke without thinking.  

Louis chuckled a bit, rubbing his right eyebrow. “You really don’t know your worth, Harry. Do you even know how beautiful you are?”   

That made Harry freeze. Okay, that statement or rather that question was hard to take the wrong way. Did Louis do all this just because he liked the way Harry looked? The comfortable feeling, he had in Louis presence before, evaporated. “Is that the reason you’re helping me?” His voice came out shaky and he cursed his inability to hide his emotions in this moment. Normally, he was so good at it.  

Louis looked puzzled for a moment and then something like understanding dawned on his face. He held up both of his hands. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Harry it’s not like this! I mean, yes my first thought was that you were absolutely stunning, but... I also had the immediate feeling that I had to protect you somehow. And then I got to know you and with beautiful I meant inside and out.”   

“But... you don’t know me at all. How can you think I’m beautiful? And then... with what you know about me, how can you think I’m beautiful? I’m a fucking mess!”, it burst out of him and he felt a strange surge of anger rush through him.   

“I’m sorry if I upset you, or made you uncomfortable, Harry.”, Louis placated him, his voice calm and level. “It’s just the way I see you.”  

“Well, I think you need glasses.”, Harry muttered, before turning and resuming to walk, keeping his head low and shoulders high.   

Louis caught up with him within seconds. “I know it’s hard for you to get what I mean... but I’m willing to wait. Some day you'll see yourself like I do.”   

Harry shook his head and scoffed. “Or it’s the other way around. Maybe you’ll see how fucked up I really am.”   

“No use in arguing about this, is there?”, Louis asked and Harry marvelled at his ability to stay so collected and utterly calm all the time.   

“No, not really. But I don’t know what you’re expecting to get out of this, Louis.”   

“I’m not expecting anything! I just want you to be safe!” Okay, now Louis sounded a bit more emotional.  

And right. Why was Harry arguing with the one person who cared about him in the last four years? He was and forever will be in Louis debt. His motives didn’t really matter, did they? He helped Harry and he should be thankful for it, period.  

“Sorry.”, Harry said slowly, hoping the other man would forgive him his attitude. He threw in some puppy eyes for good measure.   

He saw how Louis features softened immediately. “It’s okay, nothing to be sorry for. I know it’s hard to understand all that, after being mistreated for so long.”   

Exactly. Harry didn’t understand at all, but like mentioned before, he wouldn’t question it anymore, as long as he got help. “Yeah...”  

“Do you want to have a drink before we part ways?” Louis was already back to his smiling self.   

“A drink?”   

“Yeah? I can go into a pub and get us a drink and we'll drink it outside?”   

“I don’t think I should. When he smells alcohol on my breath, he'll suspect I spend his money on drinks.”  

“Right... How about a milkshake? The bar next to mine makes them and they're delicious.”   

That actually sounded heavenly. So they walked to said bar and Louis got in to get them their milkshakes. Vanilla for Harry and Strawberry for himself. Harry couldn’t even remember the last time he had a milkshake and this one was in fact delicious. They happily slurped it up, Harry leading them slowly but surely to the bus stop. When he stopped there, Louis looked up at the display above them and sighed.   

“Which one is yours?”   

“The one in three minutes.”   

It was obvious how disappointed Louis was and Harry couldn’t help but feel the same.   

“I still owe you your money. Wait  hold this.” Louis held up his milkshake for Harry to take and then reached into his front pocket and got his wallet out. He pulled a wad of cash out. “Here.”, he offered simply.   

As both of Harry's hands were occupied with cups, he bowed down and put them on the ground. Then he looked into Louis eyes, taking the money from his hands. “Thank you.”, he whispered, hoping Louis got how thankful he really was.   

“You’re welcome, Harry.”, Louis smiled.   

Harry reciprocated the smile in the tiniest way, before he bowed down again, to stuff all the money down into his sock. When he got up again, he took off the sweater, Louis gave him, with a heavy heart. It had been so nice walking around in it, looking like everybody else. “And thanks for this as well. It was... thoughtful.”  

Louis took it back and accepted his thanks with a nod. Then Harry quickly got the two cups from the ground and gave Louis back his own.  

“And thank you for the food and the milkshake.”   

“You can stop thanking me now, Harry.”, Louis laughed. Harry was so mesmerised by this laugh and the way Louis eyes crinkled with it, he wasn’t even realising the bus was coming to a halt next to him.   

“That’s your bus, right?”, Louis asked, his eyes flicking between the bus and the boy in front of him.   

“Oh, shit! Yes!” He hurried over to the door and as he got in, he turned, looking at Louis one last time.  

“See you soon, yeah, Harry?”   

“I’ll try.”, he nodded and with that the bus driver closed the door. He could only hold up his hand in a silent goodbye to Louis. The man outside smiled sadly and waved back as the bus started it’s journey.  

Chapter Text

It had been eight weeks since he met Zayn. Since then he saw Louis a few times, receiving updates on how the investigation was coming along and how his sister was. Almost all of his meetings with Louis were rather brief, because Harry refused to take any more money from Louis, hence he had to actually work and sometimes it took rather long to reach his quota. Every time he came to Louis with some kind of injury or visible proof of what he was doing on the streets, the doctor’s face became a mask of pure agony. More often then not, Louis begged Harry not to return to Hackney and just stay with him. It always ended with Harry getting upset, explaining why that wasn’t possible and Louis apologising, looking defeated.

Tonight, Harry sported a bloody lip and a bad limp, when he rang Louis doorbell. It had been a few days, six to be exact, since he last saw Louis and Harry felt eager and nervous. He grew quite accustomed to that giddy feeling by now. He also got used to the disappointment when he rang Louis doorbell and he wasn’t at home that night. It had only happened three times, but still, Harry knew it was possible that Louis was at work, or out with friends or otherwise occupied.

But tonight he was lucky, because the intercom crackled to life and Louis voice rang out. “Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Harry.”

“Oh! Harry!” There was a short pause, that perplexed Harry a bit, because normally Louis immediately pressed the buzzer to let him in. “Come on in!”, he finally said and Harry still wondered about what was up, when he hobbled out of the lift, to Louis door. This was strange too, because normally Louis already awaited him eagerly in the door frame. Now Harry actually had to wait a second before the door opened.

Louis looked as handsome as ever, wearing a smart dark blue dress shirt and black slacks. He was dressed up.

It was nearing two o'clock and he was dressed up. Harry was confused.

“Hi, uhm...”, Harry said, unsure of how to ask if he came at an inconvenient time.

“Hi, Harry.”, Louis smiled and stepped aside. “Come in.”

Of course Harry stepped into Louis hallway, but he still felt like something was off.

“Harry, uh, listen-“, Louis started but he was interrupted by a gorgeous woman in a beautiful black dress, who walked into the hallway from the living room, her eyes widening when she took in Harry’s appearance, her eyes lingering on his bloody lip and the skimpy sheer blouse Harry sported.

“Oh.”, she made.

There was a moment of complete silence, where Harry stared at the beautiful woman, the woman stared at Harry and Louis head whooshed from left to right like he was watching the fastest tennis match in history.

Then, the blond woman cleared her throat and stepped nearer.

That seemed to bring Louis back to his senses because he turned to the woman. “Love, I asked you to stay in the living room.”

Something got very, very cold inside of Harry when he heard Louis call this girl love. Harry obviously interrupted Louis date night and he felt beyond mortified. Oh god. This was Louis date or girlfriend and Harry showed up in the middle of the night, looking like he did. What must she think? And surely Louis wasn’t too happy either about this turn of events.

She raised a single eyebrow at him. “I know. But I didn’t.”

“Yes, I can see that.”, Louis sighed. “Can you give me a few minutes? I’ll be right back with you, yeah?”

The blond laughed and shook her head. “No, I want to know what’s going on here.”

“Lo-“, Louis started but Harry interrupted him.

“Sorry for disturbing you both! I didn’t know. Uh, I’ll just go. You have a lovely time. Sorry again.” He walked backwards towards the door, hoping that Louis wasn’t in trouble with his date/girlfriend because of him. Also there was a nagging feeling inside of him... around the place his heart was beating. It hurt.

“Harry wait! Ah, fuck. Lottie, go to the living room now, I’m not kidding and Harry, you stay right where you are!” Louis said this in his firm work voice, an irritated edge to it. Of course Harry froze right where he was standing. He couldn’t help it, as it was a knee-jerk reaction when someone gave him an order in that tone.

The woman huffed, but listened, turning on the heel and walking back to the living room, not without glancing several times over her shoulder, with unabashed interest in her eyes.

“Sorry, Harry. Really.”, Louis sighed, walking nearer slowly, because he saw how Harry reacted to his command. It had happened from time to time that Louis made Harry flinch or freeze, just because he spoke too loudly or moved too abruptly and he learned by now that it was best to approach Harry slowly afterwards, to show that he wasn’t actually a threat.

“No! I’m sorry, Louis! If I had known that your girlfriend, or date or whatever, is here, than I never would have stopped by! But I didn’t know!” , he rambled, hoping that Louis wasn’t mad at him.

But anger was not the expression on Louis face. It was confusion. And then it slowly turned into a laugh.

“Harry! That’s not my girlfriend! That’s my sister Lottie!”, he laughed.

“Oh.” He had a hard time figuring out, if that was better or worse. So, it wasn’t Louis' girlfriend, which at least made the region around his heart hurt a bit less, whatever this might mean. But it was Louis' sister and Harry was sure that the doctor never planned for his sister to come in contact with someone like Harry. Louis surely still wanted Harry to be gone.

“Uh, I can go if you want to. Again, I’m sorry for disturbing.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Stop, Harry. You're always welcome here, even if the bloody pope is visiting. I just thought I should ask beforehand, if you were okay with meeting her.”

“You are... You’re okay with me meeting your sister?” He had to make sure he actually heard that correctly.

“Uhm, yes, why not? I promise she just looks like a bimbo, she's actually lovely.”

Harry stared at Louis. “Because I’m... Well, you know. I wouldn’t want my sister around a person like me.”

Again Louis rolled his eyes. “You mean a wonderful, nice young man? Sure, that sounds like dreadful company. Come on, I want to have a look at your lip.”

Still trying to get to terms with the fact that Louis was okay with Harry being in the same room as his sister, he followed Louis.

Lottie was sitting on the sofa, a wine glass in her hand, her face still full of unhidden curiosity.

“Alright. Let’s make this short and painless. Harry, this is my sister Charlotte, but she wants to be called Lottie. Lottie, this is Harry.”

She stood up and held out her hand with a smile and now Harry felt stupid for ever thinking this was Louis girlfriend. The resemblance was painfully obvious now.

He gave Louis an unsure look and just when he got the okay in a little nod and smile, he stretched out his hand as well to shake Lottie’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. What happened to your lip?”

“Uhm...”, Harry made, trying to think of a lie fast enough.

“Stop being nosey, love.”, Louis intervened and again she lifted a single eyebrow at her brother.

“Harry sit down, I’ll get some disinfectant.”

Louis hurried out of the room and Lottie let herself fall back onto the sofa, curiously watching how Harry still stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“So, you’re Harry, huh?”

What was that supposed to mean? That sounded like Louis had told her about him. How much did he tell? What did she know about him? Shame pooled in his stomach. “Uh  yeah.”, he confirmed, lowering his face.

“God, you’re cute. Come on, sit down.”, she padded the sofa cushion next to her. In this moment Louis returned with a bottle of disinfectant in one hand and some cotton pads in his other.

Okay, both of them had offered him a seat by now, it would look ridiculous if he remained standing. So he limped over to the sofa, trying his best not to wince when he sat down. Obviously, he did a shit job of that, because Lottie looked concerned and Louis straight up pulled a face like he too was in pain.

“Is it bad?”, the doctor simply asked.

Harry’s eyes flicked over to Lottie again, before he shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Do you want Lottie to step outside for a second?”

Harry shook his head again. “I’m fine.”

“I can go to the bedroom, no problem, if you feel uncomfortable with me here. You look like you’re in pain.”

And yes, he was in pain, but it was nothing worthy of medical attention.

“I’m fine.”, he said again and then looked at Louis. “No blood, just bruises.” If Lottie knew enough about Harry, she would know exactly what he was talking about.

“Okay. Let me see your mouth.”, Louis said calmly and stepped nearer, inspecting the split in Harry’s lip. “Bit of bruising going on there as well. Let me just clean that up and it'll be fine, yeah?”

Harry nodded to give his okay and Louis dabbed some disinfectant onto his lip, cleaning his mouth and chin from blood. Lottie watched on silently.

“There, good as new.”, the doctor smiled, taking the cotton pads and walking over to the kitchen to dispose of them. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry, thank you.”, he lied, too uncomfortable to admit that he in fact hadn’t eaten, in Lottie's presence.

Louis gave him a fake stern look. “And that is not what I've asked.”

“Let’s just all have some lasagne!”, Lottie interrupted with a cheery expression, slapping her thighs with her long-nailed hands. Harry only flinched the tiniest bit at the sound.

“Yes, great idea. Do you like lasagne, Harry? Lottie and I made it earlier tonight, before we went out.” Louis was already getting a casserole dish out of his fridge.

“Uh, yes. Love lasagne.” He wished he could come up with different answers to not sound so dumb, but his mind was reeling, asking the same questions over and over again. Did Lottie know who he was? What he was? How much did Louis tell her? Was she appalled sitting so close to him?

“Harry.”

His head shot up and he looked at Lottie, who wore a warm and gentle look on her face.

“You don’t have to feel uncomfortable around me. Louis told me what you’re going through and what a great person you are.” She slowly lifted a hand and touched his forearm. “I’m really glad I get to meet you in person.”

A bit overwhelmed by this, Harry looked at Louis who pulled an apologetic face.

“Sorry, if I overstepped by telling her. I just needed to talk to someone, who wasn’t Liam or Zayn and I know her longest.”

Harry shook his head. “No, uh, it’s fine.” At least he thought it was.

Lottie pulled her hand back after she squeezed his arm softly.

“So... uhm, any news?”, Harry asked, just to get out of this awkward situation. Also, he really wanted to know if there was any new information and how the investigation was coming along.

Louis put the a plate into the microwave, nodding. “Yup. They are close to getting someone in undercover. This way, they can get information directly from the source. And your sister is alright. I talked to Zayn two days ago and she was seen that day.”

Every time Harry heard those words, a weight lifted off his heart, if only for a moment. Knowing that his sister was fine, meant everything to him.

“Good. Thank you.”

“You must miss her so much.”, Lottie said quietly.

Immediately, he felt his throat close up and how his eyes stung with tears. “Yeah.”, he croaked.

“Maybe save those topics until after he's eaten, love.”, Louis commented as he poured orange juice into a glass.

“Sorry.”, she said, sounding like she meant it.

Louis put a plate in front of Harry and then Lottie, coming back with his own a moment later and the orange juice for Harry. They stayed on the sofa, not using the dining table in the corner this time and Harry was glad because the soft cushion of the sofa was much more bearable to sit on, than the hard chairs around the other table.

Lottie lifted her wine glass. “Cheers.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but raised his own wine to clink it against hers.

Then Harry realised they were waiting for him to do the same. “Oh, yeah, cheers.”, he said and lifted his orange juice as well, clinking it against their glasses.

After the first bite of the warmed up lasagne, he had to stifle a moan. “This is freaking tasty!”

“It is, isn’t it? It’s our mum’s recipe.”

“It’s amazing.”, Harry confirmed, quickly taking another bite.

While they ate, Harry mostly listened to Louis’ and Lottie's conversation, a bit too busy stuffing his face to actually join in. Also, he didn’t know who Doris was and why it was exciting she swam thirty laps in a row. But it was kind of nice to listen such a normal conversation, when most of his life was so utterly abnormal.

So he practically inhaled his food and when he scraped the last bits of sauce from his plate, Louis sent an amused look his way. “Not hungry, huh?”

Harry shrugged. “It was just really tasty.”

“There is one piece left if you want it.”

He contemplated saying no to be polite, he really did, but he always was so goddamn hungry and getting a real meal like this was so rare, he couldn’t help but nod. “Yes, please.”

“Give me your plate.”, Lottie smiled and held out her hand.

Harry did, watching her get up and walk over to the kitchen island to put the last piece of lasagne into the microwave.

“Do you meet often?”, Harry asked.

Louis followed Harry’s line of sight, his expression becoming soft. “Not often enough, but we try. Not easy with my job and her job.”

“What’s her job?”

“I'm the personal assistant of a well known designer.”, she explained from her place by the microwave. Harry now realised it was rude not to ask her directly, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Oh, that sounds interesting. My sister was really into fashion as well.”

“Maybe I can meet her, too. I could take her to a runway show.”

“She would love that.”, he said, smiling but there was still a pang in his chest. Would she ever get the opportunity to do that? Only if Zayn’s plan worked out. There were no guarantees.

He tried to eat his second serving of lasagne more slowly, but he was done before Lottie finished up her first.

He stayed a bit longer, again listening in into the siblings conversation and answering Lottie's questions, which wasn’t too hard, because she kept the topics light.

In the end, he was disappointed to go, but he had to. He held out his hand for Lottie to shake, after he announced his departure.

She stood up and opened her arms instead. Harry hesitated. He didn’t feel comfortable hugging her in his state. He was dirty after working and he didn’t want her to smell him, or get her dirty as well.

“Uhm, is it okay if we don’t? I don’t like... uhm, not after...”, he felt his face getting hot and he stopped talking.

“Oh, not a hugger. Noted.”, she smiled and extended her hand, like it was no big deal at all.

Harry shook it gladly. “It was nice to meet you, really.”

“The pleasure was aaaaaall mine.”, she grinned. “I hope that we'll see each other again. Soon.”

Then Louis lead Harry to the door. “Until next time.”, Louis said, sounding sad.

“Yes. Thanks for the food. And your sister is lovely.”

That made Louis chuckle. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she? And you thought she was my girlfriend.” Another laugh. “I thought you knew that I was gay.”

That caught Harry off guard. Louis never said he was gay. Well, after the whole ‘You're beautiful Harry’-ordeal, Harry thought about it, but he hadn’t been sure until now.

“No, I didn’t.”, Harry said. “We never talked about it.”

That made Louis raise his eyebrows. “We didn’t? I could swear we had a conversation about it.”

“No, you asked me if I was gay.”

The doctor frowned like he remembered that conversation just now. “Yes, right... You never said.”

Indeed, Harry didn’t. He countered the question by asking if it even mattered because he was basically raped on a daily basis.

Harry lowered his face, letting his long hair fall forwards. “Because I don’t know really. Before everything I kissed a few girls... and a boy. I liked both, but I was not even sixteen then. I don’t know. And now... I don’t know.” Thinking about this stressed him out, because how could a person not know if they were straight or gay?

“Hey, it’s alright. You can figure it out when the time is right. Nothing to fret over, really.”

“I guess...”, he mumbled, fumbling through his hair.

“I’ll see you, Harry.”, Louis said by way of bidding goodbye.

“I’ll try my best.”

“I know.”, Louis smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

And then Harry left, making his way home.

When he arrived home, Ewan was greeting him as always by the door, because of course he knew that Harry was returning.

“Go straight up, lad.”, he said, checking Harry over, like he did every time.

Harry took his time walking up the stairs, but he still arrived in front of Simon’s office in no time. He knocked tentatively and waited for permission to enter.

“Come in.”

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him as quietly as possible. Then he waited, eyes turned down. Simon liked to make him wait like this, just because he could.

After three minutes or so, Simon finally addressed him. “Come here, boy. Money on the table.” .

Harry hurried to obey, limping over to Simon, taking the money out of his sock and laid it on the desk in front of him.

The man snapped his fingers and Harry knew what was expected of him, so he sunk down to his knees submissively, sitting down on his heels, folding his hands in his lap.  

He heard how Simon counted the money swiftly. “Very well.” Suddenly there was a finger under his chin and forced him to look up. God, how he hated that ugly face.

Simon sneered down at him. “You’ve been an awfully good boy these past weeks.”

Harry knew better than to answer.

“I think you learned your lesson, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”, Harry whispered. Simon grabbed his jaw now, holding Harry still.

“I think it’s time. As of tomorrow night, you'll be back on hotels. There are too many customers asking for your little arse.”

Harry swallowed, panic rising up in him. If he went back to hotel jobs, there was no possibility for him to meet Louis any longer. He only was allowed to go to his designated hotels and back. If he took a trip through Soho, they would know. But he could hardly protest. After all, this was meant to be a reward for his good behaviour.

“Thank you, Sir.”, he croaked out, even though he was feeling like screaming. He had no way of contacting Louis. His only hope was that he was being observed by one of Zayn’s men and that it was reported back to Louis that he was no longer able to stop by. And now he could only pray that Zayn’s plan would work out in the end, as he wouldn’t receive updates through Louis any longer.

Simon squeezed his jaw more tightly, making Harry wince. “Now show your gratitude and then off to bed.” If the boy didn’t know any better he would say that Simon’s voice was almost gentle now. But considering what he just asked Harry to do, he knew it was all a facade.

When Simon released his face, Harry rose to his knees and reached for Simons belt buckle, while the man lay back in his chair. He made quick work of freeing his dick, starting to pump it to get it hard. Although Harry had done this a million times by now, he still felt the goosebumps down his back. Sucking anyone else off was shit, of course, but when it came to Simon... The thing was, Harry would always remember his first night in this office and that Simon was the first person who raped him. So this was an especially hard chore for Harry.

Nevertheless, he did his best, because the faster Simon came, the faster he could leave and climb into his cot.

So, he swallowed Simon down, sucking like a champ and tried to think of nothing.

“God, you’re such a little cockslut. Yeah, you love that, don't you?”

No. No, he didn’t.

“Bet you would love it if I used you as my little cockwarmer day and night.”

Uh, no, not particularly.  

Simon put a hand on the back of his head and pushed him down deeper, forcing his entire dick into Harry’s mouth and throat, so that the boy’s nose was buried in his coarse pubic hair.

But Harry was way past the point where something like this made him choke or panic. He relaxed his throat as best as he could and waited for Simon to let him up again, which he did after ten seconds or so.

Harry sucked even harder now, twirling his tongue, wishing that Simon would finally come.

Please. Please. Do it already.

And finally, finally, Simon’s breath stuttered and with a loud pig-like grunt, he came down Harry’s throat, while holding the boy’s head like a vice.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy.” He jerked Harry of his dick roughly by his hair, making Harry stumble back and fall on his arse. Ouch. He stifled a whimper, simultaneously trying to clear his throat without being too loud.

“Off to bed now.”, Simon dismissed him, not even looking at Harry, lighting up a cigarette, while his half-hard wet dick was still dangling out of his trousers.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and hurried as quietly as he could over to the door.

But instead of going straight to his room, he made his way to the bathroom. Someone was under the shower, but he didn’t care. His main goal was to wash out his mouth. Only when he brushed his teeth twice and gurgled water for a ridiculously long time, he felt somewhat better.

“Your lip looks shit.”, came a comment from next to him. It was Cara, who just opened the shower curtain. The girls mostly didn’t care if Harry saw them naked. Most of them considered him something like a little brother, as he’d been so young when he started here. Also, as he’d never shown any interest in them, he was sure they thought he was gay. Which was stupid, he thought, because even if he was as straight as a line, they wouldn’t expect him to have any inclination to start something with them, right? The most he felt for them was something akin to affiliation and maybe friendship for some of them.

“Says the one with the bruised tit.”, he answered, giving a pointed look to said breast, which looked like someone had mistaken it for pizza dough and kneaded the shit out of it.

Cara snorted and stepped out of the shower. “There is cum in your hair.”

Harry whipped around to the dirty mirror, inspecting his hair, but Cara cackled and patted his shoulder.

“Bazinga.”

Harry rolled his eyes and gave her a very gentle shove, which had almost no effect at all. “Fuck you.”, he grinned.

“No, thanks.”, Cara winked and took her towel to dry herself off.

Harry left her to it, limping back down the hallway, straight into his and Brad's room. Of course Brad was already back, sitting on the window sill, smoking. By the smell of it, it was weed.

“Give me that.”, Harry huffed  by way of greeting and walked over to take the joint with shaky fingers out from between Brad's lips.

“Rough night?”, Brad asked.

“When did you last have a night that wasn’t rough, huh?”, Harry shot back and then took a deep, deep drag, holding it in longer than necessary. But it made him cosily dizzy.

“I’m back on hotels. As of tomorrow.”

Brad squinted his eyes, probably trying to see Harry’s face in the dim light that shone in from the street below.

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

Harry hesitated only for a second. He knew Brad for a long time now. But was it really worth the risk telling him? It was better if nobody in here, not even people he trusted, knew about what was going on.

So he shook his head and forced a small smile to his lips. “Of course I am. It’s way better than the streets. Was just unexpected I guess.”

“Well, he punished you enough, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think those words exist in that particular order in his vocabulary.” Harry took another deep drag of the joint, before handing it back.

“Nah, probably not.”

He left Brad by the open window, going over to his side of the small room. He bowed and fumbled in his little stack of things, pulling out a little metal box. Opening it, he saw how meagre his stash had become. But seeing that he was now back in Simon’s good graces, he probably could ask for some things again.

He picked out a Valium, swallowing it dry. He just yearned for some relaxation and peace.

He made quick work getting out of his clothes down to his pants and slipped into his cot.

“Good night, H.”

“Night, Brad.”, he mumbled, burrowing himself deeper into his thin blanket, waiting for the effect of the pill to set in.

Chapter Text

It was his last job for the night. He entered the rather nice hotel in Marylebone, making sure to act as if he belonged when the receptionist gave him a inquiring once over. But she didn’t say anything as he walked straight up to the lifts.   

His instructions were clear. Second floor, room 209. Knock 4 times. He just re-checked the piece of paper, his instructions were scribbled on, outside of the hotel doors.

It was itching in Harry’s bones to run out of the hotel and run and run until he reached the nearby area where Louis lived. Soho was so near and yet unreachable for him. In the last two months he had one ore two jobs in Soho, but even then it wasn’t anywhere near Louis street and he didn’t dare to make the detour and ring his doorbell. What if they saw? What if they came and paid Louis a visit? No, he couldn’t risk that. Hence,  he hadn’t seen Louis for two months now, nor had he heard about anything concerning the investigation.  

Maybe they failed? Maybe they gave up on it? He couldn't be sure, but he kept telling himself that if they failed, he'd be dead by now. 

Harry shook his head free of those thoughts when he exited the lift and made his way through the hallway to room number 209.  

He knocked four times as he was told and waited. For a moment he heard nothing, but then there were footsteps and with a quiet click the door opened.   

There was a man, about Harry’s height, with a round face and ginger hair. Harry guessed that he was in his thirties.   

“H?”, the man asked, his voice surprisingly melodic.  

Harry nodded.   

“Great, come in.” The man stepped aside and Harry saw how he checked the hallway, before closing the door.  

“All clear!”, he then called and suddenly there were people filing into the room from the adjacent bathroom.   

Harry felt sudden panic. Blank panic. This was going to hurt! It had happened to him once, that a group of men ganged up on him and the flashbacks in his mind were making it hard to see properly, even though he needed a clear mind. He needed to get out! They would hurt him. Hurt him so bad!  

“Harry.”, a calm voice said. He knew that voice. He knew that voice and yet he was still panicking, his breath coming faster and faster. He stumbled back towards the door. “I told you it was a shit idea to jump him like that!”, that certain someone complained loudly. And then his voice was calm again.  

“Harry. Calm down. No one is going to touch you. You’re safe. Hey, Harry, look at me please.”   

And then it suddenly clicked in his brain.   

Louis.  

That was Louis!   

Some kind of gurgled sound of agony escaped Harry’s lips, just because all that panic he felt needed an outlet. His back finally hit the wall and he pressed himself against it, his eyes flicking rapidly through the room and over the people to locate Louis, to make sure his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him.   

But there Louis was, walking up slowly to him, his hands raised, palms facing Harry. It was kind of like watching him through those kaleidoscope things, with Louis being the centre and everything around him was a blurry colourful mess. “Hey.”, Louis said, even managing a smile. “All is good Harry. It’s over! You’re safe now.”  

“What?”, Harry asked, not comprehending a single thing. What was happening here? Who were all these men?  

“Harry, take a deep breath for me now, okay? Just one big deep breath.” Louis actually inhaled deeply to show Harry what he meant.   

He could do that. He leaned his head back a little and forced air into his lungs.   

“Good, well done, Harry. Keep that up and look at me.” Harry focussed back on Louis. “You are safe now. It is over. Your sister is safe.”   

“What?” It was like his brain wasn’t capable of understanding those words.  

Louis smiled a bit. “Those lot here-“ He motioned at the men in the room, who watched Harry with interest. “-they are policemen. Your sister is in a hotel room with five other policemen. In this very moment the houses in Hackney and Croydon are being raided, in addition to another few places linked to that network. It’s over.”   

Harry stared at Louis. There was a ringing noise in his ears and he could hardly think over it. Slowly like honey, word after word trickled into his mind and when the full meaning of what Louis just said to him, hit him, his knees gave out.   

He slid down the wall, crashing uncomfortably hard onto his arse.   

The ringing noise in his ears got louder and louder.  

14 hours earlier.  

Louis just left the OR, having finished an operation on a polytrauma patient. The man was still in a critical condition, but at least they stopped the internal bleeding. He needed a coffee. He started his shift at six and he still had 7 hours to go. On his way to the doctor’s lounge, his private mobile phone started ringing. He immediately stopped in his tracks to get it out of his scrubs. It became a sort of habit to freak out a little when his phone rang, because he always anticipated a phone call from Zayn. Especially a phone call from Zayn with bad news.   

And as if he had psychic abilities the caller ID said indeed ‘Zayn’. Ignoring the heavy feeling in his gut, he picked up.  

“Hi.”   

“Hey, Lou-eh. You got a minute?”   

“For you always. What’s up? Has something happened?” He proceeded to walk towards the lounge, because he desperately needed a coffee.   

“Quite a bit actually.” Here Louis chest felt a bit tighter than before. “I told you all about the guy we got in undercover, right?”  

“Yes.” Zayn had met with Louis two weeks ago to tell him all about it. He'd explained that it was quite tricky, because they couldn’t just send anyone in undercover, because if they were to find out who all the people involved were, they would inevitably meet people from the police and they might get recognised. So, they had to send someone in, that could keep their wits about them and also be as convincing as possible.  

“Yeah, so, he just reported back to us yesterday night and he thinks he got them all. We think we got it figured out. It’s time.”   

Okay, fuck coffee, Louis didn’t need caffeine any longer, his bloodpressure and pulse were up all by themselves. “What? When?”  

“We'll get him out tonight. Our mole managed to make reservations on Gemma for himself and on Harry for a friend, allegedly. That way we can be sure they are safe, while we raid the houses and the other places involved.”   

Louis leaned against the wall just outside the doctor’s lounge, taking a deep breath. “You’re positive this is going to work? You think you'll get them all? Because if not, Harry will be in danger, right?”  

“I'm a good 95 percent sure.”, Zayn said in a placating voice.  

“Well, it’s not a 100. But I guess you never get a 100 percent in those kind of things. Uhm... How are you planning to do it?”   

“As soon as the officers tell us that Harry and Gemma are safe, we start raiding those places. I'll be at the house in Hackney myself to get Cowell. I want that bastard for myself.”   

“Good. Uhm, what’s the plan for Harry and Gemma exactly?”   

“Oh yeah, here’s the thing. I know Harry can be a bit, uh, skittish sometimes, so I thought it would be a good idea if you could come? If you were there to calm him down, I think that would help quite a lot.”   

“You don’t even have to ask. I’ll be there.”   

14 hours later.  

Louis saw how the realisation hit Harry and how his knees buckled. He hit the floor with a blank face, white as a ghost.   

“I think he's in shock. Eddy, report back that target two is safe. And maybe call an ambulance. The boy doesn’t look too good.”, the man, that introduced himself as George earlier, said. And in the second that Louis looked at the police officer next to him, Harry passed out completely. He simply slumped down sideways, like all the years of abuse he endured finally caught up with him, knocking him straight out.   

That’s when Louis sprang into action. Although, there was a major part in him that wanted to freak out and scream and shake Harry, the part that had been trained for years took over. He switched into doctor mode, simple as that.  

“Definitely call an ambulance.”, he said, while he kneeled down next to Harry, grabbing him, to pull him away from the wall and into recovery position, after he checked his pulse.  

“Pulse is a bit weak, but fine. Think it’s only a response to the shock. But the sooner we get him into a hospital, the better.”   

Louis could hear how the policemen were chattering over their radio.   

“Ambulance is on its way, doctor.”, the youngest of the bunch of five told him. “They said, maybe 10 minutes or so.”   

“Good. What about his sister? Is she going to hospital as well? Is it possible to get them to the same one?”  

“I'll ask.”   

Louis turned back to Harry, making sure that his head lay comfortably and checked him over for visible injuries. Apart from the bruises around his wrists, that looked like someone chained him or something and some very fresh looking circular burns on the side of his neck, he seemed fine. Well, as fine as could be, regarding that he lay passed out on the floor.  

“Could someone grab me one of the pillows and that blanket from the sofa?”, he asked and motioned at the things he wanted.  

He got them in no time, pushing the pillow under Harry’s head and threw the blanket over him to keep him warm. Then he checked his pulse again. It became stronger again, which was a good sign.   

He patted Harry’s cheek softly. “Harry. Can you hear me?”   

No reaction. He would try again in a minute.   

But Harry stayed unconscious for almost the entire time it took for the ambulance to arrive. Only when he was jostled around a bit to get him up onto the stretcher, he moaned weekly and fluttered his eyes open.  

Louis saw in an instant that the boy was back in panic mode, probably confused to no end.   

He began to struggle against the hold of the medic, nearly falling off the stretcher. Eddy and George looked like they were about to step in to hold Harry down, so Louis stepped in their way, getting himself into Harry’s line of view.   

“Harry! Calm now. They just want to help you. You’re safe. Here.” He held out his hand and the boy's own shot out and grabbed it in a death grip.   

Harry’s eyes were fixated solely on him.   

“Alright. Just stay calm and we'll take a little trip to the hospital, okay?” 

Instantly Harry began shaking his head, the panic in his eyes so clear it was hard to watch. "C-Can't go to hospital." 

Of course. Harry was so scared, he was beside himself and apperently forgot or blocked out the fact that he was free now. His brain was in survival mode. So, Louis spoke to him as levelly as he could muster in this moment. "Yes, Harry you can. No one will hurt you, I promise. It's over. You got out."

For a period of fifteen seconds or so, he was just being stared at with those bright green eyes, until Harry finally gave the tiniest nod.

Louis flicked his eyes at the medics. “Buckle him up, but gently.”  

They approached the stretcher again and when Harry began to squirm again, Louis squeezed his hand. “No, just look at me now. You’re safe. They’re just buckling you up so you don’t fall off the stretcher. See? Even you can undo them if you want to.” He used his free hand to show Harry that he wasn’t restrained and loosened one of the belts. That made Harry a bit calmer and now the boy only stared at Louis, still gripping his hand so tightly it hurt. But Louis didn’t mind one bit.   

“Okay, ready.”, one of the medics said.  

“Then let’s move out. Eddy, you go with them. Jamie and I will follow behind in our car. Lloyd and Gary, you go and see if they need your support. I want you to report back to me as soon as you know more, alright?”, George commanded and the whole group started to move out.   

Louis didn’t worry about his safety. All of the policemen carried a gun with them and even if one of the people involved in that shitshow of a gang would turn up out of the blue, surely they still would be safe. And if he was completely honest, he didn’t even care about his own safety. All that really mattered to him was that Harry was finally out of there. Those last two months had been torture. Pure torture. He got updated by Zayn frequently, even getting a picture or two of Harry, how he left that fucking house in Hackney, or how he entered a hotel. But it wasn’t the same like seeing him with his own eyes, so he could be really sure Harry was still alive.  

When Zayn informed him this morning that the raid would happen this night, he felt beyond relieved. And it had been a wise decision from Zayn to ask Louis to be present tonight. The situation would have been so much worse if Harry had been alone with those policemen.  

But he was by his side and he tried his best to act as Harry’s bastion of calm, holding his hand and talking to him constantly, even if Harry didn’t answer.   

Louis sat in the waiting area. He sat here for quite some time now. They whisked Harry away and even though he insisted to stay by his side, telling them that he was a doctor as well, they told him that he had to wait. And he knew that they were right. He didn’t work in this hospital and he came in accompanying Harry as a friend, not his doctor. So he sat here, waiting as patiently as he could.   

The minutes passed as if the clock was ticking backwards. He was just checking the clock on his wrist again, when a nurse came hurrying inside.  

“Louis?”, she huffed, looking around the room, scanning the few people there.  

He frowned at being called solely by his first name. “Uhm, yes?”, he asked, standing up and walking over to her.  

“Sorry, no one told me your full name. Our patient, uhm Harry Styles, he's a bit fussy. He asked for you quite a lot and we think maybe you could help us calm him down a bit?”   

“Of course. Lead the way.”, he agreed on the spot. He felt relieved that he could finally go see Harry, but of course there was also a lot of concern because 'fussy' sounded bad.  

He followed the nurse down the hall, keeping up with her with ease, because he was used to the fast pace of hospital workers.  

“What should I expect?”, he simply asked.   

The nurse turned her head with a deep frown. “I think the poor boy is deeply traumatised and is completely overwhelmed with the situation. He doesn’t seem to like doctors all that much, which makes it more difficult too.”   

“He likes me well enough.” Weird time for a joke, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.  

“Oh, you’re a doctor?”  

“Yes, over at St. Mary's.”    

“That’s great actually. Do you know anything about his medical history?”   

“Uhm, he was my patient once and there he didn’t provide any information besides a fake name. But uhm, he needs to be checked top to bottom. Full blood exam, check for STI's, because he told me that is a major concern of his. Did you see his back? The GPS tracker?”  

The nurse looked at him in surprise. “As I said, he isn’t really inclined to let us check him over.”   

Louis sighed. “Oh, Harry. I’ll try my best.”   

“Good. In here, doctor.” The nurse stopped next to an exam room, motioning inside.   

In the room, there was a frazzled looking female doctor, a male nurse and Harry. The latter was cowering on the examination bed, knees drawn up to his chin, hugging his legs tightly.   

When Louis entered, Harry turned his head slightly, revealing big scared eyes.   

“Louis...”, he croaked.   

“Are you the one he's asking for?”, the doctor asked, stepping forward into Louis way.   

“Yes, Doctor Louis Tomlinson, nice to meet you.”, Louis offered up is name along with his hand.   

“Oh, a doctor. Stephanie Haas, Mr. Style's attending physician. Nice to meet you too.”   

“Louis...”, Harry croaked again.  

Doctor Haas stepped aside. “Maybe you could tell him we need to check him over and that we aren’t a threat to him.”   

Louis saw how Harry frowned at the woman, seemingly disliking her. And Louis also didn’t like her tone of voice, if he was completely honest.  

“Sure.” He quickly made his way over to Harry. He held out his hand in silence and Harry immediately grabbed it again.   

“Harry, what’s the matter?”, Louis asked, deciding to learn the reason for Harry’s reluctance, instead of simply trying to persuade him to comply.  

The boy looked up at Louis, his eyes a bit wild, but first and foremost he seemed scared. “I... Louis, you said you would stay with me.”  

“I know, I’m sorry. I tried to. But I don’t work here, Harry. In here I'm not better than any other visitor.”   

“I want you to be my doctor. You don’t judge me.”, Harry whispered, turning his eyes down to his kneecaps.   

“No one is judging you, Harry.” He lifted his free hand and very slowly, so Harry didn’t flinch, put it on his head, petting over his long curls.   

“They are. They know what I am.” Now Harry sounded bitter.   

“They don’t know you at all, Harry. They only know that you went through something terrible and they want to help you.”   

“Yes, we want to help you, Mr Styles.”, Doctor Haas spoke up and again, Louis didn’t like how she sounded. Her tone was condescending. Also, could she shut up? He was talking to Harry. He ignored her, keeping his attention solely on Harry. Because of that he saw the side eye Harry gave her. He couldn’t even blame him for it. But still, Harry needed to be checked out.   

“How about I stay with you while they do their thing, would that be alright?”   

Harry looked up at him pleadingly. “Can’t you do it?”   

“That’s not how it works, Harry. I don’t work here and I am not your doctor. But I can stay with you. I promise nothing bad will happen. They just want to check you out.”   

“I’m fine. I want to see my sister.” Now he just looked like a petulant child.   

“Harry, come on. Let them draw some blood and look you over. Then we'll go and see where your sister is, yeah?”   

The boy’s head slumped onto his knees and it was silent for a moment. But then he nodded. “You'll stay?”, he asked, his voice muffled by his knees.   

“Yes. I'll be right here.”   

“Okay.”   

Louis looked behind him, giving Doctor Haas a nod of confirmation that she could start.  

Harry behaved, but he seemed to shut off somehow. His gaze became distant and when he was asked to take of his clothes, he did so robotically, his face blank.   

There were some gasps, when they saw the monstrosity on Harry’s shoulder blade.   

“Bloody hell, what is that?”, the nurse, who came to get Louis, asked loudly.  

“It’s a GPS tracker.”, Louis answered for Harry, because it didn’t seem like Harry would explain any time soon.  

Doctor Haas took a good look at it, took a few pictures for the report and then made the mistake of touching it without asking.   

Harry flinched . He flinched like someone threw ice water on him.   

“I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”, the female doctor asked.   

Either Harry ignored her or he was too far away with his mind to hear her.  

“Harry.”, Louis addressed him directly and thankfully the boy looked up at him, his eyes wide with terror. “Does it hurt when someone touches the thing in your back?”   

“Sensitive.”, he mumbled, before he averted his eyes again, continuing to stare at the wall.   

“Probably some damaged nerves. He told me it was inflamed a couple of times.”, Louis told Doctor Haas.  

She nodded in agreement. “Yes, it certainly looks like that. It’ll be hard to get that out.”   

And with that Louis agreed. That thing was in there for four years. It had become part of Harry’s body and cutting it out wouldn’t be fun. Harry would carry that scar with him forever.   

“What are those other scars here?” Doctor Haas pointed at the mass of little circular marks that littered Harry’s body, front and back. The newest ones where right on the side of his neck. Louis pointed them out, again answering for Harry.  

“Cigarette burns. Here you can see some fresh ones.”   

At that, even the conceited doctor had to gulp and Louis heard how both present nurses whispered some scandalised comments.   

She took pictures of that as well, before disinfecting the newer burn marks and putting some cream on them afterwards. Louis told Harry exactly what Doctor Haas was doing and it seemed to work because this time he didn’t flinch away when she touched him.   

As Harry only wore his pants, Louis saw the expanse of scars all over the boy’s body. He really tried not to stare at them, but it was kind of hard not to. There were some that looked like cuts, some like scratches and everywhere were those cigarette burns. The shades of them differed from a soft pink, almost skin-coloured, to dark purple or angry reds. Those last ones were obviously either newer ones, or they had been especially deep. Harry had been tortured. There was no other word for it.  

Louis felt like screaming and punching someone. Preferably that bastard Simon. But instead he kept his composure for Harry’s sake.   

They drew some blood from Harry to test him and then asked him the typical questions, all of which Louis had to repeat to him because otherwise he wouldn’t answer. It was a bit childish, but Louis understood. Harry felt uncomfortable and was overwhelmed and he clung to the only thing he knew in this room, which was Louis.   

When it came to the more unpleasant questions, Harry became fidgety.   

“Can't we put a gown on him? You documented everything by now, right? No need to let him sit here like this.”, Louis interrupted, instead of repeating the last question.  

“Sure. Jacob, get a gown for Mr Styles.”, Doctor Haas said in exasperation.   

Louis was about to give her a talking to, but bit his tongue. No one would benefit from it, if he got in a quarrel with Harry’s doctor now. So he squeezed Harry’s hand instead, waiting for Jacob to come back with the gown for Harry.   

Once he carefully put it on Harry, the boy seemed to relax a tiny bit.   

“Alright. Back to my question. Did you have intercourse tonight and if yes, any injuries we have to know of?”   

Harry didn’t react.  

“Harry.”, Louis said gently. A short eye contact told him he was listening. “Before you got to the hotel, did you work? Did someone hurt you tonight?”   

“Two. Two jobs. First one paid double.”   

“So he hurt you?”   

“Nothing too bad. Was just rough. Chained me to the bed.” He held up his bruised right wrist as proof.   

“No blood?” He used the expression Harry used before when he was at Louis’ place when his sister was present.   

“No. Only sore.”   

Louis looked up at Doctor Haas, who followed the mainly whispered conversation with squinted eyes. “No rectal injuries that need medical attention.”, he translated.   

“Alright. Did they use protection?”   

Again Louis had to repeat the question, to which Harry nodded.   

“Very well. Did you use any drugs recently?”   

Again Louis did his job and repeated the question, but seeing how Harry stiffened before that, it was obvious that he heard her loud and clear by himself.  

“Some codeine and oxy and weed and uh, benzos and cocaine.”, he mumbled. It was obvious as hell that Harry was ashamed to admit that.  

“It’s okay, Harry.” Louis earned a stern look from Dr Haas for that one, like she wanted to say that it was not okay. Thankfully she didn’t comment and moved on.  

After a few more questions, she was finally done and instructed the female nurse to bring Harry to a room.  

Louis didn’t ask if he was allowed to stay with Harry. He just stayed. Fuck the rules.   

Thankfully, they put Harry in a private room. It was small, but like this they didn’t have to deal with another stranger.   

Harry curled into his bed on his side, turned towards the doctor.  

“Where is my sister?”, he asked.  

“I can go and ask if she's here.”  

Harry looked up abruptly, like he wanted to say that Louis couldn’t leave, but the desire to see his sister seemed bigger in the end. “Please.”  

“I’ll be back in a jiffy.”, Louis smiled and after he petted over Harry’s arm as gently as he could, he walked out and hurried to the nurses station.  

He learned that Gemma was indeed in the same hospital. And fate seemed to be on their side for once. Or they just had a flash of wit and put Harry in the room right beside his sister.  

With those good news he returned to Harry.   

When he entered, Harry looked up at him in anticipation.   

“Good news. She’s in the room right next to yours.” Louis hadn’t even shut his mouth again, when Harry jumped up and sprinted from the room.   

“Harry!” 

Chapter Text

Harry’s heart was pounding in his ears and he barely heard Louis calling after him. In that moment he didn’t give a fuck. He also didn’t give a fuck that he merely wore that flimsy gown over his pants. His sister was here!  

Without knocking, he stormed into the room next to his own.   

It looked exactly like his own, except for the fact that Gemma was sitting on the bed in this one. For a second he was sure that he'd wake up any moment now. Surely, if he blinked now, the next time he opened his eyes, he would face the depressing, slightly mouldy wallpaper in his room. This had to be a dream! But he did blink and Gemma was still there.  

When he entered so unceremoniously, she looked up in shock, but as soon as she saw Harry and registered who it was in front of her, her mouth opened and a mixture of a sob and a wail came out. She began to struggle out of her bed, tangling herself up in the blanket, but Harry was already there. He practically fell onto her, putting his arms around her and clung to her with everything he had.  

“G-Gem. Oh god. Gem.”, Harry retched out, his chest feeling constricted.   

He could feel how her skinny arms wrapped around him as well.   

It was hard to describe what he felt in this moment. There was just so much. Almost too much. He couldn’t help himself and just started crying uncontrollably. This was it. This was the second he really understood that it was over. He got out. They got out. They were both alive and after four years of pure terror, they were back together again.  It wasn't a dream. This was reality. Gemma was real. He could hear her sobs and feel her body shake with them. 

It took them both a long time to stop crying and when they finally got it under control enough, that they didn’t sob like they were at someone's funeral anymore, Gemma sat up and pushed Harry a tiny bit away from her, so that she could see his face. She framed it with both of her hands, while he still clung to her torso like a monkey.  

Eyes, that were shaped like his own, swollen and red from crying, stared at him and he could barely move his own eyes fast enough to soak up all the details. The shade of greenish brown of her irises that he thought about so, so often. The curve of her bold eyebrows and the shape of her mouth. That was her. That was Gemma.  

“Harry.”, she whispered.   

A smile broke out on his face, even though there were still tears running down his cheeks.   

“Hi.”, he whispered back and leaned forward so that their foreheads touched.   

They stayed like this for some minutes, just breathing the other in.   

Then Gemma broke the silence. “Harry, I am so sorry. I am so sorry all of this happened. It’s all my fault!” She began crying again, but Harry shook his head immediately, raising his hands to wipe her tears away softly.  

“No. It’s not your fault, Gems. Not one bit. It’s their fault. They did this to us.”   

“But- But because of me we got lost and-“  

“No, it’s not your fault! Do you hear me?”   

“Oh god, Harry! It’s been four years! And look at you. You- Even your voice is different now! You were a boy and you had to grow up so fast. It’s all my fault!” Now she completely broke down, clinging to Harry’s gown and wetting his shoulder with her tears.  

He pulled her in tightly, not able to not cry along with her. “No. It is not your fault!” He enunciated every syllable as clearly as he could. He could feel the tracker in her shoulder blade, when he rubbed her back soothingly. It broke his heart that she experienced the same things he did.  

He let her cry for a while, thinking that it might be better that she got the opportunity to let it out. So he held her and whispered reassurances to her that it wasn’t her fault, his own tears silently running down his cheeks.  

Then she took a long and shaky breath and sat up a bit straighter, looking at her brother again. She gently stroked over his face and then pushed his long locks out of his face.  

“Look at you.”, she said again, but now it sounded more like she was in awe, even though her voice was breaking. “You’re all grown up now. And so handsome.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. But then her face became serious again. “Does mum know?”  

Harry’s heart stumbled a bit. Their mum. They would see their mum.   

“I don’t know. Uhm, I told them not to inform her until they got both of us out. I didn’t want her to think we were alive and then... Just in case one of us...” He couldn’t end that sentence.   

Gemma’s eyebrows rose up so high, they almost touched her hairline. “What do you mean, you told them?”   

And right, Gemma didn’t know a thing about Louis or Zayn or anything.   

“Oh, yeah, right. It’s a bit of a long story.”   

“I don’t have anywhere to be! Tell me!”   

So he did. He told her everything. How he met Louis and how he met him again. How the doctor made it his mission to help Harry and how Zayn got involved and everything that happened from then on.   

She sat there in silence, her mouth slightly open in astonishment.   

“So... You did that. You got us out?”, she finally said, when Harry ended his tale.   

Harry shook his head. “No. Louis did.” And wait a second. Where was Louis? He looked over to the open door, half expecting his friend to stand there. But there was no one. Maybe he left. It was very late after all. “He was here. Louis I mean. He came with me to the hospital. He promised to stay with me.”   

Gemma stared at Harry. “What... Why did that Louis even... Why did he help you? Not that I’m not glad, but why?”   

Harry shrugged. “I asked him that so many times. He says he did it because I’m special.” His cheeks got a bit warm after saying this.  

Gemma looked a bit sceptical. “I mean, it’s true. You are special, but...” She sighed and shook her head. “Never mind, I am grateful he did it.”   

Harry knew there was something she wasn’t saying, but at the moment he had no desire to get into it any further. He wanted to know where Louis was. He wanted him to meet Gemma.   

“Do you mind if I go looking for him? Do you mind meeting him?”   

Her gaze became softer. “I don’t mind. But can you stay for a few more minutes? I want to hug you again.”   

Immediately Harry opened his arms and pulled her in again, burying his nose in her hair. She smelled like shampoo and cigarettes.   

“Do you smoke?”, he asked, trying to shake off the anxious feeling in his gut. The smell of cigarettes reminded him of Simon. The fresh burns on the side of his neck were still hurting.   

“More often than not.”, Gemma confirmed with a sigh.   

“It’s unhealthy.”, Harry simply said.  

“I know.”, Gemma chuckled.   

“Simon’s favourite pastime was to put his cigarettes out on my skin.” It came out of his mouth without thinking and he was surprised by that himself. He felt Gemma stiffen in his arms and she turned her face so that it was smushed against his neck.   

“I'll quit smoking.”, she whispered and her shaky voice and the fact that his neck got wet told him that she was crying again.   

“Sorry I don’t know why I said that.”   

“No.”, his sister sniffed. “Don’t apologise. It’s okay. You can say anything you want.”    

He didn’t know what to say so he just held her until she pushed back. She quickly cleaned up her face with the backs of her hand. “Alright. Go and see if that Louis bloke is still around.”  

After a last long look at her face, he got out of her bed and walked out into the hallway. It wasn’t busy out here, because it was the middle of the night by now. But he could hear some voices down the hall, probably the nurses station. He took a peak into his own room and there Louis was, sitting patiently on a chair, his phone in his hands.  

“Louis.”, Harry announced his presence.   

Immediately the doctor looked up and smiled. “Hey. All good?”   

“Yes, sorry I just kind of ran off.”   

“Don’t worry, love. I get it. You wanted to see your sister.”   

“Yes.”, he nodded and then felt strangely nervous. “Uhm, would you like to meet her?”   

“Is she okay with that?”   

“Yes. Yes, she is. I asked her. I think she wants to meet the hero, who saved us.”  

Louis scoffed, with a hint of a smile around his lips. “I'm not the hero in this story. But I'd love to meet your sister.”  

“Okay.” He opted to ignore the first part of what Louis said. He was  definitely the hero.   

Louis followed him to the room next door and this time Harry knocked.   

“Come in.”   

He quickly looked behind himself, to make sure Louis was there and he received a encouraging smile, that seemed to say ' go on then, let’s meet your sister'.  

He opened the door and stepped inside, walking up to Gemma, who now sat on the edge of her bed, her skinny, naked legs dangling in the air.   

They locked eyes and he grinned at her  before turning and motioning at Louis, who stood in the door frame, seemingly unsure if he was allowed to come inside.   

“Gem, this is Dr Louis Tomlinson. He saved us.” And before Louis could open his mouth to protest, Harry quickly said: “Louis, this is Gemma.”   

The doctor, who stood still in the door, cleared his throat. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I heard so much about you.”   

Harry looked back to his sister to gauge her reaction. She smiled, but her eyes were squinted the tiniest bit and he knew that this meant that she was being cautious. Nevertheless, she stood up and held out her hand. “Thank you, Dr Tomlinson.”   

Louis walked up to them, to shake Gemma's hand. “There is nothing to thank me for and please call me Louis.”   

“Alright. Then thank you, Louis. If it wasn’t for you, my brother and I would still be... you know. Thank you.”   

“As I said, there is nothing to-“  

“We have so much to thank you for. Harry told me everything. How you gave him money, so he didn’t had to work and how you gave him food and patched him up when he was injured. And most importantly, how you went to the police in his stead. There is a lot to thank you for.” Gemma's voice was steady and insistent and Harry marvelled at her for a second. She sounded exactly like the old Gemma, brave and unapologetic.  

Louis cheeks got a rosy tint, as if he was embarrassed by something, but he smiled and accepted what Gemma said. “Alright, then let me say that I gladly did all of what you just said. I am so, so happy that it all worked out and you both are save now.”   

The guarded look, Gemma had in her eyes before, melted a bit, as she lifted the corners of her mouth for the smallest smile.  

“I am sure you both want some time alone together and it is awfully late...”, Louis now said, looking at his watch on his wrist.   

Harry dreaded this moment. Louis wanted to go. How and when would he see him again. Without thinking about it, he took a step in his direction. “You're leaving? You said you would stay.”   

Louis face became soft. “I can stay if you want to. I just reckoned you wanted to stay with you sister and I am sure Gemma would appreciate some privacy without me lurking around.”  

Harry bit his lip and looked back at Gemma, who raised her eyebrows a bit in question. He felt torn. He definitely wanted to stay with his sister. But he also wanted Louis to stay. Louis was like his security blanket. With him nearby he felt safe.   

“I can stay another hour if you want to, but uhm, I still have a job and my shift starts at 6.”   

“Oh.” Harry suddenly realised that he was being very selfish. Asking Louis to stay this whole time was totally selfish. Louis had a life and a job. His world didn’t revolve around Harry. “Sorry, I haven't thought about this. Of course you can go.” He lowered his head and drew in his shoulders, feeling ashamed.  

“Hey.”, Louis said softly, reaching out slowly and gently touching Harry's arm. “It’s okay, really. I want to stay. If I could, I would stay the whole time. But I have other responsibilities, too.”  

“Yeah, of course, I know, I'm sorry! You can go.”, Harry quickly said.  

He felt how his sister stepped nearer, her body a calming and reassuring presence in his back.   

“Harry...” Louis voice was still ever so soft.   

He dared to look up and saw how Louis was trying hard to make eye contact. “How about I come back as soon as my shift is over? And I leave you my number, so you can call me if anything happens.”  

“I don’t have a phone.”   

“Harry, there are phones in this hospital. Look, on my bedside table.”, Gemma provided.  

“Yup. You can call me whenever. As long as I'm not in surgery, I will pick up, I promise!”   

“O-okay.” That sounded okay. This way he could reach Louis if... Well, he could reach him.   

“Alright. Give me a second, I'll go a look for some paper and a pen and I'll write down my number.”, Louis gave him a somewhat cheeky grin and quickly left to do what he said.   

“Harry? Are you okay?”, Gemma asked tentatively, as he stared at the door, through which Louis just disappeared.  

He scratched his neck, but winced because he accidentally touched the fresh burn marks. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”   

A hand touched his shoulder and turned him around softly. Her big eyes moved around quickly, as she took note of Harry’s facial expression. “Come on. The bed is big enough for us two. You can stay with me, how about that?”  

“It’s okay. I can go to my own bed.” Again he lowered his head, feeling like a burden.   

“But I don’t want to be alone tonight. Would you stay with me?”   

A warm feeling spread inside his chest. She probably just said that so he would feel better while he took up all the space in her bed, but it was still nice of her. Like this he could pretend that he was doing something for her, instead of the other way around.   

“Of course I’ll stay with you.”  

“Thank you.”   

Then Louis returned and said rather loudly: “Here's my number.”, which made Harry and Gemma flinch at the same time.   

“Shit, sorry!”, he quickly said, his volume lowered considerably, as Harry turned around. “Here.” He held out a piece of paper. Harry took it and pressed it to his chest for safekeeping. “Thank you, Louis.”   

“Don’t mention it. Alright. My shift is over at 6 pm. I'll come back then, yeah?”   

“When will you sleep?”, Harry frowned.  

“Don’t worry about me. I'll be fine. You both should try to sleep now. I'll bet there will be a lot going on tomorrow.”   

“Yeah.” He probably meant that police would turn up to ask questions.   

“Alright. I'll see you after my shift, but call me if you need me.”   

“Okay.”, Harry breathed, wishing that Louis could just stay.   

“Bye, Harry. Goodbye Gemma, it was a pleasure meeting you.”   

“Goodbye Louis.”, Gemma said and Harry merely got out a breathy “Bye.”  

Gemma then tugged him over to her bed, when Louis left and climbed into it, patting on the mattress next to her. “Come on, it'll be like old times when we watched movies in my bed.”, she smiled.  

He gulped down the lump in his throat and did as she asked, settling in right next to her, after he deposited Louis number on the nightstand, right beside the phone. His sister turned to her side and reached out to gently stroke through his hair. “It's so long now.”, she whispered.   

“I wanted to cut it. Cara sometimes cut it for me, but then Simon decided he liked it long and said I couldn’t cut it anymore.”   

For a few seconds, her hand stilled, but then she continued, her hand now flat, patting over his head. “When we're out of here, we'll go to a hair salon and get you a nice hair cut, how does that sound?”   

He frowned a bit. “I don’t know. I'm kind of used to it now.”   

“You can keep it, if you want to. The main point here is that you can choose what you want to do.”   

“Yeah.”, he breathed, closing his eyes. He then also turned to his side, reaching for both of her hands, to press a kiss to them. “I am so glad that you got out, Gems.”, he whispered with his lips still on her knuckles.  

“That we got out, Harry.”, she corrected him.   

“Yeah, sure.” The thing was, of course he felt massively relieved and stuff, but generally he didn’t feel any different. He was still someone, who slept with two men just this night. His bum was still sore and he still wore the bruises around his wrist from being chained to the bed by his second punter. Luckily, he had been allowed to have a quick shower afterwards, so he could be sure, not to get Gemma dirty by lying so close to her. But he still felt filthy. On the inside. And this wouldn’t change, not even with Simon behind bars.  

“Let’s sleep.”, he whispered and closed his eyes, not caring that the light was still on. He was kind of glad that it was still bright as day in the room. Darkness didn’t sound all that good at the moment.   

“Yeah. Good night Harry.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss into his curls, before settling down again, her hands still clasped in Harry's. Apparently, she didn’t mind the lights either, because she made no comment about them being on. Good.  

Harry closed his eyes and tried to find sleep. An absurd idea really. How was he supposed to sleep now? He wished he had his stash right here and could take something to calm him down. Maybe he could ask a nurse? But they would hardly give him some benzos just because he couldn’t fall asleep. When he thought back, over the last few weeks, he hardly went to bed without taking some form of downer. Maybe that was the problem. He came to rely on that tranquilising feeling that set in some time after he swallowed a pill. Shit... Seems like he was hooked on them without even realising it.   

Harry tried to breathe in and out slowly and steadily, but no matter what he did, sleep just wouldn’t come. After what felt like half an hour, he was still awake.  

He opened his eyes again and studied Gemma’s face. It was relaxed and now that he lay so close, he could see the hint of a yellow shadow on her cheek, like she had a bruise there. It was hidden under a coat of make-up, but it was noticeable nonetheless. According to her deep breathing, she had no trouble falling asleep, which was probably not so weird, because it was 4 in the morning and she was probably exhausted.   

Harry felt tired too, but his mind and body seemed to have trouble slowing down. On the spur of the moment, he slowly let go of her hands and then began to sit up at a glacial pace, so he wouldn’t disturb her. Her eyes stayed closed and it remained that way while he stood up. He would let her rest.   

The boy turned around and padded towards the door. On his way out, he looked back and saw that she still lay there, looking like the angelic creature she was. It ripped his heart apart, that people could hurt someone like her. How? How could they look at something wonderful like her and think that it would be a nice thing to slap her around? He quickly left, before the sob broke out of him.   

He went into his own room, walking over to the window. He could hardly see anything than his own reflexion, because the outside world was still hidden under the coat of darkness and his room was lit up. He stared at his own eyes, seeing how bloodshot they looked.   

He quickly turned away. That wasn’t something he wanted to look at.   

But he felt far too restless to lie down and pacing inside this small room didn’t seem like a good option either.  

Fresh air. He needed fresh air.   

He still wore this terrible hospital gown and he sure as hell wouldn’t go outside like this. His own clothes lay in the corner on a chair. Louis had taken them up for him.   

His work clothes weren't something he loved to wear, but it was way better than a gown that didn’t even close at the back.   

Hence, he took of the bit of material on his body and slipped back into his own clothes. In an attempt to look more normal and modest, he buttoned up his sheer blouse to the very top. He probably looked ridiculous.  

Nevertheless, Harry walked out of his room and then stopped, not knowing where to go. Originally, he only wanted some fresh air, but suddenly his mind was reeling with all the opportunities. He had a wad of cash in his sock, because both punters paid in cash today, instead of sending Simon the money in other ways. He could call a cab and drive somewhere. Or... or he could search for someone who could sell him something to calm down...  

What? Fuck . He was thinking like a junkie. No he couldn’t and wouldn’t leave. His sister would be worried sick if she woke up and he was gone. No, no, no. He just needed a breather outside at the fresh air.   

The boy shook his head, to clear his mind of the nagging voice that tried to persuade him to go somewhere else and search for a way to get high.  

He just needed to step outside for a bit.   

Chapter Text

Louis felt exhausted. Utterly and totally exhausted. But he had to function. There were people who relied on him. So he swallowed what felt like the thirtieth cup of coffee down and walked back to the front desk.

“Alright, what’s next?”, he asked Debbie behind the desk.

“There is a woman in number 2, who injured her arm. Looks like it’s broken to me.”, she replied, not even looking up from the screen in front of her.

“Aight, cheers.”, he nodded, suppressed a yawn and walked over to exam room 2. But just as he was about to knock, his phone rang. And it wasn’t his work phone in his white coat, which hardly ever stayed silent. It was his personal cell phone in the front pocket of his trousers.

Fuck. He hurried to take it out and saw that it was a number that he didn’t know, but it was a Londoner dialling code, so his presentiment seemed to be right. It must be Harry.

He quickly answered the call.

“Yes? Hello?”

“Louis? Hi. Uh, this is Gemma. Sorry to bother you, but uhm, I just woke up and Harry wasn’t here and he isn’t in his room and none of the nurses have seen him, or can find him. Please tell me he's with you!” She sounded frantic and like she was close to tears.

“Shit. Alright. Uhm, no. He's not here. When did you last seen him?” Dread pooled in his stomach, but he kept his tone calm, to not upset Gemma any further.

“Oh no.” Now she was definitely crying. “He- We went to sleep a few hours ago. He was with me and when I woke up, he was gone. He didn’t call you?”

“No, no he hasn't.” His mouth went dry with fear. What did Harry do? Where did he go? “Have you searched the whole place?”

“I- I don’t know. I think they are still looking for him, but I thought maybe he came to see you.”

“No. Fucking hell, shit. Okay, listen, I can’t leave here right now, I'm practically in charge of the whole effing A&E right now, because everyone else had to go into surgery, but, uh, I can call Zayn. My friend from the police? I'll let him know that Harry is missing and I'm sure they'll come and help you.”

“Yes, please. Please, what if something happened? I- I don’t know what to do.”, Gemma sobbed and Louis stomach shrivelled down to the size of a peanut. Yes, what if something happened? He didn’t dare to think of all the possibilities.

“Take a deep breath now, Gemma. Everything is going to be fine, I’m sure.”, he did his best to sound convincing. “I am going to call Zayn right now, alright? Everything is going to be fine. Please call me as soon as you know something, yeah? And I will come over the minute I can leave here, I promise!”

“Okay. Thank you, Louis.” With this she hung up and Louis quickly went into his contacts and called Zayn with shaky fingers. It was almost 8 o'clock. Zayn probably had pulled an all-nighter himself and was asleep right now. But he didn’t care.

After the fourth time ringing, Zayn picked up with a grumpy and sleepy grunt.

“Zayn, mate. I'm so sorry to wake you up!”

“What is it?” His friend probably heard the urgency in Louis voice and sounded a bit more awake already.

“It’s Harry. He's missing. He and his sister went to sleep and when she woke up, he was gone.”

“Did they look for him properly? Hospital's big.”

“Gemma said they are still looking for him, but... Zayn, can you help? What if he's in danger?”

“He shouldn’t be, I'm 99 percent sure we arrested everyone.”

“Zayn! I can’t do my work if I don’t know that he's alright! And I can’t leave here! And maybe... maybe he's in danger nonetheless!” He almost started to shout, but did his best to keep it down.

There was a sigh at the other end. “Do you think he's a danger to himself?”

Louis eyes went wide. He didn’t even think of that. “I... I don’t know! I- He wouldn’t- Do you think he would harm himself?”

“Fuck do I know, man? The kid went through hell, he's probably pretty fucked in the head.”

“Zayn!”, he scolded, even though he knew that Zayn was right. But he didn’t have to say it like that.

“Alright, alright, Lou-eh. I'm up. I'll call some people and then I'll go look for him, yeah?”

The doctor took a deep breath to calm himself. “Yes. Thank you!”

“Yeah, I'll call you when I’ve found him.”

“Thank you so much, Zayn. I owe you big time.”

“Yes you do, man. Yes you do. Okay, bye.”

“Bye.” And with that, the call ended and Louis stood there, feeling frozen to the bit of linoleum floor in front of the door of room 2. Harry had to be alright. He had to be.

“Dr Tomlinson? Are you okay?”, a timid voice asked and he looked up and saw one of the new interns standing only a metre away.

He shook his head to clear it out. “Yes, I'm okay. Are you free right now?”

The young woman nodded.

“Good. Then come in with me, patient probably needs an x-ray and I'm too fucking tired for this shit.”

The intern’s eyes went wide with shock at Louis' crude language, but he was past the point of caring. In a few years, she would be talking like that, too.

Harry sat at the brink of the rooftop, his feet dangling in the air. The sun had risen and hour ago and even though there were some clouds, the city to his feet was bathed in golden light. It was absurdly beautiful.

His tired mind was turning in circles, while he took in the beauty below.

It went from thinking about pills, to thinking about sleep, to thinking about Louis, to thinking about the future and then back to pills, because he felt a crippling anxiety in his chest when he thought of what his future would look like. He was nothing but a prostitute. He was a twenty year old without any qualifications. He didn’t even graduate. The only thing he knew how to do, was whoring himself out. He didn’t want to think of this and as his mind wouldn’t stand still on its own, he needed some help and the only help he could think of was a fucking pill! Even some weed would be fine. And when he realised he was craving this so much, he felt worse than before.

He stared down into the street again, for the hundredth time. Was it weird that he didn’t feel afraid, while sitting of the edge of such a high building?

There were people down there. Completely normal people, walking about and not having a problem worse than catching their bus or something. And then, up here, he was. He was a problem all on its own.

He was a twenty year old whore, with no qualifications. The only positive thing about him was probably his drug and std-test. What would his mum think of him? She would be so disappointed in him for taking so many drugs. The last time she saw him, the worst thing he ever did was drinking a bottle of wine with his friend Tom. And the thought of her knowing what he did... Not only the drugs but what he did with all those men throughout the years. It made his stomach churn. He knew, she wouldn’t blame him for that in particular, but he didn't want her to know. All those years, he wished he could see his mother again and now that chances were high that they'd meet in the next few days or even hours made him feel queasy. It would break her heart all over again. And he simply didn’t want to put her through that. Did they already call her? If not, maybe he could convince Gemma to leave her alone. She must made her peace by now.

Maybe it would have been better if he'd died a year ago. Or four years ago. Then he wouldn’t have had to endure all this shit.

Fuck, he was so tired, but his mind wouldn’t shut up. Why couldn’t it shut up?

He fisted his hair, pulling at it in frustration. Another wave of helpless tears escaped his swollen eyes and a gurgled sob left his lips. It all seemed so... so forlorn.

There was this beautiful city, soaked in light and all he could see was no opportunities, no future.

“Woah, Harry.”, a voice behind him said and he flinched like mad. He didn’t even hear that someone was approaching. But that was maybe due to the blaring siren of the ambulance below.

He turned and saw Zayn and another man standing there. Zayn looked like he just rolled out of bed, his hair askew and his eyes puffy from sleep. Nevertheless, he seemed to be on high alert, because he had his hands raised as if he was trying to calm a skittish horse or something.

“Zayn?”, he sniffed, being completely confused as to why the police officer turned up on this rooftop, along with a man in hospital clothes. Probably a nurse.

“Harry, what are you doing up here?”

“Getting some air.” And he only realised now what this must look like. He sat on the edge of a building, bawling his eyes out. They must think that he wanted to jump.

He turned his head slightly, peaking down onto the street again. Would he feel it when he collided with the pavement if he fell?

“Okay, Harry. That’s alright, but you got some people pretty worried by disappearing like that.”

“Hm?”, he made, only half listening, because he was still wondering if he would feel the impact.

“Your sister is beside herself with worry because she woke up and you were gone. And she called Louis and he's pretty worried, too.”

Oh, that sounded bad. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. You just wanted to get some fresh air, that’s alright. But, maybe you could come downstairs with me and tell your sister you're okay?”

Harry shook his head. He didn’t want to go downstairs. That meant the day would begin and doctors and police would want to see him. And maybe even his mum. He didn’t want to go downstairs.

“I want to stay here for a bit longer. You tell her I'm okay, yeah?” He turned his whole body away again, staring off into the bright sky.

“I think she'd want to hear this from yourself, don’t you think?”

Zayn was annoying him. He wanted to stay here. Maybe, if he stayed here a bit longer, just a little bit longer, his mind would quiet down and he could finally go to sleep. So, he shook his head. “I'm tired.”, he explained, as if it was totally obvious why this meant he had to stay up here a bit longer.

“Then you should go to sleep. You can lay down, if you want to. Downstairs, in your room.”

Again, Harry shook his head. “I can’t.”

“And why?”, Zayn asked calmly. His voice sounded like he was nearer now.

“It’s too loud in my head.”

“I'm sure we can work that out, Harry.”

Another head shake. “I don’t think so.” How was Zayn supposed to work that out?

“Of course we can.”, Zayn insisted.

Harry frowned. “And how? It’s... It’s...” He stopped, frustrated that he wasn’t able to express what the problem was. But wasn’t it awfully obvious?

“It’s what?”, Zayn now asked, coming to a halt right next to Harry, leaning his elbow on the concrete wall he was sitting on, his body turned towards him.

“Hopeless.”, the boy whispered.

“It’s really not. Harry, what was the point of it all, if you give up now, hm?”

A mirthless chuckle slipped from his mouth. “I don’t fucking know.”

“The point was to get out of there. To get your sister out of there. Your sister, who is waiting for you downstairs. And your mother, we already contacted her. As soon as it was clear that you were safe, we called her and told her that you both are alive. She and her husband and your dad are all on the way down here. Don’t you want to meet them?”

So it was to late. Shit. His mum already knew. He bit his lip, breathing in sharply through his nose. “You called her?”

“Of course we did. She can’t wait to see you, Harry.”

He pressed his eyes close, because new tears were building up and threatening to fall. “I’m scared. I... I'm not exactly the son she knew.” No, he really wasn’t.

“Harry, I’m pretty sure that all that matters to your mum is that you are alive. She loves you no matter what.”

Of course she loved him... but she still would be so disappointed. But... if she was already on her way, he could hardly throw himself of this rooftop. That would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

“Alright.”, he sniffed. “Alright.”

“Ready to come down?”

He nodded, wiping his tears away furiously, annoyed that they wouldn’t stop trailing down his cheeks.

“Okay, easy now. Give me your hand, come on.”, Zayn coaxed and offered both of his hands to him, so Harry could climb back down.

The male nurse was at his other side suddenly, offering help as well. But Harry ignored him and simply took Zayn’s hand, swinging his legs back over the concrete wall and sliding down to the ground.

“Good job, Harry. Come on, let’s get downstairs. You need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”, he mumbled, letting his head hang.

“If you have trouble sleeping, we can give you something to help.”, the nurse offered.

He perked up at this, but tried to hide it, so it wasn’t to obvious how much he was craving it. “Okay, thank you.”

He was guided back to the door, he came through earlier and then back downstairs. While they stood in the lift, Zayn took out a radio from his back pocket and spoke into it.

“I found him. You can stop searching. We're on our way to his room now.”

That made Harry feel even worse, because how many people had been searching for him? He just wanted some air and some peace and quiet and he seemed to have prompted a whole search operation. “I'm sorry for causing so much trouble.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re okay.”, Zayn said, while he took out his cell phone.

The door of the lift opened in that moment and they were back on the floor Harry’s room was at.

Zayn followed Harry while typing something into his phone quickly. As he saw Harry’s gaze, he said: “Just letting Louis know that you're okay.”

“Oh.”, he nodded, leaving it at that, because he didn’t knew what else he could say really.

The nurse stopped at Gemma’s door and knocked, before opening the door.

Looking inside, he saw how his sister stood in the middle of the room. It looked like she’d been pacing around. As soon as she laid eyes on her little brother, a sob echoed through the room and she stormed up to him to embrace him tightly.

“Oh god, Harry! Where have you been? I- I...” She sobbed so hard, that she could hardly get the words out. “I've b-been so worried! You w-where just g-gone!”

He hugged her back, his heart clenching with guilt. “I’m sorry.”

She was inconsolable as it seemed and so he guided her into the room and to her bed, where he sat down with her. Zayn followed inside, waiting a moment.

After some minutes, Gemma had herself back under control, at least so much that she was able to thank Zayn for his help.

The police officer shook his head and said that he was glad to help. Then he told them that their parents were likely to show up soon and maybe they should try to get some more sleep before that.

Gemma agreed and after thanking him five more times, Zayn bid his goodbyes, saying that he would come back later in the day, to talk to them properly.

After he was gone, Gemma turned to Harry. “Where have you been?”

He averted his eyes, shrugging. “I had to get some fresh air. Sorry, I didn’t think that it would cause that much trouble.”

“Never leave me like that again!”, Gemma sniffed and let her head fall against his shoulder.

“’M sorry, Gem.”

“Why are you wearing those clothes again?”, she asked, tugging on the sheer material of his blouse.

“I didn’t want to go outside in that gown.”

“Oh... God, I hope we get some clothes soon.”, she nodded.

“Yeah...” The nurse, who had been on the roof with him, came back in this moment, holding a paper cup in his hand.

“Mr Styles, I've got something to help you sleep, if you want it. Given your medical history, Dr Haas said you couldn’t have anything else than doxepin, but it'll help you sleep alright.”

Harry tried his best to hide his disappointment that he wasn’t getting his usual stuff, but better than nothing, he thought. Of course they wouldn’t give him the good stuff, if he revealed to them that he was practically an addict.

“Thank you.”, he held out his hand and received the paper cup with a single pill inside.

The nurse nodded and then left them to it.

“You can’t sleep?”, Gemma asked, eyeing the cup in Harry’s hand.

“No.”, he confirmed, before swallowing the pill dry, hoping it would kick in soon.

“Want to stay here? I don’t think I can sleep again, without you here.”, Gemma said, thankfully not asking for he reason for his insomnia.

“Sure... Let me just take off my shoes and trousers.”

Gemma slipped back into bed while Harry got rid of said clothing items, so he would be more comfortable, but he left on his blouse. Laying down with his sister in just his boxers seemed weird.

He crawled into bed next to her, letting her pull the blanket over both of them. When they both laid there side by side, she whispered: “Promise me you'll stay with me.”

“I promise, Gem. Sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s... No it’s not okay but I forgive you. Just stay with me.” With that she turned and laid her forehead against his shoulder, grasping his left arm as if she wanted to make sure he stayed put.

“Thanks.”, he replied, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the pill to do its work.

“Are you okay, Harry?”

“No. But you aren’t okay either, are you?”

It took Gemma a moment to answer. “No.”, she eventually agreed.

After that it stayed quiet and finally Harry felt something like sleepiness creeping through his body. He closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink into that nice calmness, that was provided by that pill he took. His last thought was, that it wasn’t as good as benzos, but it surely did its job.

Chapter Text

He wasn’t quite ready to wake up yet. It felt like the pill was still doing it’s job, but there was something nagging at his brain. Or his ears. There were noises. Voices.

His body felt heavy, as did his eyelids, but he opened them anyways.

The room was bright with daylight and momentarily he was blinded by it and had to rely on his hearing instead to figure out what was happening.

“...sleep. I think he was awake the whole night and just fell asleep an hour ago. They had to give him a pill.” That was Gemma, her voice shaky, sounding like she was crying again.

“Okay, my darling. We let him sleep a bit longer.”, someone sniffed and... he knew that voice! Mum.

“Mum.” His mouth formed the sound without his brain giving the command. Finally his eyes adjusted to the light and he blinked into the room.

And holy fuck. There they were standing. His mother and Gemma, closely intertwined with each other, but now turning around to him. When his mother’s wet eyes met his own, it was like his chest was caving in and exploding at the same time. There was too many feelings at once and the only way of handling it was to cry. Ugly and loud and immediately.

As Gemma let her mother go so that she could go to her youngest child, Harry tried his best to breathe. She still looked the same. Maybe a few more crinkles around her eyes, but she was still as beautiful as he remembered, even though she was crying as well.

“My baby.”, she whimpered when she reached the bed and bowed down to embrace her son.

Harry grasped her, pulling her down to him, squishing his face into her neck. Finally. He dreamed about this moment over and over and over and it was so much better than any dream. She was real. She was here. He could touch her, feel her, hear her, smell her.

“Oh god, my baby.”, she choked out again.

“Mum.” It was the only thing he could say really. But it seemed to be enough, because Anne squeezed him even tighter. Harry felt how someone sat down on the bed next to his legs and when he turned his head up, still clinging to his mother like a baby monkey, he saw that it was Gemma.

Her face was red and blotchy from crying, but she smiled at him either way.

Harry couldn’t quite smile back, but he detached one hand from his mother’s back and reached for her. She took the invite gladly and they ended up hugging each other and crying together for a long time.

“I can’t believe it. I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again. My babies.”, Anne sobbed and shook her head, before pressing kisses to both of her children’s hair.

“I love you.”, Gemma sniffed.

“I love you, too, darling.”, she answered, turning to Harry and mumbling into his curls. “And you, too, baby.”

“I love you, too, mum.”, Harry got out, sniffing up a considerable amount of snot afterwards. Ew.

This made Anne disentangle herself for  brief moment and she reached into her pocket to get out a kleenex for Harry. He accepted it and cleaned his nose, while Anne and Gemma used one as well.

After this, they looked at each other. They all looked a mess, but it didn’t matter one bit to either of them.

“God, you look so different. You’ve grown up.”, Anne remarked and reached for Harry’s face to stroke it gently with her fingers.

“That’s what I said, too.”, Gemma agreed, while Harry let his head fall a bit to hide his face.

Anne patted through his long hair a bit, before saying: “Robin is waiting outside. They said it would be best to come in one at a time to not overwhelm you, but he can’t wait to see you. We missed you both so much.”

“R-Robin?”, Harry choked out. God, he had missed him as well. Before everything happened, Robin had been his second father. He had accepted both Gemma and him as his own children, treating them as such.

“Yes. Would it be alright if I called him in?”

“Yes!”, Gemma said immediately and Harry simply nodded.

Anne smiled through her tears and got off the bed, to quickly walk over to the door. She leaned outside and said something and then there he was.

His big frame filled the doorway and he could have looked imposing, if he had not started to cry the second he laid eyes on the siblings huddled together on the hospital bed.

His face scrunched up and Anne had to physically push him forwards in a gentle way, because it seemed like he was frozen to the spot.

“Oh god. Annie, it’s really them.”, he choked out and then he walked all on his own towards them. Gemma got up first to hug him and he held her thin body tightly.

He whispered something into Gemma’s ear, which Harry couldn’t quite hear. But she nodded and smiled through her tears, before letting go of him.

Then Robin turned to Harry, who decided to stay seated, because he felt a bit dizzy from the sleeping pill and he was only wearing his boxers and flimsy blouse, which made him feel awkward. But he still received the bone-crushing hug gladly.

“My boy. I’m so, so happy you’re alive.”

Harry simply crushed his face into the man’s shoulder.

This all felt a bit too good to be true.

When they finally disentangled, Robin took the chair from the corner over to the bed to sit down and Anne sat back on the side of the bed, while Gemma got back under the blanket with Harry. She took his hand and leaned into his side, as if she needed his support. Harry knew how she felt. This was everything he ever wished for, but in all honesty, it was fucking overwhelming.

Anne mustered both her children quietly, her eyes not quite dry yet but there were no longer any tears running down her face.

“They only told me the basics over the phone.”, she began and it was obvious how she tried to be careful. She was probably itching to know what happened, but didn’t want to force anything out of them. “You were taken and...” Her voice gave out and she looked down to clear her throat.

Harry’s stomach froze over. So it was time. It was time to tell his mum what a disgrace he actually was. His heart started to beat a million beats per minute and his chest felt tighter and tighter by the second. The moment he dreaded so much was here. Panic. What he felt was panic. He didn’t want to see the hurt and disappointment in his mother’s face.

“Hey, H. Breathe.”, Gemma said softly.

What did she mean? He was breathing. He was breathing too much. Who was he kidding? He was on the road to hyperventilation. Next stop: panic attack.

“Baby, hey, it’s alright. Shhh, deep breaths now.”, Anne tried to calm him, but what did she know? Nothing was alright.

He urgently shook his head, while he broke out in cold sweat and why was there so little air in his lungs when he was breathing so fast?

The room began to swim before his eyes and Gemma’s and Anne's voices, who became more urgently now, faded into background noise as all he could hear now was his own heartbeat like a massive drum inside his head.

He struggled out of Gemma’s grasp and then out of the bed. He needed to get away. Forgotten was the awkwardness of his sparse clothing. He needed some room to calm down again. He needed space.

But getting up was apparently the wrong move, because the room began to spin in front of his eyes. Shit.

He merely managed a few steps before his vision began to fail and he felt like falling. Or maybe he was falling. Shit...

Someone was holding his hand. That was the first thing he felt when he came to. It was quiet. He felt warm and cosy and maybe he could just go back to sleep?

But... The reality of what happened crushed into him and he wrenched his eyes open. Ohhh. His eyes were unfocused. He knew that feeling. He was high. Not massively so, but he was definitely on something.

“Hey my darling.”, someone said quietly.

He got his eyes to move into the direction the voice came from. His mum sat at his side, holding his hand. Her face looked like she had been crying. A lot. Even more than before. But she gave him a warm smile, even though Harry could see the pain behind it.

He had a feeling in his gut, that she knew. He turned his head and realised that he was in his own room and except for him and his mum, nobody was there.

“Whe... Where's Gem?” His tongue didn’t properly cooperate but he was sure he did a well enough job of expressing himself.

“Next door. She's with Robin and your dad. He arrived an hour ago. But I thought you needed some quiet.”

“Hm.” He pressed his eyes shut and opened them again to see if he could focus any better afterwards. Nope, still hazy.

“They gave you something to calm you down and it knocked you out for a few hours.”, his mum explained.

“Oh.”

His hand was lifted and lips were pressed to his knuckles. And then there was a quiet sob.

Yeah, she definitely knew.

“Di... Did Gem te' you?”

He felt how his mother nodded, because she still pressed his hand to her lips. Another kiss and then she slowly lowered it back to the blanket.

“Yes... I... I can’t fathom what you went through.” Her voice waivered and she took a deep breath to calm herself down. “But let me tell you this: None of it matters. You are still my baby. I love you so, so much. You are still my darling boy.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m... really not.”

“You are. I know it might be hard for you to see right now, but I am certain. A mother knows those things. Just as I knew you both weren’t dead. So many people tried to tell me that I should let you go. That I should accept that you were gone. But I knew you weren’t. I could feel you. And I was right. And I know that I am right too when I say, you’re still my Harry.”

He kept his mouth shut, because how should he make it clear to his own mother that he was a total car wreck?

“It’s okay if you don’t see it yourself right now, baby. It’s okay. We will get there. Together. I promise you.”

He thought for a bit. Obviously Gemma had told her the basic story, but even Gemma didn’t know the whole extend of what Harry went through. Of what he did. She hadn’t been there. They hadn’t seen each other for four years with only one exception two years ago. Of course she got the gist of it, because she went through something equal, but... Gemma didn’t come across nearly as fucked up as Harry. Either she was a whole lot stronger than Harry – and Harry knew she was – or she... He felt so bad for thinking it but maybe she had it easier than him? Of course, he wouldn’t know until he asked her, but in all honesty, he had no desire whatsoever to learn the details.

But maybe he was just weak... Either way, she didn’t know Harry’s story , just like he didn’t know hers and hence she couldn’t have told their mum how fucked up Harry was.

Nobody really knew... except maybe for Louis. Louis knew. Louis saw him when he was beaten and injured and at his lowest. Louis knew and he didn’t judge.

There was a overpowering longing in him to see his saviour again. When Louis was around, he felt more like he could get through it. He was like a lifeline, keeping him from drowning.

“Where’s your mind at, darling?”, his mother asked eventually, ripping him out of his thoughts.

“Louis.”, he said truthfully, without thinking about it.

He saw how his mum smiled a bit. “I would very much like to meet the man who saved my children.”

“You will.”, Harry nodded, because he knew Louis would come back. He promised. Then he realised that it may come across as rude, that he was yearning to see a man he barely knew, rather than asking to see his own father.

“C-Can I see dad now?”

“Of course you can, baby! Wait a second. Do you want just him, or should I ask all of them to come here?”

“Uh...” He wanted Gemma and Robin and his mum around him, sure, but it also sounded stressful. But it wouldn’t be too bad. It was his family. The family he dreamed of seeing again for four whole years. “Get all of them. But only if Gemma is okay with coming over.”

He would offer to get up himself, but he knew that his mother would refuse to let him stand up in his drowsy state. Which was quite laughable, because he walked around in worse conditions many times.

“Alright, let me just check. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She didn’t leave without pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He was only alone for about forty seconds and then the door opened again and in swarmed his family. Robin and Anne came in first, arms linked around the other’s waist. Then there was Gemma, now wearing a thick lilac bathrobe and Harry was wondering for a second where that came from.

And last but not least, there was his dad. The shocking thing was that his dad looked like he had been crying for hours. And Harry never saw his dad cry. Not once.

Father and son locked eyes and then Harry got to see it first hand. There were thick tears rolling out of his father’s eyes, streaming down his familiar face.

“Hi dad.”, Harry murmured, still struggling to talk without slurring a bit.

But his dad obviously heard and understood, because he let out a little sob and then practically sprinted over to Harry, to get his arms around him.

“Oh god, Harry. Harry, my boy. Oh god.”

He was lifted up a bit and then held tightly. He did his best to hug back and hold his head up by himself, but dammit he was weak. But his dad simply reached under his head and supported it for him. It was probably instinct from back then when Gem and him had been babies.

It felt incredibly good to be held like that. To be held by a strong man that wasn’t scary or intimidating or a threat. This here felt safe because it was his dad.

Harry fisted his dad's shirt at the back and held on as tightly as he could for as long as he could.

Eventually, they parted because Harry’s body felt heavier by the second and in the end, even his dad couldn’t hold him up anymore. He was gently laid back down and his dad grasped his left hand instead, after he sat down on the edge of the bed.

He was still crying, but more calmly now. There was even a hint of a smile.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”, Desmond huffed and used his free hand to wipe his face. Anne was there in a second and handed over another kleenex from her seemingly endless supply in her handbag. “Oh thanks.”, he mumbled and used it instead of his hand to clean up.

“Don’t cry, dad.”, Harry slurred out, because it was hard to look at. Knowing him and Gemma were the reason for his dad’s tears was making his heart feel heavy... or even heavier than before.

Desmond laughed a bit, shaking his head. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop.”

“It’s okay, dad.”, Gemma answered for Harry and simply got on the bed on her brother's other side, laying down beside him, to stroke over his hair. “How high are you right now?” Her tone was a mixture of concern and amusement.

“More sleepy than high.”

“Do you want to sleep a little bit more, baby?”, his mother asked immediately.

“No. No. Want to be right here with you.” How could he sleep when his family was right there?

“We won’t leave. You can have a kip. We'll be right here, when you wake up.”, his dad assured him and everyone nodded.

That sounded like a great idea, but he really wanted to stay awake to see them and talk to them.

“Nah, ‘t's fine. Hey, you both got married, huh?”, he smiled at his mum and Robin, just to change the topic.

His mum's face fell and Robin looked down at her like he anticipated that reaction.

Harry was confused. What did he say wrong?

His mum stepped nearer, tears back in her eyes and after his dad squeezed his hand, he stood up to make space for his ex-wife.

She took his place and looked incredibly uneasy... maybe even guilty. “I’m so sorry, my darlings.” Her eyes flickered between her daughter and her son. “We never wanted to marry without you both there with us. You have to believe that. But our friends and family organised it to make us happy.”

“Mum! Don’t you dare think we're angry at you for that!”, Gemma got up on her elbow and shook her head, her bold eyebrows drawn together.

“’m happy fo’ you.”, Harry concurred with his sister.

That made his mum bawl even worse. “Still. I'm so sorry you couldn’t be there with us.”

“We can watch the pictures together and you tell us all about it.”, Gem placated her and patted her mother’s hand.

“Yes. We will do that!”, Anne nodded and hastily wiped her face, trying to get her hiccups under control.

After that, Harry had a hard time concentrating on the conversation and eventually he nodded off, even though he was fighting to keep his eyes open.

Chapter Text

Louis was absolutely exhausted. He was sure he shouldn’t drive a car at this moment and should just lay down in one of the on-call rooms in the hospital, but he promised Harry to come back.

Hence, he sat in his car, a huge cup of coffee in his hand and tried his best not to kill anyone on the road.

And he was lucky. He made it to the hospital’s underground car park without running someone over. He took a second to gather himself and then he got out and made his way up to the ward Harry’s room was on.

When he stepped into the lift, he stared at himself in the mirror for a second and then face-palmed. He had been so spaced out that he forgot to change out of his scrubs. He really still wore his scrubs and he didn’t realise it. At least he wasn’t wearing his coat, too.

Well, no way to change that now. At least his scrubs were clean and had no suspicious stains anywhere.

He got out of the lift and walked down the hall, hoping that his memory wasn’t playing tricks on him and he was on the right floor and in front of the right room.

He knocked and waited for a second as it was custom and then opened the door.

The room was packed. Well, not packed, but there were Harry and Gemma on the bed and three other people. One woman, who he could immediately identify as Harry’s mother, because they had the same eyes and looked overall pretty similar. And then there were two men. Probably Harry’s father and step-dad.

“Hello.”, Louis said awkwardly.

Harry and Gemma were both asleep, so no one knew who he was.

“Hello. Good that you're here, we were wondering when dinner would be served.”, Harry’s mother said, obviously mistaking him for a doctor or nurse of this hospital.

“Uhm, I don’t know actually. In most hospitals it’s around 5 to 6 pm. And it actually smelled like food out there, so it won’t be long I think.”

All of them stared at Louis somewhat confused.

“Uhm, sorry. I don’t work here. I just forgot to change out of my scrubs before coming here. I'm Louis Tomlinson, uhm, I...” What should he introduce himself as? I saved your children, sounded a bit pompous.

But apparently he didn’t need to say anything else than his name, because in a matter of seconds he was squashed between two arms and had a mouth full of brown hair.

“Oh god! You’re the one who saved them! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

He hugged her back, but didn’t know what to say.

“Louis.”, a husky voice croaked. It seemed like Anne's outburst had woken up her children and both were blinking at him.

“Hey.”, he smiled as Anne finally released him from her grip.

But before he could walk over to the bed, he actually had to shake both men's hands, receiving another string of thank you’s.

And then finally he stood by Harry’s side. He noticed with a frown that Harry was wearing his flimsy blouse again instead of the hospital gown he wore earlier.

“Hey, you.”, he said and reached out to take Harry’s hand, which the boy immediately took advantage of, because he grabbed Louis hand and clung to it, like he waited all day to do that.

“You look tired.”, Harry said, concern written all over his face.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay.”, he winked with a grin. And really, now that he was by Harry’s side, actually seeing that he was alright, he felt better.

“Why don’t you introduce us, baby?”, Anne asked and Harry did exactly that.

He shook everyone’s hand again, which was made a little harder because Harry didn’t let go of his right hand, hence he had to offer his left one. But no one said anything about it, because they seemed happy to accommodate Harry in any way.

“Did you work all day?”, Harry asked, using his free hand to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

“Yeah, was a bit messy today. Many surprise surgeries. But it’s fine. What have you been up to, huh?”

Harry looked away sheepishly, or maybe ashamed. “Slept a lot. They gave me something because I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh?” He frowned. Did they really provide Harry with some drug, after learning about his history with them? “Do you know what they gave you?”

“Uh, the first time it was doxepin.” He saw that Harry was avoiding his eyes as he said that.

“The first time?”

“I don’t know what it was the second time. It knocked me out really good.”

“Why- I'm confused.”

“Uhm, Harry had a bit of a panic attack and he wouldn’t calm down, so they gave him something. As he said, it knocked him out and he slept a bit.”, Anne clarified for Louis.

“Are you feeling okay right now?”, Louis asked, concern squeezing his insides.

Harry looked up at Louis and then at their intertwined hands. “Yeah.”

And Louis couldn’t help but wonder if that look at their hands meant that Harry was okay now, because Louis was there. Even just the possibility made his heart feel a bit lighter.

“What about the police? And did they have a look at your back yet?”, the doctor then enquired.

Harry threw a questioning look over to his mother. Again Anne stepped in.

“The police were here earlier, but both of them were asleep and when I told them that Harry wasn’t completely sane at the moment, they agreed to let them sleep and come back tomorrow. And some doctors had a look at Gemma's back and said that they would probably have to operate.”

“They most definitely have to.”, agreed Louis, taking in all the new information.

“Will it leave a scar?”, Gemma asked quietly in Louis' direction and he wondered why she hadn’t posed that question to the doctors who looked at her back.

Louis sighed. “If it looks similar to Harry’s, then yes. There is too much scar tissue from the infections to make clean cuts and get the device out easily. I'm sorry.”

“Infections?”, Anne asked, sounding like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Louis turned to her, but before he could say anything, Gemma said: “It started to fester right after they put it in my back and I had a fever. Then again after a few weeks. It was hard to keep it clean and it tended to rip open a lot.”

Louis nodded, as this sounded similar to what Harry experienced.

“See, the device is simply too big to be inserted at a place like this. Well, any place on a human to be honest. That made it hard for the wound to close and encouraged infections. And with any infection, their body produced more scar tissue. It’s now hidden under it and intergrown with it.”, he explained objectively, hoping to clear some things up for all of them.

Desmond turned away and stepped over to the window, while Robin laid a gentle hand on his wife's shoulder to comfort her. She obviously needed it, because her face looked paler then a few minutes ago.

“C-Can we talk about something else?” Harry's voice was small and he looked uncomfortable and Louis understood. It wasn’t something Harry wanted to remember.

“Sure, baby. How about you tell us how Louis and you met. Gemma merely told us that you met in hospital first and then met again afterwards and Louis offered you help?”

Louis cringed because that topic wasn’t really better.

And Harry’s face told him, that the boy thought exactly the same. Still, he nodded and began to talk. “Uhm... I went to the A&E and Louis was my doctor.” He paused here, because he knew that his parents all must wonder why he went to the A&E at that moment. “Uhm... I, uh, I was injured... during a... Uh, job and I needed, uhm, help.”, he explained, obviously trying to keep it vague, to not make it too hard on his parents. “And Louis was there to help me. He was very kind. Normally, uh, the doctors were... they normally suspected what my job was and... were quite condescending. But Louis was very kind and treated me... Well, like a human. That was nice. And the second time we met, he helped me again. Uhm, actually a friend of his helped me out... Uh, out of a bit of a shit situation with... uhm, a man and then got Louis to help me because I had a bit of a concussion and my head was bleeding. Uhm... Because I refused to go to hospital, he took me to his flat and stitched my head up and offered me help...” Louis noticed how Harry left out the part where he left and tried to turn another trick until Louis and Liam found him again, to rescue him once again. “After that, I tried to go to his place when I could and he contacted his friend at the police... and that’s how we got out.”

“And we will always be grateful for that.”, said Anne, smiling at Louis.

“I couldn’t have lived with myself if I hadn’t helped.”

Louis stayed until after dinner, until way after dinner. He stayed until Robin and Desmond had left and only Anne was there, because she wanted to keep watch over her children.

Louis was fucking tired. But he didn’t want to go until Harry said it was okay. And seeing as Harry was still holding his hand, it didn’t seem to be okay for him. So Louis sat there, fighting to keep his eyes open and held Harry’s hand. Gemma was in the bathroom, taking a shower at the moment, so it was just him, Harry and Anne in the corner on a chair.

“Want to talk about this morning when you disappeared?”, Louis asked in a hushed tone.

The curly-headed boy bit his lip and lowered his gaze. “I couldn’t sleep and... I needed some fresh air. I just went to the rooftop to think a bit.”

“I heard that much. Zayn told me where he found you... Don’t you think it would be good to talk to someone?”

He could see how Harry’s eyebrows drew together when he said that.

“I don’t... I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not? I'm positive that it would help a lot. Therapy is popular for a reason you know?” He tried to make it sound funny, so the conversation wouldn’t get too heavy.

That made Harry blink up at him, one eyebrow slightly raised now. “It just doesn’t... What if I tell that person everything and they are mean?”

“Why would they be mean, hm?”

Harry squirmed a bit, obviously unhappy that Louis didn’t let it go. “Because... Why wouldn’t they?”

Louis shook his head at that answer. “I know it’s hard for you to get it, but you’re out of there, Harry. Right now, you can be sure that the people around you just want your best. I know you learned that people can be... monsters, but they’re gone. Behind bars. And a therapist has no reason whatsoever to be mean to you.”

A quick glance over at Anne showed him that she was listening intently, but she kept quiet for now.

“Still... I don’t think I want to talk to some random person about that stuff.”

Louis decided that he couldn’t force Harry into therapy, even if he was scared that Harry would do something reckless. Zayn had called him and told him how he found Harry. Louis knew that Harry wasn’t simply on the roof. He had been on the edge of the roof, crying and looking like he was about to jump. Zayn told him that he had some trouble to coax Harry down from there. And that scared Louis to no end. What would’ve happened if Zayn hadn’t shown up in time? What if Harry tried to do it again?

But it had to be Harry’s decision. “Alright... but maybe just think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” The boy squeezed his hand a bit, bringing the doctors focus to how sweaty and cold Harry’s fingers were and that they were shaking slightly. Actually, if he took a closer look, it wasn’t just Harry’s hand. There was a thin film of sweat on Harry’s forehead and upper lip.

“Are you feeling warm?”, he asked, keeping his voice casual, but he had an inkling what was happening.

The boy shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“Harry, you have to be honest with me here for a second. Do you have a headache? Any pain in your muscles? Do you feel shaky or nauseous?”

“What’s going on?”, Anne demanded to know immediately, about to get out of her seat, but Louis held up his finger, motioning to her that she should back off for a second.

He turned back to Harry, waiting for an answer.

“Uhm... Yeah. I don’t feel so good. My head hurts and it feels like my skin is crawling. And I feel a bit sick.”, he admitted finally.

“Okay. Again, Harry, you gotta be honest now, yeah? How much drugs have you taken lately?”

Harry’s reaction told him almost everything he needed to know. He looked caught and embarrassed and his eyes flicked over to his mother in an instant.

After a few seconds, where Harry didn’t say anything but look over to his mum over and over again, looking distressed.

“Your mother won’t judge you. Right Anne?”

The woman took that as her cue to step over quickly. “Of course not, baby. I wouldn’t ever judge you. Never!”

“You say that now! I fucked up, mum! All I can think about is pills! I was so good at not taking them too often, but then... it all got so hard to take! I couldn’t see Louis anymore because I was on hotel jobs again instead of on the street. I didn’t know what was going on, or if it all went to shit and I was so scared all the time that Simon would call me to his office and put a bullet in my head for talking to the police. I was so scared all the time and the only thing that helped me to stay calm enough to function were pills. They also made me numb enough to get through my jobs and I took more and more and now all I can think about is that I don’t have any!” Harry was crying at the end of this outburst and Anne leaned over to hug her son tightly, whispering into his hair that she wouldn’t ever be disappointed in him or judge him. That she understood and that he shouldn’t worry.

Well, Louis definitely worried. He knew Harry liked to take oxy and benzos. Going cold turkey wasn’t advisable.

“Alright, let’s call for someone and you will get something to get you through it.”, Louis said as calmly as he could, while he pressed the call button.

“Get him what? Shouldn’t he... I don’t know, detox or something?”, Anne asked, letting go of Harry, but she kept on stroking his hair, as if she wasn’t able to stop.

“Uhm, it’s not that easy. Harry took a lot of extremely addictive drugs and especially benzodiazepines are... difficult. You can’t just stop taking them. Taking them helps you sleep and keeps you calm. If you stop taking them all at once, you’re producing the complete opposite. Harry can’t sleep and feels depressed and anxious. The withdrawal can be dangerous, so normally you reduce them gradually or give an alternative antidepressant that is non-addictive. They made a good call this morning , giving Harry doxepin. It’s common to give that drug to help with benzo withdrawal. They just didn’t knew that they needed to keep providing it.”

Anne's jaw was slacking slightly. It seems that she needed a minute to digest all that. So he looked down at Harry and saw that he was still crying, but his eyes were fixed on Louis.

“Got all that, Harry? They can help you and you will feel better soon. It will take some work, but you can get through it.”

“O‐okay.”, the boy sniffed.

In that moment, Gemma came back out of the bathroom, again in that lavender bathrobe and her hair wrapped in a towel. She took in the scenery of her crying brother with a frown and just as she was about to say something, the door to the room opened and in came a nurse.

“You called?”, she asked and as no one said something, Louis took it upon himself to explain.

It was actually easier to explain it to the nurse, than to Anne, because now he could use as many medical terms as he wanted.

The nurse nodded along and then promised to get the on-call doctor to get everything sorted.

When she left, Gemma wandered over to her mother and brother. “What’s going on? I think I understood what Louis just said to the nurse, but...” She looked around between her mum and Louis.

Harry sniffed and wiped his face. “Yeah, so... I may have some problems with, uh, drugs.”, he mumbled, again wiping his face with shaky hands.

“Oh... shit.”, Gemma said, but Louis had to give her props for keeping her face completely neutral. She just climbed back into the bed with Harry, putting her arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay. I can’t tell you how often I thought about doing smack or something, just to forget where I am.”

“Gemma!”, Anne gasped, but when Harry looked at his sister with eyes round as marbles and she just stared back, he leaned his head forward, putting his forehead against hers. It seemed to calm him some, knowing that at least one person in this room understood.

“But you didn’t?”, Harry asked quietly.

“No. I didn’t. I saw what the others where doing to get their daily hit and I... I didn’t want to, you know...”

“Lower yourself to that?”

“Yup.”

Harry nodded. “Proud of you.”

“But I totally get why you took those pills... Jeffrey loved to tell me how... how you were practically Simon’s pet.”

There was a tense silence after that, Harry lowering his head to hide behind his hair, his hands starting to fidget with a loose threat in the blanket.

“I...”, Harry started slowly, but the he shook his head. “Can we talk about something else?” His voice sounded so small and childlike in that moment, that it broke Louis heart. He saw Harry’s body. He knew that he had been beaten and basically tortured by this man on a daily basis, mentally and physically. Still, he couldn’t fathom what Harry went through and he totally understood his reluctance to talk about it.

“Sure, baby.”, Anne said softly, but for a while they all stayed quiet, until the door opened and a tall old man in a white coat entered the room, followed by the nurse, Louis spoke to earlier.

“Good evening. I'm Doctor Forkley. I was informed that Mr Styles needs some help.” He held up a clipboard. “I don’t know why nobody read those charts correctly, but it is quite obvious that you had quite an amount of drugs in your system when you came in. If they had bothered to look at your bloodwork, they would have known that you would develop withdrawal symptoms. Anyhoo.”, he huffed and approached the bed with a warm smile. “We'll get you started on doxepin right away to take the edge off. In the morning you should talk to our addiction counsellor. She is very nice and is usually around after breakfast.”

“Alright. Thank you.”, Harry nodded.

“Why did nobody read his chart?”, Anne asked, her tone clearly showing that she wasn’t happy about that.

“Well, ma'am, I would like to know that as well. But rest assured, I have looked at it and there is nothing else that needs immediate attention.”

“Uhm...”, Harry made, but stopped, biting his lip as if he was unsure if he should speak.

“Yes?”, Doctor Forkley smiled down at him.

“Nothing. Sorry.”

“Harry, if you have a question, it is totally okay to ask.”, Louis told him and this earned him an confirmatory nod of the old man.

“Indeed, you can ask anything Mr Styles and I'll do my best to answer, I promise.”

It took a moment, where Harry eyed the doctor, as if he tried to figure out if he trusted the man or not. But eventually Harry opened his mouth again.

“You have my test results on that paper?”

“I have.”

“Uhm... Also my STD tests?”

“Yes, some of them. Some of the labwork takes longer. I figure you want to know what results I do have?”

“Uhm...” Here Harry looked unsure, flicking his eyes around, once to his mum, once to his sister and once to Louis.

“We can step outside, if you feel uncomfortable.”, Louis proposed, even though he would like to know what those tests said as well.

“Uhm... no. It’s okay. Just... Okay, I would like to know, please.”

Here Anne stepped closer and took Harry’s hand tightly into hers, while Gemma cuddled into his side. But Harry looked at Louis, reaching out his free hand. With a small smile, he stepped forward and took it.

Doctor Forkley waited until Harry had as much support around him as possible and then he looked down at his clipboard.

“Let’s see... I'm glad to inform you that the HIV rapid test was negative.”

Louis could see how Harry’s face turned red and white in a matter of seconds, but he let out a breath that sounded massively relieved.

“Unfortunately, I have to inform you that you tested positive for Syphilis. But don’t fret, it seems to be in an early stage and is perfectly treatable with antibiotics and in a couple of weeks it will be fine.”

Even though Louis had an inkling that Harry probably had that infection, it still was hard to watch as Harry pressed his eyes close and nodded.

“And the test for hepatitis B was negative, but you tested positive for hepatitis C. Again, you don’t have to be too worried. The chances of a full recovery are higher than ninety percent. You will receive direct-acting antiviral tablets and I'm expecting you to be cured in a few months.”

Louis gulped. The doctor was right. Nowadays, hepatitis C was treatable and with DAA's it was possible to clear the infection completely, but still, it was a serious illness and Louis wished Harry didn’t have it.

“The lab is still working on the other tests and you do have to get tested again in a few weeks, just to be sure, but that’s it for now.”

Harry only silently nodded, obviously not able to form words at the moment. He looked like he was in pain.

Anne bowed down to him, kissing his head over and over. “It’s okay, baby. It’s not your fault and you'll be fine!”, she whispered into his hair.

“Anthony will give you your doxepin now and then maybe you should try to sleep.”

“Thank you.”, Anne nodded and the nurse, who was called Anthony apparently, stepped forward and held out a paper cup for Harry.

Seeing how shaky his hands were made Louis heart feel heavy. Even though Harry was out of there, he still had to suffer. This all was so unfair.

But Louis swore to himself that he would do anything in his power to help Harry through it all, as long as he wanted his help. He would do anything. Be anything. 

Chapter Text

Two months later

Harry woke up in cold sweat. He frantically looked around the room and needed a minute to realise where he was. This was his childhood room. It was so familiar, but every time he woke up like this, he still needed to look at all the details to remember.

There, on his old desk, was the little lamp that he kept on during the night, because he couldn’t stand the dark when he woke up. There on the wall, was the ironman poster he put up when he was 14 years old. There, in the corner, was his old guitar, which he only learned to play half-arsed. He was home. He was home and no one could hurt him.

He took a deep breath and looked at the display of his new phone. It was just past 4am. He sighed tiredly, because even though he felt like he could sleep for days, he knew he couldn’t fall back asleep. He tried that too many times now and he knew as soon as he closed his eyes, he would be assaulted by the images of his nightmare he just woke up from. Well... was it really a nightmare if it really happened? More like memories. He shuddered when he tried to push the memories out of his mind.

This time, it had been the night, were he went to a hotel room and found 6 men waiting for him instead of one. He fought them, because he’d been so scared, but they were six and he already had done 2 jobs before that one, so he was weak and tired. They had overpowered him so easily.

Harry frantically rubbed over his face, frustrated that he couldn’t manage to think of something else. His whole body was tense, in fight or flight mode, even though he knew that he was safely at home.

“Fuck.”, he muttered and threw back his blanket, getting his naked feet onto the cold ground, staying in that position for a moment. Just one full night of sleep, was that too much to ask? At least he didn’t wake up the whole house with his screaming this time. It happened every other night, that his nightmares became so vivid, that his sleeping body started to act on his own and he started to scream and thrash around until someone woke him up. He hated it when that happened. He could see it in his mother’s face, how much she was hurting when she saw him like that. It also frustrated him to no end, that Gemma wasn’t having the same issues. As it seemed, she was sleeping just fine. Or at least, she was doing it quietly. Harry hated it, that he sometimes begrudged his sister that she got away lucky. He also hated himself for thinking that she got away lucky. Of course she wasn’t lucky, as she had gone through so much shit herself, but... she got away luckier than him. He learned that Jeffrey had treated her relatively good, as he took a liking to her and she had figured out how to manipulate him. If Harry compared that to his experience with Simon, then... Well, he couldn’t help but think that she had it easier than him. Also, where he got a whole bunch of STD’s, for which he still had to take various medication, she somehow managed it, to only get herpes. Like, how the fuck did she do that? But Harry had worked on the streets a whole lot more than his sister, so it was obvious who would be the one with more diseases.

Shit, he had to stop thinking about this. He shook his body to get rid of this thoughts and groaned because his shoulder was hurting him every time he moved it. The scar on his back was large and ugly, even though it had healed nicely, because his mum had watched it with hawk eyes and cleaned it what felt like nine times a day. Still, it hurt. The doctors had told him and Gemma how difficult it had been to remove the GPS trackers and that they did their best, but it was possible that there was some remaining damaged nerves. Harry concurred. There was still something wrong in there.

He slowly stood up, making his way towards his bedroom door, opening it as quietly as he could and tiptoed over to the bathroom. He turned on the light and relieved himself quickly. While he washed his hands, he looked at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He looked tired, but there was a bit more flesh on his bones now thanks to his mum’s cooking, so overall he looked a bit healthier. He turned his head slowly from side to side. He needed to shave. His stubble looked awful, as he didn’t manage to grow it evenly. He would do that later today.

With a sigh he righted himself, leaving the bathroom and slowly walked downstairs, avoiding the creaking step on the stairs, so he didn’t wake anyone. He found his way in the dark to the kitchen, only turning on the small light above the stove and put the kettle on. It had became a ritual of sorts. He woke up at deadass o'clock, came down here and made himself a cuppa. After the tea was done, he took his cup with him into the living room, turning on the dimmable lamp in the corner and sat down on the sofa. There were still the remnants of their movie night on the table, an almost empty bowl of popcorn, his mum’s empty wine glass and Robin's empty bottle of beer.

They had watched Untouchable together. It had been Harry’s turn to pick a movie and as he had always loved that one, it had been an easy choice.

He wrapped himself tighter into the knitted blanket and stared at the clock at the wall. Twenty past four in the morning. It would be a while until his mum and Robin would be up. They tended to get up earlier than usual, because more often than not, they found Harry already awake and he had a feeling that they didn’t want him to sit here alone with his thoughts. Which was honestly a good thing. Every time he was alone and had too much time on his hands to think, his mind started to spiral. Harry's new therapist told him that he should try and occupy himself with something, like reading a book or drawing or something, but the problem was that he didn’t want to. First of all, he didn’t like his therapist, but he didn’t have the heart to tell his parents, because they had been so happy that he finally agreed to go to therapy two weeks ago. And secondly, Harry found absolutely no joy in reading or drawing or anything else in those moments. Sometimes he just wanted to sit there.

He looked at the clock again and wondered what Louis was doing. Was he asleep or at work? Harry missed him. Was it strange to miss someone you barely knew? If you asked him, then no. He learned enough about Louis to know that he was a lovely, kind-hearted, helpful and warm person. Harry had his number and when they said their goodbye in front of the hospital, after Gemma and Harry had been discharged, Louis had told him he could call or text him whenever. He did text Louis a few times and Louis had always answered, but... Harry missed him. He missed the way Louis made him feel safe and somehow less damaged. Not that his parents and Gem made him feel bad, but they tended to treat him with kid gloves. He totally understood that it was hard for them to get it in their head that he wasn’t sixteen anymore. He was twenty. Most twenty year old people didn’t even live at home anymore, had jobs and were completely fine on their own. Truth be told, Harry knew he wasn’t ready to live alone, but sometimes he wished he could. How should he ever learn to be a normal functioning adult person, if he didn’t even get a chance?

He was so, so grateful to be home but... a part of him wanted to... break out? Do stuff on his own? Live?

Because his days were basically a succession of meals, with small activities in between. It was boring as hell. Of course he would never wish back the days where he had to work the streets! Never! But it was just such a hard contrast and he had difficulties to adjust. His therapist said he would be fine over time, that he just had to learn new routines, but if his routine looked like it did now, he didn’t want it. In addition to that, he felt like he was under 24 hour supervision. Robin and his mum did their best to not make it too obvious, but he knew they were watching him, like they were just waiting for his next breakdown. To their credit, he did have a few breakdowns. Sometimes he had flashbacks or panic attacks out of nowhere and he perfectly understood that they wanted to be near him when it happened to help him, but fuck, sometimes he just wants to wash the dishes without someone staring at him.

Was he ungrateful? He was so at odds with the thoughts he had. Was it okay to have them or was he a bad person for having them? He tended to lean towards the second choice. Those four years must have fucked his personality up so thoroughly, that he came back as a bad person.

There was a quiet harrumph behind him and Harry flinched so hard that he poured almost the whole cup of tea over himself. Luckily, it wasn’t boiling hot anymore, but it was still annoying because now there were stains all over his mum’s blanket.

He turned and saw Robin stand in the door, his eyes wide and an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought I'd announce my presence but... sorry.”

He came over as Harry peeled himself out of the blanket.

“It’s okay, but I fucked up mum’s blanket.”

“Language, my dear.”, Robin said and held out his hand for the blanket.

Harry rolled his eyes and handed it over. His pyjama pants were also slightly damp, but not so badly that he felt the need to change.

“It’s not to bad. I'll just pop it in the washer later.”, Robin said after inspecting the blanket and simply rolled it up and put it on the floor. “Here, are you cold? Take this one.” He handed him another blanket, from the end of the sofa and Harry gladly took it to wrap himself up again.

“Thanks.”

“Since when are you up?” Robin sat down on the other part of the big sofa.

Harry shrugged. “4.”

“Nightmare again?”

“Hmm.”, the younger man nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

Harry hesitated. Sometimes he did talk to his parents about his nightmares, but it had been mostly in situations in which he had been completely wrought up and he just had to let it out somehow. He didn’t want to afflict them with too much of his shit and so he opted to keep it to himself when he could help it.

Robin apparently saw how Harry considered his question. “Harry, you know you can tell us anything and everything. It’s important for you to talk about those things and I have a feeling that it does help you. You can’t keep it all bottled up.”

He almost said something snippy, like ‘Watch me.’, but he didn’t. He didn’t even know where those mean thoughts were coming from and 80 percent of the time he managed to not say them out loud. Maybe it was just another part of his new bad personality.

Perhaps Robin had a point and he should talk more to them about what happened to him. “I'm just scared that I tell you stuff that you can’t handle.” And also, when he told them stuff, they always looked at him with those sad, pitiful eyes for half a day after it.

“That shouldn’t be a concern of yours, really. We want you to talk to us. I mean, if you absolutely don’t want to, that’s fine. You can talk to Doctor Bennett at your next appointment, but we're also here for you.”

Pff, Doctor Bennett. Harry couldn’t even pinpoint what the actual problem with that man was, but he didn’t like him.

“I... I dreamed about... a night where, uhm...” He found it immensely difficult to find words to describe those things.

Robin waited patiently, giving Harry all the time he needed to figure out how to say it.

“It was my third job of the night. It was in a big, expensive hotel in Westminster. It was supposed to be an easy one, no double payment. Uhm, but when I got inside the room, there were six men waiting for me. It looked like they had a party because there was alcohol and coke everywhere and they were all acting like they’d been at it for quite some time. Uhm, I immediately t-tried to run, but two of them grabbed me and I didn’t manage to get them off... Two others helped them to get me over to the bed and they started to rip of my clothes. They... they hurt me really b-bad that night and I woke up hours later, alone, the money thrown all over me and the b-bed. Somehow I made it back h-“, he stopped himself because he tried hard to not call this place home anymore. “T-to the house and there Simon made Ewan beat me again, because I was so late, even though i-it was obvious I had been... hurt. Simon didn’t care at all when I tried to tell him that I'd been unconscious. He was mad that he had to stay up so late, because he never went to bed before he didn’t collect all his money. So yeah... wasn’t a great night.”

Robin stayed silent for a minute, his face looking sad. Then he sighed and got up, walking over to Harry’s part of the sofa and sat down right next to him. “I’m going to hug you now.”, he announced. That had become custom with him and Gemma. Their mum, dad and Robin always made an announcement along those lines before they touched them, because they had flinched one too many times when they didn’t expect it. Harry even had a really bad panic attack after his mum had hugged him without a warning from behind. Hence, it had been established to warn them beforehand.

Robin drew Harry into a tight hug, slowly stroking over his back, thankfully avoiding the part of his right shoulder blade.

“I'm so sorry, Harry.”

“Not your fault.”, he mumbled back.

“I know. I'm still sorry.”

Harry let himself enjoy being held like that. Even though Robin was a big imposing man, he felt safe to him. He simply knew he could trust him with his life. They actually had a conversation about it, right in the beginning at the hospital if Harry felt comfortable around him and if it was okay for him to touch Harry, which just proved to the boy that Robin was someone who could never do what those other men did to him.

So, he let himself be held and felt actually a little bit lighter. It seems Robin had been right, it did help him to talk about it.

“Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime, Harry. You can always come to me.”

The younger man nodded into his step-fathers shoulder, relaxing his body a bit more.

“Are you tired?”

“Always. But I can’t go back to sleep.”

“How about you just lie down right here and I look out for you, hm? You don’t have to sleep, but if you do, I'll be right here to wake you up again if the nightmares come back.”

That actually didn’t sound too bad. He felt bone-tired and maybe he could just rest his head a bit. “Okay.”

They shuffled around a bit, Robin staying seated, while Harry put a pillow right next to Robin’s lap and curled up beside him under his blanket. And with his step-father slowly petting his hair, he actually dared to close his eyes again.

“You are a whiny little bitch! How dare you to come back this late!”

“B-but they knocked me out! I-I'm sorry!”, he cried. He hid his swollen face behind his hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Stop crying like a fucking baby! Ewan! Teach him a fucking lesson!”

“No! Please! No! I-I’ll do anything! Please, don’t make him hurt me, please! No-no-no-no! Pleeeeease!”

“Harry.”

“Please! Don’t! Please!”

“Harry, wake up, my dear.”

With a gasp he woke up, his whole body trembling and he let out a sob, that came out so suddenly that it hurt his throat.

“It’s alright, my boy. You're home and you are safe. It was just a dream. You're safe.”, Robin murmured soothingly, while his large hand rubbed over his back.

They were still in the living room and it was still dark outside and Harry still lay on the sofa right beside him. The urge for comfort was overwhelming and he half crawled, half wriggled shakily up into Robin’s lap, flopping down there and immediately he was engulfed by his strong arms.

“Shhhhhh, you’re okay now. No one can touch you here. You’re safe.”

Would he ever be normal again? Would he ever be able to just sleep? God, he craved to be high right now. Just some tiny pill or two and he'd feel better. He'd be able to rest. The feeling got so bad, that he started to squirm, his hands acting on their own as they started to scratch on his neck and torso.

“Hey, no, none of that.”, Robin said calmly and got a hold of Harry’s wrist, gently sliding his own fingers between Harry’s to immobilise them. “Do you have cravings again?”

“I just want to sleep!”, Harry sobbed out, not caring that he probably had snot running all over his face.

“I know. I know. But you know you can’t go back to those habits, Harry.”

The thing was, he fucking knew okay? He knew and still he wanted to feel that relief. He knew it was unhealthy and that he had an addiction and still all he wanted was some kind of tranquilising fucking pill to help him sleep! To not feel on the brink of an anxiety attack all of the time! The pills he was allowed to take, did a shit job of that! He could eat grass and it would have the same effect as those fucking things!

He struggled a bit against Robin’s hold, but the man didn’t budge, holding Harry tightly without hurting him.

“This feeling will pass, Harry. It will go away and you will be able to sleep on your own. It just needs time.”

“I... I-I can’t,  Robin. I just... I want to sleep. I want... just once. Just one.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he wasn’t even sure what he was saying.

“Shhhhhh. Calm down, dear. The feeling will pass. Take some deep breaths now.”

And Harry gave in and copied Robin’s deep, calm breaths because that was simply all he could do. As if Robin would suddenly say ‘Oh just one pill? That’s fair enough, here I actually have some valium in my pocket. Take them.’ The chances of that happening were lower that zero, hence Harry had no choice than give up and try to calm down, even though it felt like his veins and muscles and nerves were all screaming bloody murder.

After a while, he did calm down a bit, as his breathing matched Robin’s and wasn’t as erratic anymore.

“That’s it. Well done, Harry.”

Robin’s hold of Harry’s hands loosened a bit and he started to draw soothing circles with his thumbs.

“I'm sorry.”, the boy sniffed.

“Don’t apologise. I can’t imagine how hard it is and I'm so bloody proud of you for getting through this so well.”

A wet and short laugh escaped Harry’s lips. “I don’t feel like I'm doing well.”

“Well, have you taken a pill that isn’t on your medication list?”

“No?”

“Then you’re doing well.”

Maybe it was put a bit too simply, but when Robin said it like that, it didn’t sound all too bad. Harry clutched onto that thought, concentrating on keeping his breathing steady and after a while, he felt like he wouldn’t immediately sprint out of the house to search for some drugs, if Robin let go of him.

But he stayed in his lap, just to be sure and also just because he needed it.

Anne found them like that, clad in a fluffy grey and silver morning robe, her hair messy and a bit too voluminous.

“There you both are. What happened? Are you okay, baby?” Her voice was worried as she rounded the sofa to kneel before them.

“We’re perfectly fine, right my boy?”

Harry nodded and gave his mum a tentative little smile, even though it was obvious that he had a breakdown not so long ago.

Anne reached out and wiped under Harry’s eyes, drying his face of tears, giving him a warm smile of her own, even though her eyes seemed tired and sad. “How about I make us all some breakfast, hmm? I can do a fry-up, how about that?”

“Sounds lovely, mum.”, Harry nodded, even though his stomach was still feeling like it twisted around itself several times. But it made his mum happy, if she could cook for Gemma and him. It was obvious that both her children had been way to skinny when they returned home and she made it her mission to reverse that. With more or less success. Harry never passed on a meal, simply because the memory of being hungry and having nothing to eat was still too fresh in his mind. Gemma on the other hand, seemed to have a bit more trouble on that front. It was actually some of the only signs she was showing that she wasn’t alright. Sometimes she simply refused to eat, claiming she wasn’t hungry at that moment or she would sit there pushing the meal around her plate, only acting like she was eating. But it wasn’t like she wasn’t eating at all. If that was the case, their parents would've already intervened. Like this, she simply made slower progress on the weight-gaining front than her brother.

“Come on, let’s help your mum.”, Robin said, giving Harry a last squeeze before they got up and followed Anne into the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Harry sat on the passenger seat of Robin’s Volvo, staring solemnly out on the pavement next to him.

“I’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?”

“Hm.”, he made, showing no inclination to leave the car.

“Harry, you know that it’ll help you, right?”, sighed his step-father.

The boy frowned, turning his head further away. “I just don’t like him.”

“You promised to give him a chance.”

He knew that he said that, thank you very much. After his last appointment with Doctor Bennett, he had been in an absolutely foul mood and told his parents that he refused to go back there ever again. The therapist just gave off a strange vibe and Harry didn’t like him at all. But his mum had begged him to continue therapy, as it hadn’t been easy to find a therapist for him and Gemma in the first place. After a long and tiring conversation, he promised to give Doctor Bennett another chance, but it didn’t mean that Harry was looking forward to his session with him.

“You’re going to be late, Harry. I’ll see you in an hour.” Robin’s tone got a bit firmer and Harry knew he had no choice than to get out of the car.

He simply huffed out an annoyed breath, opened the door and closed it with a bit more momentum than necessary.

He wrapped his new winter coat a bit tighter around himself and walked the few steps over to the entrance of the building the therapist’s office was located in. He entered and walked over to the lift, to take it up to the third floor. There he knocked on the door and entered the familiar reception area.

The receptionist, a woman in her fifties, with a hairstyle that had to be inspired by Queen Elisabeth II , looked up and smiled at him.

“Ah, Mr Styles. Right on time, you can go through to the office directly. Doctor Bennett is already waiting for you.”

“Thanks.”, he nodded and trotted down the short hallway, where the door to Doctor Bennett’s room stood already open for him.

Still, he knocked on the door frame before he entered, announcing his presence like this.

The therapist sat behind his desk, reading through some file, as he looked up and gave Harry a smile, that showed all of his unnaturally white teeth.

“Hello Harry, come in and sit down.”

“Hello.”, he answered quietly and walked over to the sitting area which consisted out of an arm chair in which Bennett always sat and two green love seats. Before taking a seat, Harry chucked off his coat, placing it over the back of the sofa.

Doctor Bennett came over, asking if he’d like a tea or a fizzy drink. Harry shook his head and the man shrugged and flopped down into his arm chair, a note pad and a biro in hand.

“So, Harry, how are you today?”

Now it was his turn to shrug, keeping his gaze down on his hands in his lap. “Don’t know. Okay I guess.”

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

Harry suppressed a sigh. The man was getting on his nerves already. “I didn’t sleep well.”, he conceded.

“Are you still having nightmares?”

He nodded. “Every night.”

“Did you try the meditation technique before bed that we talked about last time?”

Again he nodded. “Yes. It doesn’t help.” It was true. He really did try the breathing and thinking of nice stuff and listening to calming music before bed and stuff, because even though he didn’t like Bennett, he still wanted to fucking sleep and he took all the help he got with that.

“I'm sad to hear that, bit you should keep on doing it. We can also go through some other techniques if you want to. We can even ask your parents to maybe join in and guide you through it. Maybe that will help.”

Harry nodded. “Okay.”

“Any dream in particular you maybe want to talk about?”

Harry considered the question for a moment. He knew he should talk about his nightmares, but opening up to a person you didn’t like was hard. But he promised his mum.

“Uhm, I don’t know. It’s mostly memories of times I got hurt... uhm, last night, uhm, I dreamed of my first night... uhm, with Simon.”

“Okay, do you mean the night Simon raped you the first time?”

A cold shiver ran down his back when the doctor said that. He absolutely despised it when Bennett used that word, even though Harry knew it was the correct term.

“Yeah.”, he mumbled.

“Alright, do you want to tell me about it?”

Not really. “Uhm... I don’t know. I... It’s just still so... I remember strange details somehow and other parts are completely blurry. I still know how the desk smelled of wood polish and that a burning cigarette lay in the ashtray next to my head. But I don’t remember how I got the bruise on my arm. I only saw it the next day when I woke up.”

“That’s totally normal. We talked about that before. Many people only remember bits and pieces of traumatic events. It’s how your brain tries to protect you from it.”

“Then why didn’t it block out the part where he rammed himself inside me with no prep at all?”, Harry muttered.

“Sadly, we don’t get to choose what we remember. The last time you mentioned this, you said you've been a virgin. Let’s talk about that. How does it make you feel when you think about that?”

Oh man, really? Harry desperately wanted to pull up his knees, to curl up and hug his knees for comfort, but he didn’t want to get the sofa dirty with his shoes. “Uhm... Not great obviously.”

“Of course, but maybe try and put it into a few more words?”

Okay, as it seems, there was no avoiding that question. He started to fiddle nervously with his fingers. “Uhm, I... I think I feel sad about it. And angry.”

“Why sad and angry?”

“It... I am sad that I didn’t experience... uhm, that I didn’t do it with someone I like. I always thought I’d loose my virginity with someone I like or even love. Yeah, with someone I love, I think. I always wanted that and it’s kinda sad that I... that I didn’t get that. And it makes me angry because... He... He was old, I mean, he’s in his fifties I think and I had just turned sixteen. He... He asked me if I was a virgin and I said yes because I thought maybe he would cut me some slack then, but he didn’t. He knew it was my first time and... He still just fucked me with no consideration whatsoever. He didn’t care if he was hurting me. No lube, no prep, nothing. I think he even liked it that I screamed so much. That makes me angry.”

“That are totally valid feelings.”, Doctor Bennett nodded, scribbling away on his note pad. “You said you wanted to have your first time with someone you loved. Maybe let’s talk about that bit at first. How did you imagine your first time?”

“Definitely not with an ugly old man who planned on selling me.”, Harry scoffed bitterly. “I... I don’t know. It seems so long ago. And... It feels kind of stupid... I always imagined it to be... romantic. Like candles and some nice music. And like I said, with someone I loved. I imagined they would be gentle and sweet and stuff.”

“They? Does this mean you aren’t sure if you wanted it to be a boy or a girl?”

Oh. He didn’t even realised he used a gender neutral pronoun. “Oh... I... I had a similar conversation with Louis one night. He told me he was gay and I said I didn’t know what I am. Honestly, I still don’t know. I...” He sighed, a bit frustrated with himself. “Before I was taken, I think I - I mean I kissed some girls but also a boy. And I liked both, I think? I don’t know. I never really got the chance to figure it out. I mean, the boy was a one time thing and afterwards we both felt awkward, but it was mainly because a girl from my class walked in on us and she looked a bit shocked and we didn’t do it again because we didn’t want to be... gossiped about you know? And then Simon came and ruined everything and he didn’t even ask if I was gay or bi or something. He just decided I had to have sex with men now.”

“Okay, we can work with that. So, you said you did enjoy kissing both genders. That can mean you aren’t straight. Sexuality is a spectrum and there is no pressure whatsoever to define where you are located on that scale. You also said something pretty important. You acknowledged that Simon took away your choice. He decided for you. That’s a good observation. You should always be able to choose if and with whom you have sex.”

Harry nodded, looking down at his cuticles. Shit, his thumb was slightly bleeding again, because he picked at it too much.

“And now? Did you think of sex at all since you came home?”

Now Harry vehemently shook his head.

“No? Not at all?”

He kept on shaking his head. “I... I don’t... It... I think I can’t think about it. I mean... I-“ he stopped himself, too embarrassed to go on.

“It’s okay, Harry. Deep breath. In and out... Good. Try again.”

Why did Bennett want to talk about that so badly? Couldn’t they talk about something else? The weather? Anything? The topic made him feel nauseous. “I, uhm, I think I avoid thinking about it. Like... I only have bad memories. And... I don’t know.”

“So you avoid thinking about sex so you don’t think about the bad memories?”

Harry nodded. “I know I shouldn’t... I mean, I'm twenty, it should be normal for me to think about it, right? But... anything related to that... it scares me.”

“Can you tell me why it scares you?”

What an absolutely dumb question. “Because I don’t want to have a flashback or something.”

“Did that happen?”

“I... Uhm...” Harry’s cheeks turned red in embarrassment. “I woke up, uhm... Two times, I woke up with an erection and I panicked and then there were all kinds of memories of times where I... sometimes when... sometimes I did get an erection when I had sex with those men.” It felt like he had ants under his skin talking about that. This was so fucking embarrassing. “I d-didn’t want to, but... I couldn’t help it somet-times. Some of them liked it when I got off and so... I...”, he choked on his words and pressed his eyes shut, trying hard to not let the tears escape.

“Okay, I understand. It’s alright, Harry. Deep breaths, like we practiced. In, one two three four and out, one two three four.” Doctor Bennett’s annoyingly calm voice guided Harry through his breakdown, until he calmed down enough.

“Harry, you know that you don’t have to feel ashamed that you felt aroused sometimes and got an erection, or even climaxed? It’s a natural reaction from your body. Your body doesn’t necessarily know that you didn’t give your consent. Many victims of rape experience that. You couldn’t help it and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know.”, he croaked. “Still... it felt so wrong. I didn’t want it and still sometimes it felt... I didn’t like it and it still felt good sometimes.”

“I understand. So, this is why you panicked when you woke up with an erection?”

He nodded again. “It... It just reminded me of... I mean, I had a nightmare and I still woke up hard. That’s strange isn’t it? That sounds like I... god, that sounds like I get turned on from my nightmares.”

“Harry I don’t think that’s the case. It is called nocturnal penile tumescence. A healthy man, especially younger men, get an erection several times a night. It has nothing to do with sexual arousal or a sex related dream. It is a normal bodily function that shows that you are healthy. In my opinion, you just got a bit unlucky and woke up from your nightmare at the same time.”

Oh, Harry didn’t know that. “Oh... you think so?”

“Yes. Maybe we should talk about what you should do, the next time this happens.”

“Can’t we talk about something else?”, he asked quietly, feeling massively uncomfortable with the whole topic.

“I know that’s a delicate topic, but we should talk about coping techniques as much as possible.”

“I-I know, but...”, he didn’t actually know what he could say to make Bennett change the subject. “Okay. What am I supposed to do?”, he agreed instead, not feeling up to the challenge of disagreeing. 

Dr Bennett then spoke verbosely about everything Harry could and should try next time he had a boner, totally disregarding the fact that Harry just sat there, barely listening because he felt so uneasy.

Luckily for Harry, the hour was up by the end of his therapist’s tirade. When he left the office he felt strange. Like the dam that held back all his built-up memories and emotions was about to spill over. Wasn’t he supposed to feel better after those appointments?

He reached Robin’s car like he was in a trance and got in without a word, staring ahead, concentrating on not freaking out. He felt the need to run. He needed to get away from... everything. He needed a break. A break from supposedly getting better.

“Harry?” There was an urgency to Robin’s voice, so he turned to look at him.

“Hm?”

“Are you alright? I already asked three times.”

“Oh... sorry. Yeah.”, he made and then turned again, watching the road ahead without actually seeing it.

Robin must've decided to leave him alone, because he didn’t speak to him again.

After the 15 minute drive back to their house, Harry simply got out of the car and walked inside and up to his room. He just needed a moment to get himself back under control.

He paced through the room, not feeling like he could sit down. By accident he brushed over the hard outlines of his phone in his pocket.

Louis.

He got it out, considering if he could actually call him, or if he was at work. But if he was, he would tell him so. He always did.

So he dialled Louis number and waited.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Louis? Are you at work?”, he asked, completely skipping the pleasantries.

“I am, but I'm off in two hours. Is something the matter?” Louis sounded slightly concerned, probably because of Harry’s way of not-greeting him.

“Uhm... no. No. Just wanted to say hi. Sorry to bother you at work. Uhm, yeah, sorry.”

“Harry, it’s alright, I actually got a moment, if you want to talk.”

God, why was Louis so... perfect?

“Uhm... are you sure? I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“Love, I'm drinking a coffee in the doctor’s lounge, I won’t get into trouble.”

“Oh. Okay. Uhm...” Why did he even call Louis again? “I... I don’t know. I... don’t feel... good.” Wow that was lame and sounded like he had an IQ of 20.

“Okay. Why? What happened?” The doctor ignored Harry’s demonstration of dumbness and obviously opted to concentrate on the essence of Harry’s statement with his usual calmness.

Harry fisted his hair. “I don’t know. I just had therapy and... I-“ His voice broke and suddenly he was crying.

“Oh, Harry. Sounds like it was a tough session.”

“Yeah.”, he snivelled.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t even know! I- I feel like there-... I can’t handle... being me! And in therapy, all about we talk is me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep in another outburst.

“I know it his hard, love. Therapy tends to suck before it helps. But you have to push through.”

“Everybody tells me that. I... I don’t think...”

“You don’t think what, love?”

Harry took in a deep and shaky breath. “It’s all too much, Louis. I can’t sleep. I keep shouting at my parents without any reason. My mum looks so sad all he time. I keep thinking about pills. And therapy doesn’t feel like it’s helping at all. And I hate Doctor Bennett.”

“Harry, listen closely now. It might seem right now like it’s not going to get better, but it will! I've seen so many hopeless cases, but you’re not one of them! You are so strong, love, you just don’t know it yet. I just know you can do it!”

Harry took in Louis words, letting them wash over him like the soothing caress of a warm wave. Louis believed in him. He didn’t know why it meant so much more to him than from any other person.

“Thank you.”, he sniffed, rubbing his eyes.

“No need to thank me, I'm just stating facts here- wait a second... Give me one minute! I'll be right there.” Obviously Louis was speaking to another person right now.

“Do you have to go?”

“Yes, I'm sorry, love. There is a bike accident coming in. I'll call you back as soon as I can, okay?”

“Yes, of course. Go save lives.”

“Alright, I'll talk to you later. Sorry! Bye!” With that Louis hung up, apparently in a hurry, which was understandable. He was a doctor. He had an important job and was actually saving lives.

Even though Harry felt marginally better, he was again hit with the realisation that he didn’t have an important job, or even an unimportant one. All he did was struggle with his daily routines, making his family’s lives harder.

He stood there in his childhood room, unsure what to do with himself, until there was a knock on his door.

“Yes?”

The door opened and revealed his mother. “Hey, baby. Are you okay?”

He huffed out a breath, closing his eyes. “Yes, sorry.”

She came in slowly, almost like she didn’t want to spook him. “Are you sure? Robin said you were a bit off on your way home.”

Again he filled his lungs deeply and sighed, before flopping down on his bed. “Therapy's just hard.”

“Aw, baby, I know. But just the fact that you’re going there, shows that you're doing well.” She came over and sat down next to him, closely but still far enough that she wasn’t accidentally touching him.

“Where exactly am I doing well, mum? I don’t know who you’ve been watching but from my perspective it’s an absolute fucking shitshow.”

“Language, Harry.”, she reprimanded and he almost rolled his eyes. “I've been watching you and it’s not a shitshow!”

He almost said ‘Language, mum.’, but opted for brooding silence instead.

“Really, baby. You may not see your development, but we do. In the beginning, you flinched at every loud noise or voice around you and almost had a panic attack. Now you-

“Still flinch.”, he interjected dryly.

“Yes, but you bounce back so much faster. Even if the change is not noticeable to you yet, Robin and your dad and me and Gemma can see it.”

“Yeah, alright.”, he said dismissively.

“Come on, baby. None of that. Let’s go down and have a cuppa.”

Typically his mother. Everything was curable with some tea.

Chapter Text

That night, he woke up bathed in sweat, breathing heavily. It was half past fucking three in the morning and he was wide awake and shaking in absolute panic in his bed. He went through his techniques, trying to breath calmly and count. He went through the 3-3-3 rule, naming 3 things he could see, hear and touch. He tried muscle relaxation, where he was supposed to tense certain muscles for a few seconds and then deliberately relax them. But he was tense all over and breathing didn’t fucking work and how was looking at stuff supposed to help?

He struggled out of his bed, standing upright and then leaning forward, hands on his knees to get air into his lungs. He knew he was supposed to sit or lie down and try to relax, but it simply felt impossible.

What was making it worse, was that his body was so fucking tired. He maybe slept for four hours, the night before 5 and again four before that. He was so tired and his body was acting like he just ran a marathon.

He started to understand what the phrase ‘reaching one’s breaking point’ meant.

His mind was attacked with random images and memories, all while he was panicking over the fact that he didn’t breathe properly.

Fuck it.

He needed something to calm down.

He needed to sleep.

He couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

In a knee-jerk reaction, he started to get dressed, got his phone and his purse and left his room, sneaking downstairs. There he put on his shoes and left. He didn’t know where he was supposed to find drugs in this village. Holmes Chapel didn’t even have a population of 6000. Everything except for two petrol stations was closed. Shit.

In London, he would know where to go. But he didn’t have any means to get to London. A train ride there would take fucking hours. Manchester was the next best thing, but still it was a forty-five minutes car or train ride away. He didn’t have a driver’s licence and the first train would leave around six-ish, seven-ish.

So, it seems like he was stuck here.

Petrol station it was then. If he couldn’t get any pills, hard liquor would be the next best thing.

He knew there was none in the house, except for a bottle of wine and two bottles of beer, because his mum was careful to keep it like that. Her and Robin threw the whole content of their liquor cabinet into the garbage the day Harry and Gemma arrived home. “Just to be on the safe side.”, Anne had said.

Harry walked down the street with quick, long steps, hugging his winter coat tightly around him. The air was fucking cold and that did help to some degree with his breathing. Also the fact that he now had a goal, a destination to concentrate on, made it a bit easier to push away those haunting memories. He shuddered, glad that he owned that new coat, but honestly, he was used to being outside when it was freezing. He walked the streets with much less clothes on when it was snowing, so he couldn’t exactly complain right now.

His feet took him to the old petrol station near his home all by themselves. It was lit up and after the gloomy streetlights, he had to squint his eyes harshly.

He entered through the glass door into the warm shop, seeing a man with oily hair and badly shaven beard sitting behind the counter, playing on his phone.

“Mornin'”, he greeted gruffly and Harry only nodded in return. Then he looked around. Bingo. There was a whole shelf just with hard liquor.

What should he drink? Did it even matter? The main point was getting wasted, not having a bloody liquor tasting session.

He reached blindly into the shelf, pulling out a bottle of tequila. It should be strong enough to make him sleep.

He walked over to the counter, putting it on there, waiting for the man to do his job. With a loud sigh, like Harry was a massive inconvenience, the man put his phone aside and stood up, stepping up to the counter.

“Jus' that?”

“Yes.”

The man squinted his eyes at him. “You're 18 right?”

“I'm 20.”

“Alright.”, he shrugged and scanned the bottle.

A little part of Harry wanted to tell the man off, that if he wasn’t 18 he surely wouldn’t say it. The man should check his ID.

“You know, it’s the middle of the week right?”, the man said.

“And?”

“Well.” The man looked pointedly at the bottle.

“It’s for a party.”

“Of course.”, the man said dryly. “Need anything else for that party of yours?”

“No.”

“Alright. That’s 24,50£”

Harry handed over a fifty pound note. He never mentioned the money he kept after his last two jobs to anyone, so he still had it.

He got his change back and then he left again.

Should he drink it at home? The thing was, it was fucking cold. If it had been summer, Harry would have stayed outside gladly, but like this... between the choices of drinking quietly in his room and freezing his arse of, he knew what he was choosing.

So he walked back home quickly, getting back inside the house as quietly as he could and then back up to his room. He got out of his coat, slumping onto his bed.

“Cheers.”, he mumbled quietly to himself, unscrewing the bottle and just drank straight from it, gulping it down until a quarter was gone from it. He scrunched up his face and wheezed, because it burned in his mouth and throat and the taste was absolutely foul. But if he could swallow some strangers cum, he could definitely handle this.

He squinted at the bottle, contemplating of how much he should drink. If he drank too much, he would just throw it up but if he drank too little, it wouldn’t have the required effect.

“Fuck it.”, he decided and downed another one or two big gulps of it, before he put the lit back on. He looked around his room. He should definitely hide it, because his parents would be less than amused to find out that he was drinking. Actually he wasn’t even allowed to drink with his medication, but he figured that he did much worse to his body, so he'd be fine.

He got up and put the bottle into the back of his wardrobe, closing the doors of it quietly.

When he turned, he had to stop in his tracks because the room started to spin a bit already. Wow that was fast.

He slowly took of his clothes, struggling a bit to get back into his pyjama pants and his old sleep shirt. Only then he crawled back into his bed, lying on his side. He should sleep like this, just in case he overdid it and threw up in his sleep.

The tequila rushed through his bloodstream like a bullet train, making him woozy.

He let his eyes flutter shut and actually smiled as he passed out, because finally, he felt light, unburdened.

“Harry? Harry, baby, wake up.”

He groaned and turned his face into his pillow, not at all ready to wake up. Immediately a dull ache in his head settled in, gradually becoming stronger.

“Hey, are you okay, baby? Are you sick?”, his mum’s voice asked.

“No, I’m fine.”, he grumbled into the pillow.

“Are you sure? You never slept this long, since... Well, you slept pretty long.”

“’M just tired.”, he muttered.

“I know. But it seems like you got some sleep after all, hmm?”

“What time's it?”

“Almost eleven... what’s that smell by the way?”

Now that finally made him open his eyes, squinting up at his mum, through the mess of his curls. She looked around the room with a frown, her nose turned up like she was trying to identify the source of the smell.

Shit. Harry forgot that he would stink up his room with his liquor breath. That seemed to be a major flaw in his genius plan, he realised belatedly.

“Uhm, I cleaned my desk last night with bathroom cleaner, because I was to lazy to go down to the kitchen to get something else.”, he lied, hoping she wouldn’t actually have a look at his desk, because he was sure it didn’t look like it had been cleaned at all.

“Oh, okay. That’s probably it.”, she said lightly, now smiling faintly. “Come, sleepyhead, breakfast is waiting for you downstairs.”

She got up from the edge of his bed and Harry groaned faintly again, because his head fucking hurt. Still, he didn’t regret drinking that tequila one bit. It had been totally worth it. He couldn’t remember if he had been dreaming, but if he had, he at least didn’t wake up from it. A win is a win, even though he had to pay the price now.

The twenty year old took his dear time with getting out of his bed, rubbing his temples once he was on his feet. Shit, oxy had given him headaches too, but not to this extend. He just needed to power through it, eat his breakfast and drink a lot of water, then he'd be fine.

After going to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and using the toilet, he scuffled downstairs and into the kitchen.

“What the hell happened to you, little brother? You look like shit.”

He glared at Gemma, who sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, sipping from a huge cup of tea.

“Language, Gemma.”, Anne scolded her, while she piled pancakes onto a plate for Harry.

“Okay, you look like something that belongs into a toilet bowl. Better?”

Anne gave her daughter a dry look and Harry took the opportunity to pour himself a glass of water, gulping it down.

“I think I forgot to drink enough yesterday. I have a headache.”, Harry explained to his sister.

“Yeah, looks like it. You’re all pale and stuff.”

“Wow, Gem, you should stop giving me compliments, really.”, the younger sibling quipped, while he sat down on the barstool next to her.

She snorted out a laugh through her nose.

“That’s enough now, you two. Here, baby.” His mum put down a plate of pancakes, a small bowl of yogurt with fresh fruits and his pillbox that contained his medication in front of him.

Firstly he opened the box and simply poured all of the pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

His sister gave off a gagging sound. “I'll never get over how you can just swallow them like that.”

He turned and gave her a deadpan look. Really? Wasn’t one of his main problems that he swallowed pills like they were sweets?

Gemma slapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. “Oh.”, she laughed. “Oops.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, but he shook his head and turned to his breakfast, not feeling like joining in with her laughter.

The next night, he went to bet without tequila, ending up screaming like a banshee in the middle of the night, waking up the whole house and probably their neighbours, too. Hence, the next night, he got the bottle out of his wardrobe, slugging it down until it was empty and waited until he passed out again.

When his mum woke him up the next morning, she was looking around the room suspiciously, again inquiring about the source of the weird smell.

He knew he couldn’t use the same lame lie from last time, so he just shrugged, while he tried hard not to look like his head was splitting in two.

“Harry...”, she frowned and leaned over him. “Breathe in my face, now.”

“What? Why?”, he groaned like it was such a weird thing to ask, feeling totally panicky on the inside.

“Harry, now.”

“No, I have morning breath.”, he refused childishly.

“Harry!”, his mother said sternly, her voice getting louder and more demanding, which made him flinch away from her.

Her face became a tad softer and she said: “Sorry, I didn’t want to yell. Now let me smell your breath.”

He did it, because he was programmed to listen when someone yelled at him and also he knew that he couldn’t refuse.

His mum leaned back quickly, looking down at him with wide eyes. “Harry, did you drink something?”

“No.”, he answered and he himself heard how it came out much too quick and sounded too much like a lie.

Obviously his mum heard it, too, because her eyebrows drew together and her expression turned into a mix of anger and disappointment. “Harry, I can smell it on your breath, don’t lie to me. Tell me right now, did you drink something?”

He shrank back from her, feeling how his mind wanted to simply submit to her angry voice.

No! That wasn’t him anymore! And he did the only thing that he could think of, that wouldn’t make him turn into a submissive piece of shit. He snapped at her. “So what if I did?! I'm 20 years old! I can have a drink if I want to!”

His mum got up, shaking her head, obviously fed up with him. “No  Harry you can’t! You’re a recovering addict! It doesn’t matter if your problem is with drugs, you can’t drink and you know that! Also, you’re on so much medication, do you know what could happen?”

He glared angrily up at his mother, feeling white hot rage bubbling up inside of him, that he couldn’t control. “Don’t call me an addict!”, he shouted and flung off his duvet, jumping ungracefully out of his bed.

“But Harry, you are and you know that! Where is the alcohol?” She now looked around his room again, trying to figure out the hiding place of it.

“I'm not telling you!”, he refused loudly, even though it was silly, because it was empty anyway.

“Harry, stop the attitude and tell me right now where it is!”, Anne yelled and it took Harry everything not to flinch back like he was slapped. The part of his mind that was the weakest, started to play memory after memory of Simon yelling at him exactly like this.

He shook his head, to clear it. “No! And now get out of my room!”

His mum’s eyes widened in anger and shock.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Harry looked over to the door, breathing hard, seeing his sister stand there. She looked completely lost.

“Fuck off, Gemma!”, Harry screamed.

“Harry! Stop it at once!”, Anne reprimanded him harshly, when his sister looked at him in shock, eyes watering as if she was about to cry in a second or two.

“No! I'm not a fucking toddler anymore! You can’t control every single part of my life! Now get out of my room! GET OUT!”

Firstly his sister stormed off and after Anne looked at him with an expression that showed her utter disappointment in him, she turned and followed Gemma, probably to comfort her.

Harry stood there for a second, breathing like he just sprinted to fucking Timbuktu and back.

Fuck, what had he done? Panic started to settle in. He yelled at his mum. He yelled at his sister, who was probably crying right now. Robin would be so disappointed in him when Anne told him about what Harry did.

He needed to get out. He couldn’t face the consequences.

He jerked into action and ripped an old backpack from his wardrobe, throwing in random clothing items, his purse and phone and then dressed as quickly as he could. He slipped into some sneakers, because his boots were downstairs and he wouldn’t go down there.

He popped open his window, shouldering the backpack and climbed out onto the windowsill. It was actually pretty easy to get down to the ground. He did it a few times as a teenager to meet some of his friends after his bedtime.

He just had to step over onto the little roof above the entrance door and then glide down, hanging from his fingertips and then simply let go. As he was quite tall, the fall wasn’t deep, only a few inches.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he took off as if he was chased. Well, he was chased, but by nothing he could run from. It was his conscience and some really bad memories. Both were inside his head.

Still he ran and ran until he reached the train station. He had more luck than he deserved, because a train to Crewe just arrived. From there he could change into a train to London.

Wait he was going to London?

Fuck it. Yes he was. In London he could forget.

As if in trance, he got into the train, not even buying a ticket. Luckily, in the ten minute ride to Crewe, no conductor was in sight.

When he got off the train, he bought a ticket and waited for the train to Euston. It seemed like his brain shut off completely and only as he walked out of the train station in London, it started working again.

Fuck. Fuck, what did he do? What did he do?!

Shit, he was on the brink on a panic attack. He could feel it.

He needed to calm down.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He fucked up so bad.

He... needed to calm down. Something to calm down.

If you were looking for people who sold, you could find them. Normally, as long as you didn’t look all to suspicious or buttoned-up, someone would approach you sooner or later. But Harry couldn’t wait for that. He started walking, turning the corner and nearly cried with relief when he saw a young man lounging against the wall of the building, casually smoking a cigarette, looking suspiciously unsuspicious.

Harry approached him slowly, not wanting to startle him, but one look by the man at Harry and he nodded at him. Harry probably looked like a proper mess, his need for a downer written all over his face.

“What'd’ya need?”, the man simply asked.

Harry tried to regulate his breathing so he could speak without sounding like a total idiot. “Do you have oxy?”

“Sure thing.”, he nodded. “But you can also have some TNT, you look like you need it.”

Harry shook his head. TNT was fentanyl. That drug was fucking strong. He just wanted to calm down, not shoot himself into nirvana.

“No, just some oxy.”

“Alright.”, the dude shrugged and the deal was over an done with in merely a minute.

The boy then walked off, finding the next public toilet. He couldn’t wait for the oxy to do it’s magic orally. He needed it now.

He let himself into a cubicle and cleaned the top of the cistern with the sanitizer on the wall and some toilet paper and then used the corner of his phone to crush one of the 3 pills he had in his pocket,

He got out his purse, using his ID to form two lines. His hands shook too bad for them to be straight, but it would have to do. He reached into his purse again and fished out a tenner and rolled it up. He quickly snorted the chunky powder through it. His eyes started to water immediately and he had the unpleasant, bitter taste of the pill on the back of his tongue.

He straightened up again, sniffling. He knew he shouldn’t have done that. He knew it. But that’s the thing with an addiction. You knew it was bad and you did it anyways.

He was aware that the effect would set in pretty soon and he didn’t want to stay here in this dirty public toilet. So, he stumbled out of it, out into the busy streets of London. He walked around aimlessly, feeling the high hit him and honestly, it was the best feeling he felt in a long time. God, he missed feeling like this. He felt feather-light, euphoric even and he didn’t give two fucks about what people were thinking, but most importantly: his own thoughts were moving like slugs on weed. It was great.

He walked to keep himself warm. He knew that if he sat down, he would sleep and the air was too fucking cold for that. Maybe he should get a hotel room? Or a bed in a hostel? He did have some money left...

But something in him was hesitant to spend it all at once. And then there was the blaring horn of an ambulance , which was driving past him.

His train of thought actually went like this: Ambulance – hospital – Doctors – Louis.

Louis. Louis would let him sleep at his place. Louis always helped him.

Great idea. But Louis wouldn’t like the fact that Harry was high and probably relieve him of his remaining pills. Harry frowned at that thought, fumbled inside of his right pocket and fished out the two pills. Better take them, than let Louis throw them away.

He popped them into his mouth, swallowing them down and only then he made his way to the next tube station to get to Soho. He didn’t have an Oyster Card anymore, so he bought a single ticket at a ticket machine, before he made his way down to the platform somehow.

Jesus Christ, he was high and it was getting worse. Or better, it all depended on the point of view. Harry actually liked the feeling, even though he had a hard time concentrating enough to get out at the right stop.

On his way up out of the tube he needed to stop twice to gather himself, because it felt like he wasn’t walking as straight as he should. But somehow he made it to Louis' street, eventually standing in front of his door.

Without even hesitating or thinking about it twice, he reached out and rang the doorbell.

After a moment, the intercom cracked to life. “Hello?”

“Louis! Hiiii. It’s me. Harry!”, he shouted enthusiastically.

“Harry? What the fuck?” But instead of waiting for an explanation, Louis buzzed the door open.

The twenty year old skipped inside and took the lift up to Louis' floor. At the end of the hallway he could already see the doctor standing inside of his doorway. It actually added to the euphoric feeling in his chest. Louis. He was finally with Louis again.

Harry did his best to walk straight, but he felt that he swayed slightly to the left and right. Oops.

Chapter Text

Louis watched Harry walk towards him and it was obvious that he wasn’t sober. So fucking obvious. Firstly, he walked like a new-born fawn on crack and had a blissed out expression on his face. Secondly, when he was near enough to see his eyes, everything was as clear as day.  His pupils were pinhead-sized.

“Harry.”, he said breathlessly, the shock of seeing him in this state - or seeing him at all really - pushing all the air out of his lungs.

The boy in front of him smiled brightly, although he seemed to have trouble to open his eyes all the way. “Louiiiiiiiiiiiiiis.”, he drawled, suddenly reaching out a hand to steady himself on the doorframe. “It’s so good to see you. I've missed your face, you know?”

Louis stared at him for a long second, needing that tiny moment to regain his composure. Fucking hell, it was nice to hear Harry say that, even though he said it while being high out of his mind. But he couldn’t keep standing here and stare at Harry and his honestly slightly rumpled state. Of course, he still thought that he was the most beautiful boy to ever walk this earth, but he had to say that his hair, that was up in a messy bun, looked a bit...well, messy. Also, it looked like he wore no socks inside of his sneakers and the backpack he was wearing was on the brink of sliding off his shoulders.

“Harry, come in.”, he said, knowing it would be futile to say anything else. Harry was in his own world at the moment and surely he wouldn’t get anything out of him that made sense.

“I was hoping you would say that. I'm sleepy you know.”, his visitor smiled and stepped past him into the hallway, where he took of his shoes in an instant. Harry wore no socks indeed.

“You are? What did you take, hm?”, Louis asked lightly, hoping that his casual tone would lull Harry into a sense of security.

“Oh, uhm, just a bit of oxy.”, was the answer, which Louis sadly expected. Harry didn’t seemed to be bothered at all that he just revealed that he relapsed. He just let his backpack slide to the ground, took off his winter coat and then stumbled on into the living room. Louis followed immediately, watching how Harry made a beeline for the sofa.

“Can I sleep here?”, he asked, pointing at said sofa.

“Yes, but you have to tell me how much you took first and if you have more on you.”

This prompted Harry to pout, seemingly unhappy that he wasn’t allowed to lay down right away.

“Uhm... Well, no I don’t have any more.” It was so obvious that Harry tried to avoid the first part of the question, Louis would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been that serious.

“That’s good. And how much did you take?”

Harry stared at the sofa longingly, swaying a bit. “I'm tired, can I lie down now?”

“No, love, answer the question first.”, he said softly but firmly.

“Well... I snorted one.” Louis immediately picked up on Harry’s weird emphasising of the last word.

“And?”, Louis inquired, because he was sure that wasn’t the whole story.

“And then... Uhm, I popped the other two, too... Oh, hehe, tutu. Tutu.”

Louis felt shock settle in all over again. Harry took 3 pills, probably in a short span of time. If he overdosed, he could stop breathing or his heart could slow down so much he could fall into a coma. The doctor blew out a slow and steadying breath. Harry was still up, breathing and talking, so it didn’t seem life-threatening at the moment. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Harry had the audacity to laugh. Even though, it was a beautiful sight, that Louis wanted to see far more often, this situation was a tad too serious.

But Harry shrugged one shoulder, saying: “Ah, noooo. I don’t think so. When I was beaten up after I saw you first, Brad gave me two pills at once for daaaays. One more won’t make a difference... Can I lie down now?”

Louis felt a bit powerless at this moment. He basically had two options right now. Either he let Harry lie down and he had to personally watch over him, while he slept off his high, or he took him to the hospital. The first option was more risky, because it was totally possible for Harry to fall into a comatose state, without Louis noticing fast enough. But still, even though the hospital would be more safe, Louis was reluctant to take him there. It would mean betraying his trust in a way.

“Yes, you can lie down now, love. Make yourself comfortable.”, Louis sighed and watched as Harry let himself flop down onto the sofa, curling up with a smile.

“That’s so nice of you, Louis. You're really nice. Not everyone's nice, you know? I like you. You don’t yell at me. You’re nice. I really like you.”, the boy rambled, with his eyes already closed.

“Sleep, love.”, Louis said, taking the blanket from the side of the sofa and spread it over the intoxicated boy. Louis had to admit that he looked absolutely angelic with that hint of a smile playing around his lips. He let out another sigh, contemplating what to do now. Why the fuck was Harry even here in London, high like a hot air balloon at that? Did his family know he was here?

Louis jerked his head around, looking for were he discarded his phone. It lay on the coffee table and he quickly picked it up, unlocking it and then stopped in his tracks. Shit he didn’t have any way of contacting Harry’s family, he didn’t have any of their numbers. His eyes scanned over the sleeping boy quickly. Did he have his phone on him? Looking didn’t hurt. So he lifted the blanket and to his chagrin, there seemed to be nothing in the pockets of his trousers. Shit.

But wait, he brought a backpack. He checked Harry’s pulse, just to be sure he was okay and then hurried into the hallway where said backpack lay on its side. He kneeled down, hesitating only for a second, because would Harry mind? Screw it, he thought. If his mum didn’t know where Harry was, she was probably scared shitless.

Hence, he opened the zip and rifled through its content. There was a bit of clothes, which was weird. Why did Harry pack clothes and come to London? Did he plan on visiting Louis? Or someone else?

Then he found what he was looking for. It sported a clear floral bumper case, which he found endlessly endearing. But he couldn’t fawn over a phone case right now. He was on a mission. Luckily it wasn’t turned off and when he tapped the screen, he saw a shitload of missed calls and messages. He just hoped it wasn’t password protected in any way. Again, he was lucky. Most of the calls were from “Mum” but there were also a few from “Gem” and “Dad” and “Robin”. Louis simply clicked the last missed call, which was only a few minutes ago and held the phone to his ear. It rang once, then there was a frantic female voice at the other end. “Harry?! Harry are you there?”

“Uhm, no, this is Louis.”

“Oh my god, Louis! Is Harry with you? Is he alright?”

“Yes, Anne, he's here.”

There was a sound, like a mixture out of a sob and a hiccup. “Is he alright? Tell me my baby is alright, please!”, Harry’s mother sobbed and Louis could make out other voices in the background, but not what they were saying.

“Uhm, I'm going to be completely honest with you, because you’re his mum and you deserve to know the truth.” There was a sharp intake of breath and he realised how bad this must sound. “He isn’t hurt, don’t worry. Uhm, but he seemed to have relapsed. He showed up here like 15 minutes ago and he’s completely high.”

“Oh, no.”, Anne whimpered and it seemed like she was unable to say any more. There was a rustling sound and then there was a male voice.

“Sorry, Anne needs a minute. This is Robin, Harry’s stepdad.”

“Yes, hi Robin. Uhm, I don’t know how much you heard, uh...”

“I heard it. He relapsed. Is he okay though?”

Louis sighed and leaned backwards a bit to catch a glimpse of Harry sleeping placidly on his sofa. “I’m not gonna lie, he admitted to taking 3 oxycodone pills, which is a lot, but he seems to be fine right now. He's asleep and I'll check his vitals every 10 minutes.”

“Do you think he overdosed?”

“Right now it doesn’t look too bad. Like I said, I'll watch him closely and if there are any signs that he's not doing okay anymore, I'll get him to hospital asap.”

“Thank you Louis. Really and thanks for calling us. We were worried sick.”

“Uhm, can I ask why... uhm, why this happened?”

“I guess you deserve to know.” , Robin sighed. “Wait a moment. Darling, he is okay right now. Louis is watching over him. He's okay.” Apparently he was talking to his inconsolable wife.

There were a few words said in the background, then Robin was back. “Sorry, Louis. So, uhm, apparently Harry started to drink in the middle of the night and this morning, Anne found out about it and confronted him and that didn’t go well at all. They had a fight and when Harry was alone in his room afterwards, uhm, it appears like he slipped out of his window and when Anne realised it, it was too late. We couldn’t find him anywhere or reach him on his phone.”

“So, he left after he and his mum had a fight?”

“Yes. Well, Gemma was also involved. God we were worried sick. I don’t know how fast I can be down there, with traffic and all, but I'm going to get in my car as soon as I can, to come and get him.”

“Uhm, yeah, of course. But, uhm, maybe give it until tomorrow morning? He needs to sleep it off anyways and maybe he needs a moment to calm down... Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to tell you what to do, but maybe a few hours of space would be good?”

There was a moment of quietness and then Robin said: “Maybe you’re right. Could you maybe give me your number so we can reach you?”

“Yes of course. Do you have something to write?”

“Yes.”

Louis dictated his number, waiting for Robin to say something afterwards.

“Okay, we're going to wait until morning, but then we're coming to get him.”

“Okay, good. Do you need my address?”

“Yes, sorry, of course I need that as well.”

So Louis told him that, too.

“Thank you so much, Louis. Really, if you hadn’t called, we would be on our way to the police station now.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I'm glad that I can help.”

“Could you tell him that we love him, when he wakes up?”

“Of course!”

After that, they said their goodbyes and Louis put the phone back into the backpack and then hastily went back to the living room to check on Harry.

Luckily, he didn’t need to go to work today, as he already finished his shift and tomorrow was his day off. So he had enough time to sort things out with Harry.

He fell into a routine of checking his pulse and respiration every five to ten minutes and when it didn’t get worse after four hours, he felt like he could breathe a bit lighter. It looked like Harry would be alright. Thank god.

He started to make dinner as quietly as he could as to not disturb the sleeping boy. Louis wasn’t much of a cook, but he did his best to whip up something Harry hopefully liked. Truth be told, he cooked spaghetti and a tomato sauce. It wasn’t anything worth of a Michelin star, but it didn’t taste half bad in his opinion.

When he was done, he dished up two plates and put them on the coffee table, before he sank down next to Harry, gently stroking his temple.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Time to wake up.”

It took a moment, but then Harry scrunched his nose and groaned, turning his head further into the pillow.

“Hey, love, come on. Open your eyes for me.”

At that, Harry blinked his eyes open and they went from small and sleepy to round as marbles in the span of a few seconds. Then Harry turned his head, locking eyes with Louis. It looked like Harry was waiting for a scolding, as he lay there frozen.

To make him feel at ease, Louis gave him a warm smile and gently stroked Harry’s shoulder, which made the boy jerk in surprise. “Hey, love, there you are. How are you feeling?”

After a few seconds, where Harry just kept on staring at Louis, his eyes became moist and he covered his mouth with a shaky hand. “Louis... I'm so sorry. I fucked up.” The boy's voice was gravelly like he had an extremely dry throat.

Louis turned his head from side to side, not a real head shake, more like he was agreeing, without saying it outright. “Don’t worry about that right now. All that matters is that you are safe and okay right now. I'm so glad that you came here, love.”

Apparently, Louis’ words didn’t help at all, because the boy on the sofa was full on crying now.

“Do you want a hug, darling?”

With a heart-breaking sob, Harry nodded and Louis pulled him into his arms, secretly relishing in the feeling of having him so close.

“It’s okay, Harry. Don’t worry. You’re okay, love. Breathe.”

“I-I f-f-fucked up so bad! My...” Another loud sob. “My m-mum...” Sob. “I-I yelled a-at Gem-m-ma”

“It’s alright, love. I promise. I called them and they know where you are and they want me to tell you that they love you. They wanted to come to you straight away, but I told them to give you time until morning, so you can have a bit of space. Was that okay?”

“You... you c-called them?”, Harry whimpered.

“Yes. They were worried sick and so glad that you are alright.”

Harry hugged Louis a bit tighter at his words, burying his face further into the doctor’s neck.

“Thank you.”, he sniffed.

The older man gently stroked over Harry’s back, trying to calm him down further. “It’s alright, love. How about that: We eat dinner and then you tell me what happened, hm?”

To his surprise, Harry agreed and after a minute he slowly sat up.

His face was blotchy and red, his eyes swollen from crying and there was a bit of snot under his nose, which he quickly wiped away. Louis thought he was beautiful.

“Wait, I'll get you a tissue. And a glass of water.”

Harry simply nodded and the doctor made quick work of getting both things for him.

After Harry blew his nose and sipped some water, Louis pointed at the plates on the table. “It’s just spaghetti and tomato sauce, but I think it tasted alright.”

There was a tiny smile on Harry’s face. “It looks great, thank you Louis.”

“No problem, love.”

They ate silently and it was the first time that Louis saw Harry not inhaling his food in a matter of minutes. Probably a good sign. He wasn’t on the brink of starvation anymore.

“Want to tell me now what happened?”

Harry looked sheepish, avoiding to look at Louis directly, instead drawing shapes into the left-over sauce on his plate with his fork. “I don’t know where to start... uhm... you remember when I called you after therapy?”

“Yes, of course! You said you didn’t feel well.”

The boy nodded slowly, still drawing with his fork. “Yeah... I couldn’t sleep... Well, I woke up with a panic attack and I was so, so done. Nothing helped and I just... I needed something to calm me down. To just fucking sleep.”

Louis nodded, because he could understand that.

“So, I got a bottle of tequila from the petrol station and it helped. I slept until 11 and my mum even had to wake me up. I mean, I had a hangover, but I finally slept without waking up from a nightmare. The next night, I didn’t drink and I screamed the fucking house down in the middle of the night. So, the next night I drank the rest of the bottle and again, I slept. But my mum could smell it when she woke me up and we... we had a fight. I-I yelled at her and then I told Gemma to fuck off and I just fucked up. My mum was so disappointed in me. It was all too much and I couldn’t take it anymore. I climbed out of my window, got on a train to London and found the next pusher. I got high and then I came here.” At the end of his story, Harry sat there completely deflated, his shoulders drawn in, his head bowed and his hand motionless at last.

“Harry, stuff like this happens. Families fight from time to time. And that you relapsed is just a minor setback. We’ll get through this.”

The motion was small, but it was there. Harry shook his head. “I don’t know, Louis. I don’t feel like I can get through this. The situation... I don’t know how to say it without sounding like the worst person on the planet.”

Louis edged a bit closer to the younger man. “Nonsense, love. You can tell me literally anything. I promise, I won’t judge.”

“I... I don’t know. I am so glad to be at home. For four years, that’s all I wanted.” Here he let out a long breath, like he gathered himself for the upcoming revelation. “But... fuck, but... sometimes I wished I was somewhere else. They all treat me like a child. And then I see Gemma doing so well. I know it sounds so bad when I say it out loud, but she... I can’t help but think that she had it easier. She figured out how to manipulate Jeff and he treated her relatively good... n-not that I want to say that she didn’t suffer or something, but... fuck, I shouldn’t talk like that.” Here he covered his whole face with his hands and Louis picked up the plate from Harry’s lap to put it on the table.

“It’s okay, darling. Go on. Nothing you say will make me look at you any differently.”

Louis thought that Harry peeked through his fingers at him for a tiny second, before he bowed his head again, lowered his hands and took a deep breath.

“I feel like I can’t get better. Not with them treating me like a child. Not with seeing Gemma day in, day out and wondering why she’s doing well and I am not. Not with my therapist being a goddamn wanker.”

And okay, Louis had to think about that for a second. He understood what Harry was saying. He did. But how could he help with that? What could he say to make it better?

“I think... I think, maybe, when the time is right – and I'm not saying it is the right time – but when the time is right, maybe you could talk to them about getting your own place? Maybe that'll help.” The boy in front of him gave him a doubtful look. “No, listen, Harry. I don’t think it’s the right time yet to be on your own yet, because in my opinion you definitely still need a strong support system.” Louis sighed. “I'm not saying helpful stuff here, am I?”

Harry gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, as if he was thinking things over. Then he shrugged the tiniest bit. “Nah, what you’re saying definitely makes sense. I think it would definitely help to... like move out, get a bit of distance. But I don’t think I can be alone yet... Also, how will it make my family feel if I asked that?” Harry shook his head sadly. “They just got me back and... I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I love them so much.”

“I know you do.”, Louis slowly reached out for Harry’s hand and when he saw that Harry noticed, he gently took it. “They know you do. But I think you need to have a honest conversation with them. Tell them how you feel. They can’t change things, if they don’t know that those things bother you.”

The boy’s shoulders sacked down and his voice sounded shaky again. He started to fiddle with Louis fingers, too, which showed the doctor how emotionally wrought-up he was. “I'm scared to do that.”

“I can help you if you want to.”

That made Harry look up from Louis hand, which he still used as a kind of anti stress toy, his green eyes flashing with hope in the light of the living room. “Really? How?”

The doctor shrugged, giving Harry a lopsided smile. “I don’t know. When they come by tomorrow to get you, we can ask them to sit down and talk to them? I can mediate or something.”

Harry slowly nodded. “You would do that? I mean, I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation or something.”

“Pff, nonsense, love. I'd love to help, I promise.”

“Thank you, Louis. Really. For... everything. You help me again and again and get nothing in return.”

Here the older man gripped Harry’s hands to still them, trying to get his point across. “Harry, listen. I don’t need, nor want anything in return. Please believe me. I just want you to get better and be happy and if I get to be a part of that journey, that’s enough.”

Harry’s cheeks pinkened and Louis thought that it made him look even more stunning than usual. “Thank you.”

“You can stop thinking me now.”, Louis winked and that finally pulled a miniscule chuckle out of Harry.

“There we go.”, he smiled appreciatively. “So, what are you feeling like? Want to watch some telly or want to talk some more? We can do whatever you want.” It finally felt like the air was a bit lighter and Louis was set on keeping it like that.

The curly-headed boy shrugged and let go of Louis’ hand at last. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“Ah, no. I asked you, love.”

Again, Harry bit his lip and his eyes shot around the room aimlessly.

“What would you do now, if you were at home?”, Louis tried to help.

“Uhm, after dinner we often play a game together or watch a movie.”

“And do you feel like doing either of those things?”

Harry contemplated for a second and then nodded. “I don’t think I can concentrate on a game right now, but a movie sounds nice.”

“Sure thing then. How about that: You go and take a nice shower, get into some comfy clothes and I'll clean up the kitchen and make us some popcorn in the meantime?”

Harry looked down at his rumpled clothes self-consciously. “Uhm, yeah. I'm a bit of a mess, huh?”

“You’re beautiful.”, he said earnestly.  “I just thought a shower will make you feel better.”

Now Louis could enjoy the absolute work of art that was Harry’s face when he turned crimson. “Uh... Y-yeah, uhm, a sh-shower sounds nice.”, the younger one stuttered.

Louis decided to go easy on Harry and ignore his flustered state. “Okay. Want me to give you something to change into, or have you packed something comfy in your backpack?”

“Uh...”, Harry scratched the back of his head. “I don’t really remember what I packed.”

“No worries, love. I'll give you something. Wait.” He got up and quickly went to retrieve a cosy outfit and a fresh towel for Harry. “There you go. Help yourself to everything you need.” He handed over the stuff in his arms with a smile and Harry took it gratefully, before standing up and leaving for the bathroom.

Only when Louis heard the tell-tale click of the bathroom lock, he allowed himself to take a deep breath. Wow, what a day. When he got up this morning, he never thought he would end up having Harry in his flat for a sleep-over. If the situation wasn’t as fucked up as it was, he would be over the moon, because he admitted to himself long since that he had feelings for Harry. Feelings of the romantic kind.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up with a pleasant feeling, which made his lips curve slightly.

Wait.

He felt... He was feeling something positive when he was waking up? He didn’t have any nightmares? He slept?

After the initial surprise of waking up without being drenched in cold sweat, he soon realised the reason for this pleasant feeling. There was a heart beating right under his ear, inside of a very warm, solid chest. There was something that played gently – so  gently he almost couldn’t feel it – with the curls in his neck. Warm fingers. Harry was so comfy and so warm. The good kind of warm, not the kind that made you sweat, but that kind of warmth that a eiderdown quilt made you feel on a cold winter morning.

He kept his eyes closed. Firstly to stay inside his toasty bubble, just for a moment longer. And secondly to have the opportunity to think about what this all meant. Obviously, the chest he was lying on belonged to Louis. That much was clear. There were two things Harry had to figure out. How did he end up sleeping on Louis chest and why did it feel so nice? He should be freaking out right? Normally, physical contact made him cringe or flinch, especially if the one touching him was a man. But Louis seemed to belong to the very small group of people that were the exception. And to a certain point Harry knew this already. The doctor had held his hand on several occasions and even hugged him, without making Harry feel like he needed to peel of his own skin. But holding hands and even hugging was something entirely else than sleeping on someone’s chest. It was strange that it felt so nice, right? But... if it felt nice, it wasn’t necessarily wrong. He decided just to accept it for now. Which made him come back to the first question. How did they end up sleeping like this? Harry remembered how Louis let him choose a movie and how they settled on the couch with popcorn to watch it. And then... He must’ve fallen asleep, but it didn’t quite answer the question of how he ended up lying with half his body on top of Louis'. And Louis was obviously awake, according to those gentle fingers that still played with Harry’s hair. Did this mean that the doctor didn’t mind playing pillow for him? Maybe he should ask.

“I didn’t have any nightmares.”, came out instead.

The moment he spoke, the fingers in his hair stilled and the heart under his ear started to beat furiously.

“You’re awake?”

“M-hm.”, he confirmed.

“Harry, I'm so sorry. But you fell asleep last night and slumped against my shoulder and I thought I’d just let you rest there, until the movie was over. I wanted to go to bed. But then you somehow started to hug me like I was a teddy or something and sort of wrestled me down in your sleep and I didn’t want to wake you up, because you seemed so content and then I feel asleep, too. But I swear I didn’t make you-“

Harry lifted his head and watched all those words fall out of the older man's mouth in panic. “Louis.”, he interrupted.

Immediately Louis mouth snapped shut, his eyes round like saucers and both of his hands held up, like he wanted to show Harry that he wasn’t touching him without permission.

“I didn’t think you made me do anything. I... I liked waking up like this. T'was nice.”, he confessed sheepishly, slowly sitting up and bringing a bit of distance between them. Because the spell was broken now. The moment was over. And honestly, Louis looked as panicked as Harry thought he himself should feel like, hence it was probably a good idea to give him a bit of space to breathe.

He ended up sitting next to Louis' feet. While he stroked through his hair, to tame it somehow (he was sure he looked a bit like Rubeus Hagrid at the moment), he watched Louis calm down considerably.

“You’re not... You liked it?”, Louis finally asked, his voice full of wonder.

Harry felt how his cheeks got warmer. Shit, why did he say that? And was Louis also blushing?

At last, there was something settling in his stomach that felt like panic. It was fluttery and made him fidgety.

Harry turned his face down to hide his crimson cheeks. “I... I didn’t have any nightmares. I slept. I was... comfortable, I guess. I'm sorry I used you as a pillow.”

“No!”, Louis said a tad too loudly and Harry flinched slightly. The doctor cleared his throat. “Sorry. Too loud. I mean: No, don’t apologise. I liked it as well.”

The panicky feeling in his tummy got stronger. It must be panic, because what else could it be? But before he could think about it any further, before he even could open his mouth to reply something (honestly, he didn’t even know what to say), Louis swung his feet onto the ground. “I’ll make coffee.”

Harry watched the doctor’s back, as he retreated over to his kitchen. Only when Louis scratched his neck twice in a matter of 3 seconds, Harry understood. Louis was nervous. Harry had made him nervous with his confession.

Did this mean-

The doorbell rang.

Harry’s head whipped around and suddenly, all thoughts of pleasant, warm chests, embarrassing confessions and nervous doctors flew out of his head.

Shit.

Since he woke up, he somehow managed to completely forget why he was at Louis' flat in the first place.

“Oh, bit early. I thought they'd give us a bit more time.”, mumbled Louis as he put down the cups he just retrieved from a cupboard and made his way over to his hallway. But he stopped in the door frame, turning and giving Harry a questioning look. “Are you okay? Ready to see them?”

Harry gulped and shook his head slightly. “No. But we can’t let them stand there, can we? It’s pissing down out there.” To underline his point, he gestured at the windows of the living room, which showed the dreadful reality of Harry’s statement. The sky was a stormy dark grey, barely light enough to deserve the term ‘day’ and there was heavy rain whipping against the glass.

“Right. Still wanted to check. It will be fine, I promise, love.”

And as so often, Louis calm voice and demeanour, made Harry feel a bit calmer as well.  

Louis disappeared and after a short while there were voices. His mum and Robin. He couldn’t hear what they were saying exactly over the rushing of blood in his ears.

Harry sat up a bit straighter and waited for them to appear. When they did, the guilty feeling in his guts got ten times stronger. Both of their faces showed clear signs of sleep deprivation and exhaustion. And as soon as his mum lay eyes on him, there were tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, Harry.”, she choked out.

He could no longer bear to keep eye contact, so he turned his head down in shame, drew his shoulders in and waited. The guilt ate it’s way through his tummy like acid.

“Can I hug you, baby?”, his mother sobbed and of course she could. He wouldn’t deny her anything right now, even though he didn’t think he deserved a hug. Still, he nodded and felt the instant warmth of Anne’s embrace.

“I was so worried, Harry!”

And that made his composure crumple away. He wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her shoulder and started sobbing. “I-I'm sorry.”

“Never do that again, you hear me, baby?” Anne placed several kisses onto his temple, rocking him from side to side to calm him down.

“I'm so sorry, mum!”, he sniffed, drawing back and she reluctantly let him go.

He saw that Louis was back to making coffee, even though his eyes were fixed on Harry and that Robin had sat down behind his wife, looking a lot more stern than her.

“That was a really stupid thing you did there, Harry.”, his step-father said and yup, Harry could tell that Robin was cross with him.

Hurriedly, he cleaned his face and nodded because Robin was absolutely right. It had been a stupid thing to do. Completely brainless. Imbecilic. “I know. I'm so sorry. I-I...” What could he say in his defence? Not much to be honest. He got into a fight with his mother over drinking alcohol, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Then he pissed off to London to do drugs on top of it. “I don’t know what to say, except I'm sorry.”

His mother took hold of his hand. “I won’t say that it’s okay, because it’s not really, but I'm so glad you’re okay.”

Harry nodded, accepting that she wasn’t willing to sweep everything under the rug. And it would not have felt right, if she’d done that. Harry did so many disappointing things in the last 48 hours, it was only right he faced the music for it.

“Want to tell us what made you do it?”, Robin asked, his voice still sounded earnest, maybe even a bit accusatory.

Here, Harry looked at Louis for help. Maybe it was mean to pull him into this, to use him as a buffer between his parents and himself, but Louis had offered it. Right?

The doctor was just finishing up with the coffee and brought over four cups, milk, sugar and a coffee pot on a tray.

“Just be honest with them, Harry.”, he said calmly, while he put down the cups and started to fill the first one.

Easier said than done, but Louis was right. So, Harry took a deep breath, keeping his eyes on Louis and how he filled up one cup after another.

“It’s... I was... Uhm...” What the fuck should he even say? He took another deep breath, but only when Louis sat down next to him, he felt calm enough to try again. “I think it was more than one thing that made me snap. Uhm... First of all, you know that I struggle with sleeping and that in itself is... it’s shit.”

“We know, baby.”, his mother said full of compassion, not even reprimanding Harry for using a bad word.

“Then of course, therapy is... it’s really hard. Dr. Bennett keeps bringing up things I’m not ready to talk about and honestly, I think he really likes to hear himself talk. Yeah, so after therapy I feel even worse.”

“Harry, we’ve had that conversation. A lot. We all think you should still go to your appointments. It will help you eventually.” Robin still sounded stern, but it was a tiny bit softer than before.

Harry nodded slowly and started to pick on his thumb’s cuticle. “I know, I know. Everyone keep saying that, but it’s kind of hard to see it myself.”

He stayed quiet after that, unsure if it even mattered what he had to say.

“Go on, love. There is more. We talked about it, right? You wanted to tell them everything.”, Louis very quietly urged from beside him.

Harry shot him a look and then peeked over to his mum and Robin, who watched him expectantly.

He hyped himself up internally, knowing that if he didn’t tell them everything, nothing would change. And so he told them. He told them that he was so happy to be at home, but that he felt useless and out of place and like they still saw him as a sixteen year old. The hardest part was to tell them how he felt about Gemma. How he loved her with all his heart, but was also so jealous of her and maybe even resented her a bit. It made his mum cry and Robin look sad. It was shit.

“Please don’t hate me. I know that all of that makes me a bad person but please don’t hate me.”, he pleaded in the end, swallowing down his own tears, concentrating on the pain on his thumb, which finally started to bleed.

“God, we couldn’t ever hate you, baby! Never!”, Anne sobbed and pulled Harry into a hug so suddenly, that he flinched together violently. His mum ignored it and squeezed the living hell out of him. “I love you so much. Nothing, nothing you ever say or do could make me stop loving you. And I understand. I'm sorry we make you feel that way. We will try to be better, I promise. And... Gemma has a lot of problems herself, she just doesn’t show it to you. She wants to be strong for you, you know? Because she loves you so much.”

Relief flooded through Harry like a ray of sunshine. “I love you all too. I really do.”, Harry mumbled into Anne’s shoulder, hugging her back tightly.

His mum started to pet over his hair. “We can do this. We just have to be honest with each other.”

“Yeah...”, Harry agreed easily. Even if he had a hard time seeing how everything should miraculously get better by being honest. But he was just happy that his parents didn’t hate him.

Chapter Text

2 months later

Harry sat there and watched the slow falling snowflakes cover the grass in the garden. December had passed by completely snowless and now, end of January, it was starting to snow. He'd always liked snow. It made the world seem more quiet somehow.

The house was quiet as well. Robin was driving Gemma to therapy and his mum was over at a friends house. The fact, that they left him home alone, was kind of liberating. It was a fairly new development, because only a month ago, his mum wouldn’t have ever dared to leave the house, if it meant that Harry was staying alone. Firstly because she was afraid that he'd have a panic attack and no one would be there to help him and secondly because she didn’t trust him fully, which was fair enough, given the fact that Harry relapsed in November.

Still, here he was now, completely alone in this house. When he was a teenager still, he would have used the opportunity to lock himself inside his room, watch porn without headphones and wank himself raw. Just thinking about it made him feel queasy. Would he ever be... well, normal again? A few months back, he had sex on a daily basis and now he was scared of his own dick. He was pathetic really.

The boy chewed on his lower lip, staring out the window and watched how the snow slowly piled up. Maybe he should just try it? Like ripping off a plaster? Quick and painless? If he thought about it rationally, he knew it was a shit idea and Dr. Bennett would have a word or two (or fucking thousand) to say about it. It would probably end bad. But what if it didn’t? What if he went up to his room, had a wank like a normal 20 year old and proceeded with his day like nothing out of the ordinary happened?

His mind made up, Harry stood up, discarded the blanket he had wrapped himself in and walked so quickly up to his room, it had to look a bit funny.

He closed his door, locked it and went over to his bed, lying down on it.

How should he go about this? If he was honest to himself, porn was probably not the way to go. Just thinking about those fake scenarios, where two hunks were going at it like animals, made him cringe.

So, just his imagination then? That also wasn’t a very good place to go. Everything his mind could conjure up sex-wise was a lot of very, very bad stuff.

Distressed, he reached for his phone and just typed into the google search bar: What to think of while masturbating? He hesitated only a second and hit search. To his surprise, there was a lot popping up. He scanned over the titles of articles and the brief summaries shown below. His eyes got stuck on the words Generally speaking you should be thinking about whatever turns you on, and whatever makes you feel good.

Whatever made him feel good... what made him feel good? His family, was the first thing his brain threw at him and he made a disgusted face. Ew. No. No!

Try again.

And then there were insanely blue eyes popping up in his mind, quickly followed by that smile only one person managed to have.

Louis.

Harry bit his lip. Objectively, Louis was the perfect candidate for a fantasy like this. He was young, incredibly good looking, made Harry feel good and was not related to him. Then again it may make Harry feel guilty to use Louis like that, even though Louis would never know. Also, Harry might act very awkward towards the doctor when he saw him next, which would be very soon. Louis promised to visit for Harry's birthday which was in three days. Harry had also asked him to come visit over Christmas, but Louis spend Christmas Eve, which was also his birthday, with his family and then actually had to work. People didn’t stop getting sick or stopped having accidents just because it was Christmas, Louis had explained. Still, Harry had called him on the 24^th to wish Louis a happy Birthday. Then, Louis had called him on the 25^th from his car, while he was driving back to London, to tell Harry how he missed him. To tell Harry that this was the first time he totally resented the fact he had to work on Christmas Day and that he wished he could see Harry. The call and specifically the content of the call, had taken Harry by surprise and left him blushing and stuttering so badly, Gemma, who had been sitting next to Harry in the living room, thought it was necessary to call for their mum for help. After that, Harry had been teased by his sister so badly, that he stomped off to his room to pout for half an hour, only to realise that Gemma may have been right. Maybe he had a little crush on Louis. So what? Did anyone even properly look at Louis? It was hard not to have a crush, wasn’t it? He was goddamn gorgeous! Those freakishly bright blue eyes, that could pin you to the spot with just one look, or sparkle with warmth while Louis smiled. The way he got those little crinkles around them, while he did. The way he was showing off those sharp canines of his, when he smiled very broadly. His sharp jawline and how it moved when he spoke. Not to speak of the way that Louis’ backside was to die for.

And, oh. That was a sexy thought, wasn’t it? Throwing all caution to the wind, Harry closed his eyes and thought of Louis. Thinking of his arse had been a good start, he told himself. He just had to keep going.

Harry imagined that Louis was already here visiting him. They were alone in the house, together in his room. And they... what did they do? Harry gnawed on his lip. Maybe they could start innocently with kissing? Just thinking about kissing Louis set off a whole arrange of extremely confusing feelings. The most prominent one was this fluttery feeling in his stomach, that Harry had formerly misinterpreted as panic. He now knew those were fucking butterflies. Imagining kissing Doctor Louis Tomlinson gave Harry butterflies. He revelled in that feeling for a bit, but he was on a mission here. In his head the kiss was perfect. But they couldn’t just keep kissing right? What would they do next? The crazy thing was, that Harry knew the ins and outs of sex perfectly well – he probably did more  than any normal 20 year old – but he still couldn’t say what he wanted to do, because he never did what he wanted before. He didn’t know what he liked.

He tried touching himself, slowly guiding his hands over his chest, down to his tummy but somehow he felt awkward. Not that it felt bad, not at all, but he kind of felt silly doing it.

Just imagine Louis is doing it . Harry closed his eyes tightly, spending what felt like an eternity, on picturing Louis and how he was slowly touching him. He had to start over several times, because his thoughts drifted away to less pleasurable things.

But then, he finally reached the waistband of his tracksuit trousers and to his utter surprise his dick gave a little twitch, like it was indeed interested in Harry’s actions. He was so surprised, he stopped all together for a second, staring at his ceiling. Marvellously, Harry didn’t feel panicked. Just surprised.

Focus , he told himself, snapping his eyes back shut and took a deep breath.

Just when the Imagination-Louis started to pull down Harry’s trousers, while kissing him with all his might and Harry’s dick gave another twitch... “Harry?”, asked his mothers voice from outside his door. Then there was a knock and it sounded like she tried to open the door.

Abruptly, he sat up and stared over to where his mum tried to get into his room.

“Harry? Why is your door locked? Harry? Open the door, right now!” Her tone was sharp and Harry immediately knew that she was afraid that he was having a relapse and did drugs in here or whatever.

“Mum, give me a second, okay?”, he asked as calmly as he could, looking down to his crotch, where his half hard dick did its best to outline itself through the fabric of his trackies.

“No, I want you to open this door at once!”

“Mum, please, just a second!” He looked down at his dick with wide eyes, willing it to flag. “Come on!”, he whisper-shouted at it.

“Harry Edward Styles, open this door! Now!”, his mum sounded more and more agitated and Harry knew he couldn’t stall any longer. He groaned, got off his bed and hurried over to the door, unlocking and opening it.

His mother stepped around him at once, letting her eyes flit through the room to find evidence for what he just did in here. “Why was your door locked?”, she asked sharply and Harry's muscles gave an involuntary twitch.

“I... Mum, I just... Uhm... I was, uh, having a kip.” That excuse was so lame, he immediately bowed his head to hide the wince on his face.

“With a locked door? Don’t lie to me. What did you do in here?” She started to walk over to his desk, starting to open the drawers on it and when she didn’t find anything there, it was his beside table next.

“Mum, I didn’t do anything!”, he tried placating her, but it was like she was in some kind of frenzy, because she didn’t even listen to him.

“Where is it, Harry?”, she asked as she kneeled down next to his bed, to look under it.

“Where is what?” He knew what she meant, but he wouldn’t give her that kind of confirmation.

Now she turned to him, anger flashing in her eyes. “Don’t take me for an idiot! Your door was locked and you did something in here!”

“Oh my god, mum, I was trying to masturbate!”, he shouted, his face getting so hot with embarrassment, he was sure one could cook an egg on it.

Anne stopped in her tracks, looking at her son with wide eyes, then she slapped a hand on her mouth. “Oh god, Harry! I'm so sorry! I just thought, you know, with your door being locked... I'm so sorry, baby!”

Harry rubbed over his face. Maybe he was trying to rub off his flaming skin, who knew? “I know...”, he groaned. He couldn’t really be mad at her right now. He kind of understood. She was worrying about him.

“Alright...” His mother started to slowly clap her hands. Not in the way one would applaud someone, more in the way you touched your hands awkwardly together repeatedly because you didn’t know what to do with them. “Uhm... Did you... uhm, did it work?”

“Oh my god, mum, can we not right now?”, he whined. Normally, he had no problems to talk to his mum about those things. When he was younger, he didn’t feel one ounce of shame asking her about sexual stuff, because she was his mum and they had a great and open relationship. But right now, he felt so utterly mortified, he’d rather hang his ball sack into cooking water, than to tell her that he managed to get his dick to half-mast without a panic attack, before she interrupted.

“Sure, I'm sorry, baby. You, uhm, you carry on like I wasn’t even here.”

“What? I'm not going to wa- I won’t continue now! God, mum!” He made a show of shaking himself and his mother pressed her lips together, her eyebrows high on her forehead. “Right. Sorry, dear. I... I will just go then.”

Harry let her leave his room without comment, staying put for a moment to process what just happened. And the more he thought about it, the more his eyebrows seemed to try their best to meet in the middle. Why did his mum come home so early? Why did she immediately jump to the conclusion that the locked door of her son meant that he was doing drugs again?

It seemed like she didn’t trust him one bit after all.

On one side, he completely understood where she was coming from and that she solely acted like that because she cared. On the other side, he was struggling to accept that his own mother didn’t trust him.

The atmosphere between Harry and Anne stayed rather tense over the following days. On the evening before his birthday, she even sought Harry out, apologising again for what happened and how she behaved. He placated her, but he merely did it to keep the domestic peace. Deep down, he knew that the whole situation wouldn’t change if he couldn’t prove it to her – and maybe the rest of his family too – that he was trustworthy. That he could manage on his own.

He woke up on the first of February, drenched in cold sweat, breathing rapidly. The last bits of his nightmares flitted through his mind and he felt nauseous. He went through his routine of trying to calm down, giving up on it, standing up, trying to calm down again, managing it somewhat and then sneaking downstairs to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Like so often in the last two months, his mind returned to the morning where he woke up peacefully in Louis' arms. Had it been merely a happy coincidence or because Louis held him in his sleep? His brain knew that it could be the first option, but his heart was screaming at him that it had been Louis.

With his tea in hand, he migrated over to the living room, settling down in his usual spot.

“Happy Birthday.”, he whispered to himself. No one in the house in Hackney had bothered with Harry’s birthday. Not once. But it may have been due to the fact that the only person who knew his date of birth had been Simon and Harry never bothered to tell someone else. Just like he tried to keep his real name private, he tried to keep everything else personal private. Hence, his birthdays had looked like any other day for four years. Well... his 17^th birthday had been another story.

4 years earlier

Harry dragged himself up the stairs, following Ewan's broad frame. He was done. His body hurt. His mind hurt. It was his birthday since 3 hours, which meant he was here for almost a year. Almost one year of being raped and hurt day in, day out. He was done.

“In you go, lad.”, Ewan muttered, knocked and then opened the door to Simon’s office.

As every night, Simon sat there and waited for his little puppets to return home with his money.

“Money on the table.”, Simon ordered, without looking up from his phone.

But Harry hesitated. He just stood there, frozen, waiting for Simon to take notice of him.

Sure enough, he did, looking up at the boy in annoyance. “What?”

His voice was cutting through the air, making Harry flinch slightly. How was he supposed to do this?

In his devastation, he walked towards Simon, falling to his knees right next to him.

Now he had Simon’s full attention. The man was scowling down at him. “What the fuck are you doing? Didn’t get enough cock for one night already? Need mine, too, you slut?”

Timidly, Harry shook his head. “N-No... Please, Sir. I... I can’t go on like this. Please.”, he stammered, holding back his tears with all his might. “Please. Let my sister and me go. Please.”

And out of all the reactions Simon could have had, Harry didn’t anticipate this one. Simon stared at him for a second and then he burst out into laughter. He laughed with his whole body, head thrown back, like Harry just told the joke of the century.

“Let you go! Ha! Oh my, didn't hear that one in ages! Ha-ha-ha!”, the man guffawed, holding his belly.

And Harry couldn’t hold back anymore. “Please.”, he sobbed, his whole body sagging and tears flowing down his cheeks.

“He-he. No.”, laughed Simon. “Come on, money on the table now, then piss off.”

But Harry wouldn’t listen, not this time. He was done. “Please! I'll do anything, but please let us go! Please! I-I-I can’t do this anymore.”

Now Simon sighed, his amusement fading, returning to annoyance really quickly.

“Money on the table now, boy!”

“Please!”, Harry sobbed, shaking his head frantically.

“My god. Ewan!”

The door opened and Ewan came in.

“Get my money out of him.”

At once, the watchdog was by Harry’s side, picking him up easily under his shoulders. “Come on now, lad. Where's the money, eh?”

“No, please.”

Slap . It hadn’t been full force, it just stung a little and was probably supposed to shake Harry out of his frenzy. But it didn’t do anything but make Harry cry harder.

“My fucking god, the money is in his sock, it’s always in his sock! Get it out of there and then teach him a lesson!”, spat Simon, pointing at Harry’s feet.

Immediately, Ewan reached down and sure enough he had a bundle of crumpled bank notes in his hand, holding them out to his boss.

“Good and now get out of here, the crying is giving me a headache.”

“Aye, boss.”

Ewan grabbed Harry, pulling him out of the room.

“No, please, PLEASE! Let us go, please!!!”, he cried, struggling against the tight grip.

“Quiet now, lad. Don’t make it worse.”, Ewan mumbled, readjusting his hold on Harry and pulling him out of the office, down the hallway to his room.

He kicked the door open and once they were inside, he picked Harry up and put him down in front of him.

“Calm down, lad. Crying is no use, you know that.”

But how could Harry calm down? He knew what was coming now. He couldn’t go on like this. But apparently he had no choice.

Wham . The first fist hit Harry right on the left cheek, making his head fly to the side, which cased him to stumble. But as always, Ewan made sure he remained standing. At least for the first minutes, Ewan always made sure of that.

Another hit. Another. Another...

When Harry woke up, he lay on the cot in the corner. His face hurt badly. Still he sat up slowly. Brad lay in his own bed, snoring peacefully. Had he been in the room earlier? Harry didn’t notice.

He looked at the cheap alarm clock on the window sill. It was 6 in the morning. If he was at home, his mum would come in soon to wake him up with a cake full of candles.

His heart stung, but still, for whatever reason this thought made him smile. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”, he whispered.

Present day

Blinking, Harry returned to the here and now, taking a shaky breath. This year was different. He was at home. He was safe. No one would hurt him today.

He was alone for another two hours, until he heard steps down the stairs and towards the living room.

“Oh, you know, you could have stayed in your room just this once. We wanted to wake you up with a cake and all.”

Harry turned around to see Gemma stand there, her arms crossed in front of her chest, but smiling broadly.

“Sorry?”, he replied, the corners of his own lips twitching.

His big sister rolled her eyes and came over, taking the tea out of Harry’s hands, to hug him tightly. “Happy 21^st birthday!”

For a few seconds, it felt like he swallowed his own tongue. This was the first time someone else wished him a happy birthday since he turned sixteen. Sixteen and twenty-one were so far apart. He'd been a kid and now he was... a grown-up? Most of the time he didn’t feel like an adult, but the age on his new ID said that he was of age in every country in the world now.

“Thanks.”, he eventually got out.

Gemma sat down next to him, still smiling broadly. “So, are you excited for today? Louis will visit.”

Harry shot her a look and it was clear as day, that she found a great deal of pleasure in teasing him.

To his chagrin, he blushed heavily and Gemma began to cackle. Nevertheless, she pulled Harry into her side, kissing the crown of his messy locks. “Oh dear, look at you.”, she laughed fondly.

“Can you not- I mean, c-could you... uhm, could you please don’t make any comments when Louis is here?” He was so flustered he started stammering.

Gemma squeezed him again. “Of course not.” She sounded a bit more serious now. “I would never. I promise!”

“Thanks.”

Then there were hurried steps on the stairs again, but instead of coming into the living room, the two people, who were obviously his mum and Robin, speed-walked into the kitchen. After only a minute, where Harry and Gemma just eyed the closed door to said kitchen, Anne and Robin walked in. Anne held a big cake in her hands, a myriad of candles burning on top of it.

“Happy Birthday to you!”, Robin began singing and Gemma and Anne joined in. Harry sat there awkwardly, because what do you do when people sang Happy Birthday to you? It was the general rule that one has to sit or stand entirely still, smile awkwardly and try not to make too much eye contact. Right?

When they were finally done, Anne came over and held the cake, which was seemingly a self-made  chocolate cake with colourful sprinkles and a big 21 in the middle of it, under Harry’s nose. “Make a wish, baby.”

This simple request made Harry’s mind spiral. What should he wish for? Back then, before everything happened, he used to make standard wishes like health for his family or stuff like that. But somehow it felt like this wish should be special. His first birthday wish in freedom.

Harry pressed his eyes shut and blew out the candles. Let me be happy and free this time next year.

When he opened his eyes, the candles were extinguished and smoking and his family was cheering and applauding, even though they did it mildly, so it wasn’t too loud, because sudden loud noises still scared Gemma and him sometimes.

Chapter Text

After a lot of hugging, they had a big birthday breakfast and afterwards Harry got his presents. It were some new very stylish sunglasses and some seemingly very expensive hair products for his curls from Gemma. His mum and Robin gifted him a bunch of new shirts and jumpers and a new wooden cutting board with a shiny new chef's knife, because Harry had shown some interest in cooking recently.

Louis said he would show up around noon and Harry’s dad wanted to join them for dinner, hence Harry had some time left and after opening all his presents and thanking everyone, he made his way upstairs to shower and make himself presentable.

He took a ridiculously long shower, where he tried out his new hair products, which made them feel very smooth. He had to thank Gemma again later. Then he shaved his face, because he still couldn’t grow a proper beard, which did nothing for his ego. After an hour and twenty minutes he left the bathroom surrounded by a solid wall of steam. His mum just climbed up the stairs and as she saw him, she smiled fondly and shook her head. “We thought you were trying to drown yourself in the shower.”

Feeling a bit guilty for blocking the bathroom for so long, he ducked his head. “Sorry.”

“Ah, don’t be ridiculous. It’s your birthday, today you can shower as long as you want to.”

Harry grinned and walked on to his room to get dressed.

He got into black jeans and a very colourful shirt. He just liked it bright and fun and during the last months he got somewhat bolder when he went shopping. He hoped Louis liked it.

Just when this had thought crossed his mind, he stilled and looked at himself in the mirror. His cheeks were bright pink. If that kept happening at the mere thought of Louis, or when someone mentioned him, he was completely fucked when Louis showed up in person. He had to get this under control! But how? Shit, now he was getting nervous! What the fuck could he do? Wear a paper bag over his head to hide his burning cheeks? A teeny tiny bit too conspicuous.

He took a deep breath and looked his mirror-self sternly in the eye. “Don’t freak out!”, he muttered. “He doesn’t know that you tried to masturbate with him on your mind. Get yourself together.” But his mirror-self had sheer panic in his eyes and Harry groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose between his right index finger and thumb. “I’m so not cool.”

The doorbell rang downstairs and his head snapped up. It was only 11:30! That couldn’t be Louis already, right? He wasn’t ready! His hair was still wet! He didn’t even got socks on!

“Harry!”, Robin shouted from downstairs and the birthday boy froze. “You’ve got a visitor!”

“Fuck!”, he whisper-shouted and now he was running towards his dresser, to get some socks out. Hopping towards his door, while trying to get his left foot into it, he shouted: “On my way!”

He stopped again on the top stair to get his right foot covered and then finally stomped hurriedly down the stairs. He turned the corner and there Louis stood next to Robin, just getting out of his shoes, while Robin held a balloon, a bouquet of flowers and a gift bag for him. Louis wore simple black trousers and a knitted sky-blue jumper, which probably made his eyes pop like crazy.

Harry waited mannerly, until he was noticed, which didn’t take very long. Louis straightened up and turned to Robin to take back his gifts, when his and Harry’s eyes locked. Yes, the jumper did make his eyes pop. God, they were so fucking blue!

The first reaction of Harry’s heart was to stop beating. And then it acted like it had difficulties to remember how to beat properly. It ended up beating very fast, pumping all the blood in Harry’s body into his cheeks as fast as possible.

A wide, toothy grin broke out on Louis’ face, showing off his own small dimples, making him maddeningly adorable. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

Throwing all caution to the wind, Harry hurriedly closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around Louis. A startled, surprised yelp came out of Louis’ mouth and Harry couldn’t blame him. He was surprised by his eagerness himself. Nevertheless, he felt how the doctor did his best to hug him back, even though it was a bit difficult because he still had his hands full.

“Missed you.”, Harry whispered.

“I missed you too, love. Very much.”, was the soft answer.

“Maybe let our guest come in now. You can squeeze the life out of him again later, yeah?”, came Gemma’s voice from somewhere near behind them.

At once, Harry stepped back, completely embarrassed and every bit of ease he felt in Louis’ arms  a second ago, evaporated. He was sure his face was like a beacon of awkwardness by now.

“Right, sorry, uhm... Come on in then.”, he stammered.

Louis followed Harry, with his dripping wet curls, Robin and Gemma into the living room. He always liked Gemma, but she just purposely made Harry feel bad about his show of affection towards Louis and that didn’t sit right with him. On the other hand, Louis knew perfectly well how siblings acted towards each other, because he had a lot of those himself. Maybe it was just friendly teasing.

Anyways, he stepped into the living room and was greeted by Anne with a cheery welcome and a hug. He was still holding onto Harry’s gifts, so this hug was just as awkward ad the one with Harry.

“Uhm, Harry, I've got a present for you.” He realised himself how it sounded more like a question than a statement, but Harry grinned happily and came over to receive his balloon and gift bag and his flowers.

The first thing the boy did was to bury his nose in them. It was a mixed bouquet of lavender roses and white and blush pink peonies. It had been kind of hard to find peonies in February but Louis just liked them and wanted to give Harry something special, not just simply roses.

“I've never got flowers before.”, Harry mumbled into the bouquet.

“Uhm, I picked them because you told me you get a hayfever sometimes and they're allergy friendly.”, he commented bashfully.

That made Harry look up at him in surprise and Anne and Gemma cooed at the same time.

“You remembered?”, Harry asked quietly.

“Of course. It was the only medical history you provided.” Louis scratched the back of his head and tried to sound casual. Of course he remembered that Harry told him this minor detail about himself! It was Harry and everything about Harry he gobbled up and stored it in his memory like a prized possession.

“Oh, yeah. I remember.” For a short second, Harry had a distant look in his eyes, but then his mum immediately stepped in and took the flowers out of his hand.

“Give them to me, baby. I'll put them into water and you go ahead and open your gift.”

Harry snapped back to reality and smiled, sitting down on the sofa to open his present. Not without knotting the string of his birthday balloon to the coffee table first.

“Sit down, Louis.”, Robin ordered. “Want a cup of coffee or tea?”

“Uhm, a tea would be lovely, thank you.”

“Harry?”, Robin asked.

“Oh, yeah, tea as well. Thanks.”

When Louis sat down a few feet away and looked back to Harry, he saw that the boy waited patiently with the bag on his lap.

“Go on, you can open it.”, Louis laughed and with a small shy smile, the boy fished the envelope out of the bag. His long fingers had no problem with opening it and pulling the card out. For a moment Harry just read the front of it with a slight frown and then he burst into giggles.

Happiness flooded Louis’ body through and through. He made Harry giggle. Loud and happily. He picked out the card with exactly that in mind. He had an inkling Harry would like bad jokes like that.

Eventually, after giggling a decent amount of time, Harry opened the card and read what Louis had written inside. Again it took him a few seconds, but then he looked up and smiled softly. “Thank you.”

It was that moment, that Anne came back in, with a vase in hand, followed by Robin and Gemma, who carried two cups of tea each.

They all settled down on the couch and Harry showed them the outside of his card, again giggling like a school girl. Only then, he reached into the bag and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in pink unicorn paper.

“Uh, I forgot to buy new wrapping paper and that was all I had at home, sorry.”, Louis confessed and everyone laughed.

“I like it, it’s cute.”, Harry shrugged, before starting to carefully unwrapping it, one sellotape strip at a time, just as if he wanted to prolong the unwrapping process as much as possible. In the end Harry held a perfume in his hands. It was Gucci Mémoire d'une Odeur. He had spent more than an hour inside of the perfumery and after trying and smelling a shit-ton of scents, he’d settled for this one.

“I hope you like it.”

And Harry looked a bit flabbergasted but still opened the box and pulled the flacon out to spritz some onto his left wrist. He sniffed it carefully and a smile lit up his face. “Oh that’s nice!”

“Thank god.”, laughed Louis.

Harry held his wrist out to his sister and she smelled it as well, stating that Louis did a very good job in picking out this one.

There was one other parcel left inside the bag and it was quite big and squishy and Harry send a questioning look over to Louis, who just shrugged and smiled.

Again, Harry took a long time to unwrap it. But as soon as the boy saw some lavender coloured wool peaking out, he hurried up and tore the rest of the paper away. Harry stared at the lavender jumper for a moment. A moment so long, Anne felt the urge to say that this was a very nice looking jumper. But she shut right back up, when Harry lifted his head and there were tears in his eyes.

“That’s your jumper.”

“Now it’s yours. It suits you far better than me.” Louis was quite touched that Harry teared up over this particular gift.

The curly haired boy stood up, walked the two steps over to Louis and hugged him so hard, all the air was squeezed out of him.

The others might be completely confused why Harry reacted like this over a simple jumper, but Louis decided just to enjoy the moment. Hopefully it reminded Harry of a moment were someone had been kind to him. Every time Louis had seen this jumper in his dresser, he had thought of how mesmerizingly beautiful Harry had looked in it and he had felt far too unworthy to wear it again himself, hence he decided to gift it to Harry.

As Harry himself didn’t enlighten his family with the jumper's story as he settled back down into his seat, Louis chose to keep silent about it as well. It would always be up to Harry to speak about the past.

 They all had a bit of small talk, Louis telling them all about the tailback on the M1, but how he managed to make up time afterwards and therefore had been a bit early.

This lead to a whole discussion about which was the worst motorway.

Louis and Harry locked eyes and Harry rolled his eyes a bit with a little grin on his face. Louis simply loved to see Harry so smiley and happy. It made him even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

“Anyone want any more tea?”, Harry asked eventually and everyone voiced their agreement. “Louis, help me with the cups, please?”

It was painfully obvious what Harry was trying to do, but his family had the decency to keep quiet about it, even Gemma, and Louis smiled and got up immediately. Who the hell was he to deny Harry some alone-time?

They went to the kitchen and after Harry closed the door, he let out a small puff of air.

“Everything alright, love?”

He could see how Harry's cheeks got that rosy tint again.

“Yeah.”, Harry nodded and smiled sheepishly. He went about filling up the kettle and switching it on.

“How are you doing? I mean... Generally?”

Harry had his back turned to Louis and he took a moment to turn around and answer. But he did so eventually.

The smile was gone, but he didn’t seem too upset by the question.

“I... I don’t know. Could be worse, I think?” He shrugged his right shoulder a bit. “But could be better as well.”

“I can imagine. The upcoming trial date and the prospect of facing that  prick probably doesn’t make things better, huh?”

And here Louis immediately saw that he said something wrong. Well, not particularly wrong, but it was very, very obvious that Harry had no idea what Louis talked about.

“What?”, Harry breathed, his face whiter than chalk.

“The...uhm.” Louis hesitated, because Harry evidently wasn’t informed about the upcoming trial. Why the fuck didn’t he know? He had to have been informed! There must have been a letter at least! But it was no use to pretending Louis didn’t say what he just said. “The trial, uh, you know? Haven’t you been informed yet? I thought... Zayn said, you have been informed. Didn’t you get a letter or something?” God, why did he have to bring this up? What a fucked up topic for a birthday! Fuck!

Judging by Harry’s face, he really had no idea. He saw how shock and confusion slowly turned into something else. The boy’s lips became very thin and the wings of his nose went big and round like the ones of an angry bull.

“Harry?”, he asked timidly, but too late. He already stormed past Louis, banging open the door of the living room and charging over to where his family sat and waited for their tea.

Louis followed warily.

Harry’s shoulders were shaking, as was his voice when he started to speak to his surprised looking family. “When is the trial?”

Louis could see from his position behind Harry, how his mother and sister went as white as limestone and Robin looked like he wanted to be anywhere else than here in this moment.

Anne cleared her voice. “How... what trial, baby?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know!”, Harry bellowed and Gemma touched her mother’s arm softly.

“Just tell him, mum. I told you, we should just tell him.”

Anne looked at her daughter for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, baby. We wanted you to have a nice birthday. We would've told you eventually, but I- we thought it would be better to tell you a bit later.”

“Tell me later? Tell me later? When? The night before the trial so I won’t have a chance to prepare for it, or what? I have a right to know! I- I... You’re doing it again! You treat me like a fucking child! God, I'm so done with this!” And with that, Harry turned on his heel and stormed out of the room into the hall.

“Harry, wait!”, Anne shouted but Robin held her back when she was about to stand up.

“Let him go and have a breather.”

Louis agreed, but he wouldn’t let Harry leave alone. He hurried after him, seeing how he just stuffed his feet into his boots.

“Can I come?”, Louis asked quietly, unsure if Harry was mad at him as well.

“Yes.”, he huffed.

Louis hurried to get into his shoes as well. They dressed in silence and then Harry stomped over to the door, took some keys from the rack on the wall and then walked outside.

Louis followed Harry down the road in silence, having a bit of a hard time keeping up with those ridiculously long legs that were attached to that boy. They marched through town and then out of it, walking along a busy road, before Harry stopped briefly to make sure it was safe to cross the road. They came to a halt on the other side in front of a wooden stile, almost overgrown by the bushes left and right. Louis held his tongue when Harry started to climb up and over it. Where the fuck were they going?

The doctor climbed after Harry and on the other side, there was an unobstructed view of a tall viaduct spanning across the landscape. Harry was already walking towards it, through the wet grass, with determined steps. Again, Louis followed, not caring that his socks got wet after a few metres.

In the end, they came to a halt underneath the bridge, next to one of it’s massive pillars. Louis could only see the back of Harry, as he stood turned towards the brick wall, staring at it.

“Harry?”, he finally asked tentatively.

Silence. Just when Louis thought Harry wouldn’t answer, he pointed at a the wall above him.

He had to take a few steps, so that he was standing next to Harry, to see what he was pointing at.

There, on a bit of concrete above the red bricks, washed out by the elements and time, was a word carved into it. Even though it had fainted over time, it was obvious that it spelled ‘HARRY’ in capital letters.

“I used to come here as a kid.”

Louis stared at the writing on the wall, transfixed with something akin to morbid fascination. It was like a gateway through time, showing a glimpse of Harry’s happy past. There was a time before he had to suffer day in, day out. There once had been a version of Harry that had been innocent, untouched, happy.

“My mum doesn’t understand that this Harry-“, again he pointed at the letters, “‐ no longer exists. I'm not that kid anymore. I'm not a kid.”

And Louis now understood why they were here. It was kind of symbolic. Harry led him here, to show him that there was a difference between that past happy-name-carving-kid-Harry and present-day Harry.

“I know that, love.”, Louis finally said, his voice even and calm.

Now the curly-headed boy finally turned around, his eyes brimmed with tears, anger showing in the line between his eyebrows. “You understand! Exactly! Why do you understand and my own mother doesn’t?”, he exploded.

Momentarily speechless, Louis opened and shut his mouth a few times, but before he could come up with a suitable answer, Harry raged on. “How am I supposed to prove that I'm capable of handling things, if I don’t even get the chance! I'm monitored almost 24/7! They barely leave me alone at home, because they're scared I might break down or do something stupid!Are they planning on keeping me on their laps for the rest of our lives? Mum doesn’t get that I'm not her little boy anymore. I had to actively forbid her to invite old school friends of mine to my birthday! Like what did she expect me to say to them? I don’t... I... God, I can’t- Fuck!” Here he fisted his hair in frustration, yanking at it harshly, which made Louis wince internally.

“Keep going. Come on. Let it all out.”, Louis encouraged him. Harry might as well scream it all out, maybe it would help.

But instead, it made Harry freeze in surprise, or even confusion.

“Huh?”

“I said: Let it all out! Come on!”

But Harry only stared at Louis, with an expression that was hard to interpret. It started out with confusion, yes, but now it slowly morphed into something different. It was softer. Harry’s whole face became softer.

“You’re literally the only person who would’ve said that.”

Now it was Louis turn to be puzzled. “What do you mean, love?”

There was a tiny smile playing around Harry’s pink lips. “Everyone else would have told me to calm down. You told me to scream on.”

Louis shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. I thought it might help.”

The boy opposite him shook his head slightly. “It doesn’t matter why. You get me. You know me for what? A few months? And still you understand me better than my own family. And you’re not scared to let me... to let me feel things and let me figure things out on my own.”

If this was a romantic movie, this would have been the time where Louis bravely stepped up to the boy he fell in love with and declared his feelings, before capturing his lips in a all-consuming kiss. But this wasn’t a romantic movie. This here was reality, where Harry was deeply traumatised and would probably freak out if Louis did that. But his eyes must have betrayed him, as they flickered down to Harry’s plush pink lips for only a second. It must have been obvious, because before Louis could say something, Harry took a step back, turning his head away with a tortured expression.

“Harry-“

“I wish I could be just normal.”

Louis started to shake his head, closing the distance between them with only a couple of steps. “I get what you mean, Harry, but what the fuck is even normal? I'm not normal. All the people I know aren’t normal. Normal is so boring. You are special. You're so special and you don’t even know it. Every time I see you, I'm amazed by you. To me, you’re the most special person in the world and I'm so happy that you’re not normal.”

Shy green eyes, surrounded by long, clumped wet lashes, were zeroing in on his own, opened wide in surprise.

He was standing close enough, to see every little detail of Harry’s face. How his brows drew together slightly, how a muscle right under his left eye twitched the tiniest bit and how his lips parted, to take in a little, slow gasp.

“I wish that you could see yourself through my eyes only for one second.”, he added as an afterthought.

“What do you see?”, Harry whispered.

Very slowly, Louis reached up to brush a wild curl out of Harry’s face. He didn’t flinch. He just stood there and let it happen.

“I told you before. You’re beautiful. I am seeing a beautiful, young man, with so much life ahead of him.”, Louis declared slowly. His heart was beating wildly in his chest now. “I am seeing someone who was hurt, but who has the strength to overcome all that. I am seeing someone inspiring. I am seeing someone... I'm seeing someone that has my heart in a chokehold.” Jesus fucking Christ! Did he really just say that? On the inside, Louis was screaming hysterically, but he did his best to appear calm and collected on the outside, like he didn’t say something out of the ordinary.

But he did.

He very obviously did.

Chapter Text

Of course Harry had suspected that Louis... had some kind of feelings towards him. But suspecting it and hearing it were two very different animals. He was torn apart between two major feelings in his chest. One was elation. Something akin to euphoria burst inside of his chest and spread rapidly through his whole body, making it tingly, but in a nice kind of way. The other was fear. It was confusing, because great happiness and fear, sometimes felt alike. Both of them felt too big for your body, like they wanted to break out of it. Both of them made your stomach swoop and made you feel a bit light-headed. But Harry was sure that he felt both at the same time. Because how could he not? Sure, he was happy, that Louis was reciprocating his feelings, but it also made him scared. What did this confession entail? What did Louis expect from him? Was Harry ready to have some kind of relationship?

“Hey, love, I can see the wheels turning in your head.” Louis breathy voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The older man was still standing closely in front of him, concern written on his face, as he reached for Harry’s hand. It was grounding, keeping him from exploding with all those big feelings in his chest. “Breathe, love. I'm sorry if I said something upsetting.”

“Not upset.”, the boy got out, shaking his head and doing what Louis asked of him; he took a deep, deep breath.

“No? What ‘re you feeling then? Talk to me.”

Louis' gaze was so intense, he felt the need to look away for a bit. “Happy. Scared.” It only may be two simple words, but they were the quintessence of what he was feeling.

“Yeah? Why happy?” There was hope in Louis voice, Harry was sure of it.

Slowly, Harry turned his head back and recommenced their eye contact. “Because it makes me happy.” He was aware that this answer was as simple as it was dumb. Like, duh, of course Harry. Louis asked why. So he gathered his courage and tried again. “I... It makes me happy to hear that you, uhm...” Pleadingly he asked Louis for help with his eyes.

“Like you very, very much?”, Louis provided and it sounded more like a question, than like an answer. Still, Harry took it.

“Yeah, it makes me happy to hear that you like me, because... uhm... I- I, uh...” Okay, he had to avert his eyes again, feeling embarrassed. “Because-I-like-you-too.” He said it so fast in his eagerness to simply get it out, that he was sure that he swallowed half of the syllables. Did Louis understand what he said?

The doctor’s hand squeezed his own tightly. “You do?” He sounded happy. Really happy. And when Harry finally got himself to look back into his face, he could see it written all over it. Louis was smiling broadly, his entire face lit up with it, eyes crinkling and everything.

“Yeah.”

It looked like Louis could barely contain himself, because he looked up at the bridge for a few moments, taking a few big breaths, still grinning. “Sorry.”, he chuckled when he looked back down. “Just, I'm very happy, too. Uhm, you said, you’re scared, love? Scared of what?”

“The obvious stuff, I guess.”, Harry shrugged.

“What’s the obvious stuff?”

“Uhm... Like, I really like you, Louis, but I... you know that I'm... that I have problems and stuff and I don’t know, uh, I don’t know what will happen. I mean, I really would like to kiss you. Soon. But I'm scared shitless of the flashbacks that might happen. I... I'm not sure that I’m ready for a relationship, at least not for one that you might expect to have with me.”

“Hey, hey, hey, love, stop there for a second. I don’t expect anything, okay? I know that you'll need a lot of time, before we could have a-“ Here Louis lifted his unoccupied hand to sign quotation marks into the air. “- normal relationship. I'm perfectly happy to just be there for you in the meantime. No expectations. No pressure. Just us two, writing our own rules, yeah?”

Harry stared at Louis, needing a moment to process how fucking perfect that man was. He wasn’t only completely gorgeous to look at, no, he was also the kindest fucking person on the whole damn planet, who apparently had no problem whatsoever to put Harry’s needs above his own.

“Lou... Are you sure?” Now it was both of them, who stared a bit surprised at the other one. That was the first time Harry ever called the older man by something else than his full first name. Whereas Louis had been calling Harry ‘love’ from the very start, Harry never used any kind of nicknames. But it had just felt right to do it at that moment. And it wasn’t like Harry just called the doctor ‘honey muffin’ or something equally as cringey. It had just been ‘Lou’.

A big, big smile was Harry’s reward for that.

“Yes, love, I'm perfectly sure. Surprising as it might sound, but I thought about this. A lot.” Louis winked at him, making Harry breathe out a small laugh. “Please believe me when I say that I am ready to wait for you.”

Louis was ready to wait for him. It occurred to Harry, that Louis didn’t just mean that he would wait for Harry to be ready for a physical relationship. It also meant that he was ready to wait for Harry to move out. Because right now, anything else than a long distance relationship wasn’t really in the cards for them, with Louis living and working in London and Harry living with his family in Holmes Chapel.

Which pulled Harry’s mind back to the unpleasant topic of his family, especially his mother, treating him like a child, to the extend of lying to him.

His change of mood must have shown on his face, because Louis immediately asked where his mind was at.

“When the trial is done, I want to move out.” His ears could hear himself say that, but it wasn’t a conscious choice to say it. It just slipped out of his lips and if he was honest to himself, he’d made this choice even before he left the house earlier.

“Oh. Because of what happened with your family just now?”

“Yes. And no. That my mum thought it would be best to leave me in the dark about the trial is just the straw to break the camels back, I think. It’s the whole situation. I think... I think I can only better in an environment that enables me to grow.”

Louis' eyebrows lifted up sceptically for a split second, but then he shrugged his shoulders, squeezing Harry’s hand again. “If that is what you want, I will totally support you.”

“Yeah?” Harry couldn’t contain the tiny smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. He felt so incredibly thankful, that he could be sure to have Louis support in all this.

“Of course, love.”

“Thank you.” Harry leaned forward in a spur-of-the-moment-decision and connected his and Louis' forehead softly with one another, closing his eyes for a moment. Their breath was mingling in the crisp air between them, washing over each others lips like a soft warm caress. It was almost like a kiss.

“You’re welcome, darling.”, Louis whispered, his voice a tad shaky now.

Harry understood, because his own heart was trying to pummel itself out of the ribcage that contained it. When he felt like the pleasant feeling was getting replaced  slowly but steadily, by something that felt like oncoming panic, he disconnected from Louis, taking a step back.

“Are you okay?”

Harry let his head fall back with a mirthless chuckle. “Yeah. Give me a second and then we'll head back. My feet are freezing off.”

“Take as long as you need, love.”

They did head back after a while, when both of their feet were completely numb, as were their faces. It just wasn’t the right weather to stand around under a bridge, as beautiful the scenery might be. When they got back, they were greeted by Anne, Robin and Gemma, all of them apologising profoundly to Harry. And Harry accepted their apologies, but maybe he just did it so easily because it was his birthday and he wanted to keep the peace and he had the plan to move out solidified in his mind.

The rest of the day went by quite  agreeably, ending with a big dinner, where Desmond joined them as well. Louis sadly had to leave right after they cut Harry’s birthday cake for dessert, because he only had one day off and had to work again in the morning. After Louis said goodbye to everyone at the table, Harry accompanied him to the front door.

Shyly, the boy tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Uhm... So, thank you for coming today. Despite the one little hiccup, I had a really nice day.”, he drawled out slowly.

Louis stood there, beaming from ear to ear. “I had a nice day as well, darling.”

It was the second time, Louis used that pet name for him and again it made Harry’s heart beat faster. Also, it made him blush like a tomato.

Apparently endeared by Harry’s shy reaction, Louis slowly lifted his right hand and stroked with the knuckle of his pointer finger over Harry’s burning cheek. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you, too, Lou. So much.”

Then there was a loud clinking noise from the dining room and the spell was broken. Louis took a step back, retracting his hand and Harry remained in the door frame.

“Goodbye, love.”

“Goodbye, Lou.”

And then Louis left, leaving Harry staring after him for a long while, before he returned to the dining room and his cake.

Harry had absolutely no desire to leave the car. In those situations, he felt like it was Groundhog Day. Every single time, when Robin drove him to therapy, Harry refused to get out, Robin gave him a stern talking to and in the end, Harry always left the car.

The car was standing still for a whole minute now already, and Harry was still sitting there motionless.

After a while, Robin sighed, because his tactic of waiting and ignoring Harry didn’t work. Again. “Harry, get out of the car and into that building, please.”

“No, thank you.”, he declined, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“It’s not up for debate. With what happened yesterday, I'm sure it will be good for you to speak to Dr. Bennett.”

“With what happened yesterday? Sounds like it's my fault that mum chose to not tell me about the trial.”

Harry could see out of the corner of his eyes how Robin rubbed over his face in frustration. “No, of course it’s not your fault, Harry. But I still think you need to talk about it.”

Harry was about to tell Robin that he already talked about it just fine with Louis, but he held his tongue. It was no use. Robin wouldn’t budge.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times, before reaching for the door handle.

“See you in an hour.”, Robin said, the relief in his tone barely contained.

Harry ignored him and shut the door of the car with a bang, just to make clear that he wasn’t fine with this.

The familiar way up to Dr. Bennett’s office was over far too soon. In no time at all, he sat on the loveseat opposite the doctor, waiting for him to start the session.

In all objectivity, Harry had enough to talk about. For one there was the obvious subject of his birthday yesterday, where he found out that his mother lied to him, instead of telling him that he had to be present at the trial of his rapist slash pimp. But there was also the matter of his failed masturbation attempt and the following strained atmosphere between him and his mother and his plan to move out after the trial. Objectively, he had a lot to talk about. The problem was, Harry still thought that Dr. Bennett was an utter plonker.

“So, how are you today, Harry?”

‘And here we go.’, Harry thought. “Alright, I think.”, was what he said out loud.

“I see it was your birthday yesterday. Belated Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“How did you spent your birthday?”

Harry gave him a brief summary and even though he did it reluctantly, he included the part where he found out about the trial. A little part of him was curious how the shrink would react to this.

He was surprisingly unsurprised, which Harry found odd. “But you knew that already.”, Harry guessed, squinting at Dr Bennett.

The doctor smiled and nodded, no signs of guilt on his face, as he said: “Yes, your mother called me this morning to tell me about it, just in case you forget to mention it.”

This made the boy gape at the man opposite him. Because what? In case he forgot to mention it? It was clear that his mum suspected that he deliberately left things out at his therapy session. What else did she tell Dr. Bennett? What did Dr. Bennett tell his mum in return?

“I can see you’re not pleased by this revelation.” Here Harry scoffed, but the doctor soldiered on. “I can assure you, that I’m well aware of doctor-patient confidentiality and nothing you tell me here will ever leave this room. Your mother is simply concerned about you, that’s why she calls me occasionally.”

Harry was sceptical if he could trust Dr. Bennett’s word regarding the doctor-patient confidentiality, but if he didn’t trust him this far, Harry might as well get up and leave. But it still stung that his psychiatrist and his mother were talking about him behind his back.

Harry took a deep and grounding breath. “Okay.”

“Alright, let’s talk about your feelings about the upcoming trial then.” For Harry’s taste, the shrink sounded far too cheery. Also, that was what he wanted to talk about? Would they ignore the whole part where his mum treated him like a toddler again? Apparently.

“I don’t know. I'm not looking forward to it, that much is clear.”

When Harry left the office building, Robin already waited for him in the car. He felt uprooted, like he lost contact to the ground his feet were walking on and he was floating somewhere above. It wasn’t a nice floating feeling, not like being high. No, it was a scary, unsettling feeling. The only thing he could cling to, was the thought that, when he moved out, Harry could also leave Dr. Bennett behind.

The boy opened the passenger door and slumped into his seat, staring ahead without really seeing something.

“Alright?”, Robin asked, as he started the car.

“No.”, said Harry and then he ignored everything else Robin said. He knew he was being rude and that Robin and his mum did all of this to help him, but he couldn’t shut down the feeling of betrayal. They were practically forcing him to go to therapy, even though he made it clear a hundred times by now, that Dr. Bennett was an asshat. That he learned today, that his own mother called his therapist from time to time to blab about things that happened, just in case he wouldn’t talk about them, didn’t help either.

When they were a few minutes away from home, Harry said: “Stop here please, I want to walk the rest.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I want to take a walk, that’s why.”

Robin indicated to the left and stopped. “You'll come home, won’t you?” His step-father’s voice was uncertain.

“Yes.”, Harry said and unbuckled his seatbelt, getting out of the car. It was mean of Harry not to assure him any further, he knew that, but he just wanted a moment to breathe and maybe talk to Louis on the phone.

Harry started to walk and only half a minute later, Robin passed him by in the car.

When he finally felt like he wasn’t under supervision anymore, he got his phone out of his pocket and called Louis, hoping he had some time for him. Harry knew that Louis still had to work another hour. But he picked up.

“Hello darling.”

Those simple two words entered his ear canal and shot to his brain, where they caused a whole bunch of happy hormones to dance through his body. “Hey, Lou. Do you have time?”

“Yes, I do. How was therapy?”

“Uhm... Not great.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Harry considered this for a second. “No. No, not really. Uhm... Tell me about your day?”

“Sure, let me see. My alarm clock went off at 4:30, I went through my daily ritual of questioning my life choices, before I got up and took a shower. Then I got dressed and left the house, drove myself to work and tried to drown myself in coffee. Didn’t work unfortunately. And since it’s only one hour left, I can say it now: It was fucking slow today. Outright boring. Just had one lousy toddler with a marble up his nose. Nothing else.”

Louis’ dry way of recounting his day made Harry chuckle. “And why can you only say it now?”

“Oh, because it’s an unwritten rule in hospitals not to say those words. They're cursed, you know? As soon as someone utters them, all hell breaks loose.”

“And you’re safe now?”

Louis laughed. “I hope so! I was really looking forward to getting home and having some take out in front of the telly.”

“Sounds thrilling.”, Harry deadpanned.

“I know, but I’m an old man, love, didn’t you know?”

Harry giggled. “You’re not old, Lou! 33 is not old!”

“Says the little whippersnapper.” Louis was obviously teasing him and Harry blushed. He was glad the doctor couldn’t see it through the phone.

“Shut it, old man.”

There was an exaggerated gasp on the other end. “You just said I wasn’t old! How mean!”

It was so refreshing to talk to Louis. And so easy. Harry appreciated the fact that Louis simply accepted Harry’s refusal to talk about therapy and just gave him exactly what he needed: A distraction.

They bantered back and forth until Harry reached his home and stood on the door step, where they said their goodbyes.

A few hours later, when Harry already sat in his bed, playing mindlessly with his phone, he received a message from Louis.

Lou 21:44: Remind me to never say those cursed words again. I only got home now!

And even though Harry felt immensely bad for Louis, he had to giggle and he was still smiling when he fell asleep.  

Chapter Text

26^th of Februrary

Harry stood inside of the men's loo of the Old Bailey, the grand criminal court building in the midst of London, which you normally only saw on the news. Harry never thought he would be inside of it, let alone secretly crying in its men's bathroom.

He looked into the mirror in front of him, taking a shaky breath. He felt off. He'd felt off the whole week and when he woke up at three a.m., screaming from a nightmare, he felt even worse. His family and him had all spend the night at a hotel in London, to be able to show up on time for the trial. He had shared a room with Gemma and they both stayed up after his rather loud way to wake up. While lying in bed, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling, Harry struggled with himself. His cravings were always worse when he woke up from a nightmare, simply because he wished for some kind of remedy. Being in London, were it was totally possible to get his fix at every corner, didn’t make it any better. If you added the overwhelming anxiety he felt regarding the upcoming trial in the morning, you had the perfect mix for a fiasco. He couldn’t even count the times, he was about to get up and sneak out of the room, but he stayed strong. Maybe it was also the fact that Gemma was wide awake as well and would definitely notice if he tried to slip out. Whatever it was, Harry made it until the morning, where he could get up drowsily, to take a shower and try to wash off the feeling of doom. Hence, Harry’s face looked ashen and the dark circles under his eyes where more than prominent. Still, he did his best to look presentable. He wore his hair up in a neat bun and he was wearing a grey shirt, black suit jacket, black jeans and black boots. He carefully chose this outfit together with his dad a week ago. He wanted to look like he had his shit together. If he had to face Simon, he wanted to look as put together as possible. He wanted that bastard to think that he was fine. That he didn’t damage and traumatise him beyond repair.

He stared into his own eyes, willing his heart rate to calm down by breathing deeply. All morning, him and Gemma had to resort to their techniques they learned in therapy, to not have a total break down or panic attack. It worked most of the time. Gemma only hyperventilated once over breakfast and Harry only cried in the shower and on the way to court in the taxi and just now in the loo.

No more crying from now on!

The door to the bathroom opened and Robin peeked inside. “Harry? You alright there?”

The boy gulped audibly and nodded. Yes. He was alright. He was fine. He could do this.

“Ready to come out then?”

Again, he nodded and walked towards Robin to re-join his family. They all stood outside in the hall, his mum rubbing Gemma’s back and his dad standing there, nervously fiddling with his phone. But there were two additional people now, who hadn’t been there before. Louis and Zayn.

Both were wearing suits, Louis grey and Zayn black, looking better than allowed. Zayn should arrest Louis and himself, honestly. It was a crime to look that good. Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t in the right mind-set to appreciate the vision Louis was, right now. But he still felt marginally better at the sight of him. Louis had received a summons as well, because he was heavily involved in Harry’s rescue and could also confirm Harry’s testimony, by telling the court what he heard and saw himself. Zayn was present, because he was the police officer in charge of the whole operation that led to Harry’s and Gemma’s rescue. He'd already been present at the plea and trial preparation hearing, where Simon’s barrister had the guts to plead ‘not guilty’. That was why they were all here today. A few days prior to today, a woman called Ruth Harris, who was a witness care officer, contacted Harry and Gemma, to explain to them how the Crown Court worked and what would happen at the day of the trial. Harry now knew there would be a jury of twelve and they would decide if Simon (and his cronies) were guilty. That sounded so utterly absurd. It was a fact that Simon was guilty. There was no way anyone would look at all the evidence and decide differently! At least, that was what Harry hoped for.

The boy immediately walked towards Louis, to fall into his waiting arms. No one was allowed to touch him today, but Louis somehow was the solitary exception. Instead of giving him the heebie-jeebies, it calmed him. Louis was his safety blanket.

“Hey, love. How’re you holding up?”,  Louis murmured, gently stroking over Harry’s upper back.

“Don’t know.”, Harry mumbled back, squishing his face against Louis’ shoulder for another few seconds, before taking a big breath and stepping back.

Zayn smiled and held out a hand towards Harry and because he didn’t want to be rude, he took it for the briefest of hand shakes, suppressing a shudder afterwards.

“A lady from the Citizens Advice Witness Service was just here to bring us to a room. We can all wait there until we're called in to give evidence.”, Zayn told him and Harry looked at the other members of their group in surprise. He wasn’t in the loo for that long, was he?

“Oh.”

“I know where to go, I'm in here more often than I'd like. Follow me.”, Zayn said and jerked his head down the hall.

They followed in silence, Harry as close to Louis as possible, behind them Gemma and his mum and then Robin and Desmond.

They filtered into a decent sized room with wood panelling all around, a row of chairs occupying each wall, making it look like a doctor’s waiting room more than anything.

Only two of the chairs near the door were occupied. It was a brunette girl, looking around nineteen or something and an older man, who looked like he could be her father. The girl stared at them and as she laid eyes on Anne and Gemma behind Harry, her face became angry in an instant. She jerked up out of her seat and, to everybody's surprise, she spat at the floor, glaring at Gemma and muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “Fucking bitch.”

Harry was taken aback, but immediately stepped to the side to block the girl’s view of his sister. He failed to protect her for years. Now he could. But Louis seemed to have the same in mind, as he placed himself silently in front of Harry and then Zayn stepped forward, ever the policeman, his arms spread apart widely. “We will all act civilly in this room.”, he proclaimed and the man that accompanied the girl, got up half-way, reached for her and pulled her back into her seat by her arm. “Sit down, Alice! Behave yourself!”

Alice continued to death-glare at Harry’s sister, but as it didn’t seem like she would get up again, Harry felt it was safe to turn around, giving Gemma a disbelieving look.

“What was that about?”, Desmond asked in a hushed voice, voicing what everybody was thinking.

But Gemma had become so pale, that they first ushered her into a chair in the opposite corner of the room and Zayn went to get her some water.

Anne gently stroked over her head and when she asked her daughter again, Gemma seemed to be able to answer at last.

“She lived in the same house as me.”, she croaked, avoiding everybody's eyes.

“And why did she call you that and tried to spit on you?”, Harry blurted out, which earned him a scolding look from his mum.

Gemma shrank together, her head bowed and Harry had never quite seen her like this. So ashamed.

“I didn’t have the best reputation in the house, because Jeffrey liked me.”, she mumbled so quietly, it was like she wanted no one to hear.

It immediately made sense to Harry. Gemma had been kind of a favourite to the man who had managed the house she had lived in. Naturally, the other’s must have despised her for it, because she had been treated better than the other’s.

“Well, fuck her.”, Harry whispered, nudging her foot with his boot, to make her look up at him.

“Harry, language!”, Anne reprimanded at once, but as Gemma finally looked up at her little brother, both siblings grinned at each other in camaraderie. 

That was when Zayn returned with a bunch of paper cups and a bottle of water for them. Louis helped to fill one and handed it over to Gemma, who took it gratefully, taking a few sips.

“Even though your brother did so in a very crude way, I agree. It shouldn’t matter what that girl thinks. We know what a wonderful person you are.”, Robin provided and with that, the matter was settled, as everyone was mumbling their agreement and Gemma seemed to relax slightly.

A few minutes later, as Harry had sat down as well, the door opened again and in came... Harry stiffened, his mind being battered with memories. That was undoubtedly Brad. Harry had the feeling of being ripped out of the present.

5 years prior

Harry was sitting on the cot in the dark room he was brought to, hugging his knees to his chest, even though he should rather be lying on his side, as his bum hurt badly.

But it didn’t feel safe to lie down. Not when he knew who was also in this house. He sniffed, staring at the door, hoping it wouldn’t open, because that would mean pain, he was sure of it. And he couldn’t endure any more tonight. He lost his sister and she was god knows where right now. Then he... he'd been raped. A gurgled, suppressed weep pushed its way out of Harry’s chest and he clamped a hand over his mouth to keep quiet, so he wouldn’t attract any attention. No, he had to stay quiet. If they came in here, he surely would be punished.

He shifted and bit down harshly on his own lip, scrunching up his face in agony. His bum hurt so badly. The slightly damp feeling around it let him know that he was bleeding a bit, which was no surprise to him at all.

He pressed his eyes close and repeated ‘Think of something else’ over and over again, because anytime he thought of the pain, his mind returned to the moment it was inflicted on him. He couldn’t think of that anymore. ‘Think of something else.’

Suddenly, he heard footsteps nearing his door and his breathing became erratic. No. No, they had to leave him alone! He was already injured!

But even though he was praying silently, the door still opened, letting a ray of light fall into the room. A figure stood inside the doorframe and a second later, the light was turned on.

Harry had to blink rapidly, momentarily blinded.

“Oh, you’re new.”, the figure said in a light, surprised tone and when Harry’s eyes finally adjusted, he saw a handsome young man standing there. He had brown, short hair and had a cut in his left eyebrow, that was scabbed-over. He was wearing the tightest jeans, Harry had ever seen and a cropped vest, that showed off his mid-section.

“I'm Brad and I see that they gave you my pyjamas to wear.”, the man smiled, as if he wasn’t bothered at all by this.

26^th of Februrary (present)

The thing that brought him back to reality was a hand that touched his upper arm. It made him flinch so badly, he almost toppled out of his chair.

“Harry, hey, hey, it’s okay, love. It’s just me. Hey, look at me, it’s just me.”

He was filled with instant regret that he made Louis feel bad. But it had been out of his control. The memory, or the flashback, had been so real. For a moment, he'd been 16 again. 16, hurt and so, so scared.

Still, his eyes found Louis' and he latched onto them, hoping that they would keep his fucked up mind in the present. He didn’t want to go back there.

“Hey, there. Deep breaths, darling. It's alright. You’re safe here.”, Louis said and the calmness of his voice washed over him like a soothing wave.

Suddenly, there was a cup of water held under his nose and he took it on autopilot, not risking to look away from Louis yet, even though he slowly regained control. He could hear a few whispered sentences from his family. “He's alright, see?”, Robin whispered in a placating manner and his mum whispered back: “Yes, look how well Louis can calm him down, it’s marvellous!” Hearing, that she approved of Louis and his way of helping Harry, made his chest feel a bit lighter.

“That’s it, love. You’re doing great.”

Harry nodded quickly to show Louis that he was listening to him and understood what he was saying.

It took another few minutes for him to completely calm down, but eventually he was breathing steadily enough to take a few sips of water.

“Sorry.”, he mumbled into the cup.

“No need to be sorry, darling. Want to tell me what it was? Is it the person who came in just now?”

Slower this time, the boy nodded again, searching the room for Brad. He sat on the row of chairs under the windows to their right, already looking at Harry. When their eyes met, Brad cautiously lifted his hand and waved with a little smile. That was the moment, Harry realised Brad was alone. There was no one accompanying him and his heart sunk. He knew Brad’s story. He had told Harry that he ran away from home when he was seventeen. Simon had found him on the street, offered him food and shelter and was nice to him. Until he wasn’t. He'd drugged Brad and implanted the GPS tracker into his back and then told him, if he didn’t do what Simon said, he would be killed and his family would be tracked down and killed as well. Even though, Brad ran away from home, he didn’t want his mother and brother to be murdered, so he submitted. Apparently, Brad still wasn’t in contact with his family, which made Harry feel so sorry for him.

He lifted his hand and waved back with a little, forced smile.

“So, you know him?”, Louis asked, following Harry’s gaze.

“Yes. That’s Brad. Uhm, I think I should say hello.”

“Do you feel up to that?”

“I don’t know, but he's alone.” As if that explained everything, Harry got up and walked over to Brad.

"Hey, H.”, Brad smiled cautiously, standing up and waiting for Harry to either offer a hand or a hug or anything. Harry appreciated that Brad left it up to him, so he stretched out his hand, which was taken with both of Brad’s hands.

“Hey, Brad.”

“How are you?”

A mirthless snort of laughter pushed its way out of the boy’s mouth. “Today? Not great. I'm sure you're not eager to see good old Simon again, are you?”

“Yeah, no. Haven’t slept a single minute tonight. But, listen H. They told me it was you who got us all out in the end and I wanted to thank you.”

Harry quickly shook his head. “If you really want to thank someone, then it should be Louis” Harry half turned and pointed at the doctor, who was watching them argus-eyed. “He did it all. Without him, we would be still... you know.” He almost said something vulgar in ear-shot of his mum and he was sure she would throw a fit, if he said something like ‘sucking dick for cash’ in her presence.

“Oh, yeah. Uhm... did you hear about the others?”, Brad asked distractedly, eyeing Louis while he spoke.

“Uhm, no. Not really. After the hospital, I left London to live with my family up north and I didn’t hear a thing except for the bit they said in the news.” After the police raid and the arrest of a shit-ton of criminals, there had been a bit of media attention on the case, but nothing too detailed.

“Right, yeah, uhm... Most of the girls went to rehab after hospital. I visited Cara a few times. She's not doing all too good in the facility she's at, but I think she's been clean for about a month now.”

Those news made Harry’s mind spring back to last night, where he struggled with his own addiction. Maybe he should have gone to a rehab clinic as well... “Oh... if you see her again, tell her I said hi.”

“Of course I will. How are you, uhm, holding up on that front? I know you thought you've been sneaky, but I know you got hooked on pills towards the end.”

That made Harry look at his old roommate in surprise. He really did think he’d been sneaky. “I'm clean for 3 months now.”, he confessed.

To his astonishment, Brad started to smile broadly. “That’s great, H! Really! 3 months is great!”

That genuine praise of his accomplishment, made Harry smile as well. Apart from Louis, most people tended to speak about it like it was a taboo topic.

“Do you go to meetings?”

“Uhm, no. But I go to therapy.”

“Oh, yeah, me as well. Helps a lot, doesn’t it?”

Again, Harry laughed, but without any happiness. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe.”  It would totally go beyond the constraints of their conversation, if he told Brad that Dr. Bennett was a git.

There was the sound of the door opening and as Harry jerked around, he could see a man in uniform stand there.  “Officer Zayn Malik, you are being summoned to the court room to give evidence.”

Oh, they were already calling in witnesses. Harry had been prepared to wait for a long while and now it was happening already. His heart stumbled over a few beats as he watched Zayn stand up and leave the room with a stern expression.

For all Harry knew, he could be next. Fuck.

“You okay, H?”, he heard Brad ask.

“Uhm, no. Sorry, I’ve got to sit down. We'll talk later, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Harry all but stumbled back to his seat, where Louis already waited for him with concern written all over his face.

“You don’t look good, love.”

“I don’t feel good.”, he confirmed.

“Are you going to be sick?”

The boy shook his head, even though he couldn’t rule it out completely that he might throw up all over the hardwood floor.

Someone stepped in front of him and when he looked up, it was his dad, who held another cup of water in his hands. “Here, drink a few sips.”

He received the cup, but couldn’t bring himself to drink, because it felt like it wouldn’t stay down at the moment. It became all too real too soon. The trial was really happening. He could be called in any minute now, to tell in front of a jury and reporters and his rapist himself what had happened to him.

“How about we all breathe together?”, he heard his mum suggest and a quick glance to the side, showed him that Gemma looked just as green around her nose.

“Yes, let’s. Good idea.”, Louis nodded and reached out his hand in slow motion for Harry to take. The boy gratefully accepted the offer and listened to his mum how she counted, trying to breathe in and out when she said so.

It could have been a minute, or an hour, Harry couldn’t tell. But suddenly the door opened again and the same uniformed man stood there. “Harry Edward Styles, you are being summoned to the court room to give evidence.”

Harry’s hand squeezed down on Louis', sitting there stock still.

“Harry.”, Louis said and like always, his voice was so marvellously calm. “You have to go now. You know what to do.”

Still, Harry didn’t move.

“Harry Edward Styles?”, the man at the door asked, searching the room with a raised eyebrow.

“He's here. Give him a second, please.”, Robin said and he came into Harry’s field of vision. “Hey, my boy. It’s time. You can do this.”

“Come on, love. I'm sure it’s okay if I'll walk you to the court room.”

Louis now stood up and gently tugged on Harry’s hand to get him to stand up. Easier said than done if your legs were made out of nothing more than jelly.

Either way, he somehow made it to his feet and then there was his mum, tears in her eyes, as she slowly leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You can do this. You’re my son and I know that you’re strong enough to do it.”, she whispered to him. His dad was sitting beside Gemma, who looked at Harry with wide eyes full of panic. Strangely, that gave Harry a sudden burst of determination. He did all this to get Gemma out and he would end this today. He would go out there and tell the world what Simon did to them, to get him behind bars for the rest of his life. For Gemma’s sake.

With this new fire inside of him, he managed to walk over to the door, Louis by his side and holding his hand.

“Follow me, please.”, the man who awaited them said and walked ahead of them. The noise of their feet on the marble floors echoing through the halls, matched Harry’s heartbeat. Fast and arrhythmic. It wasn’t very far and soon they stopped next to a tall wooden door.

“You can do it, darling. I know you can.”, Louis quietly  said, before he gently  freed his hand out of Harry’s death grip.

“I can do it.”, he mumbled and nodded.

The door was opened by the uniformed man and Harry marched ahead on shaky legs.

Chapter Text

“Mr Styles?”

Harry’s head jerked to the side, his eyes wrenched away from Zayn's face. The police officer sat in the rows in the back, that were meant for the audience. They were mainly empty, except for the corner that was meant for the press. Harry tried with all his might to blank out those men and women, who animatedly scribbled stuff down, whenever something was said. Harry also couldn’t quite bring himself to look at the twelve people at the side, who made up the jury. Some of them had such a pitying look on their face, it was hard to watch. What was even worse, where those who looked critical, like they didn’t really believe what Harry was telling them. The one person, he tried to avoid looking at, at all costs, was Simon of course. He sat there, leaned back, like all of this was a joke to him, a smug expression on his face ever since Harry accidentally looked his way.

So, the place Harry glued his eyes to, was Zayn. He wasn’t familiar, in the proper meaning of the word, but at least Harry was sure that he was on his side.

Unfortunately, Harry had lost the plot again. It happened three times already, that the prosecutor had to get Harry back to reality by saying his name. But could Harry really be blamed? As soon as he stepped into the court room, walking past Simon, who had that barely concealed grin on his face, Harry had been in a state of constant panic. He was battling his own mind to stay present, to not get lost in flashbacks. By now, it felt like his body was in the court room, but at least half of his mind, had gone to other places. Simply said, it was hard to keep his focus on what was said.

“I'm sorry. Could you repeat that, please?”, he all but mumbled. Was it normal for his face to feel so numb?

The prosecutor, a man named Ashwood, looked like he was losing his patience for a second, but then he had himself back under control. “Of course. I simply asked you to confirm that it is you on those pictures.” He motioned to a big pin board, which had indeed pictures on it. Most of them showed Harry’s body up close, to show his injuries and scars. They had been taken in the hospital after he'd been rescued.

Apparently, the boy had been distracted enough, to totally miss the discussion about those.

He blinked a few times, forcing himself to take a good look to be sure it was really him. But it was unmistakeable. Those were most definitely his scars. He gulped and turned his head away again and nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

“And could you tell us how you received the injuries shown on those pictures?”

“Uhm, all of them?”, he asked, because that could hardly be what was meant, right? Harry’s body was littered with scars and they would sit here all day long, if he tried to tell the story of each single one.

“No, but could you maybe give us a brief summary?”

Harry’s eyes flickered nervously over to the jury, because he couldn’t shake the feeling, that he was doing a pretty shit job as a witness. They still watched him with their expression of pity or scepticism.

“Uhm, sure.” Where the fuck should he start? “Uhm, the small round ones, are cigarette burns. I got them from S- Mr. Cowell as punishment, or simply because he felt like it.” Harry had to stop himself again and again from calling Simon by his first name. The witness care officer lady had told him that it would be better to call Simon by his last name, to show that they weren’t close in any case. “Uhm, most of the scars on my back, which look like scratches or cuts, are from punters, who liked it when I bled. Same goes for the ones my front. Uhm, the big, wriggly scar on my, uhm, my butt that looks somewhat like an S is from Mr Cowell as a sign of ownership. The others I mostly got when I was beaten up.” Harry could feel his face heat up in shame. All of those people were having a look at pictures of his body.

“And who beat you up?”

“Uhm, most of the time, it was Ewan, uhm, Mr Baird.”

“And why did Mr Baird beat you up?”

“Because S- Mr Cowell told him to, to punish me, or to keep me in line.”

“Thank you, Mr Styles.”, Mr Ashwood said, before turning back to the jury. “You see, what the victim had to endure day in, day out...”

The speech became a faint drone in Harry’s ears, as he moved his eyes back to Zayn, who looked back at him with his dark eyes.

The victim . Harry heard that term so often now. To him, it sounded strange. One night, when he lay in his bed, he googled the definition of the word. While reading through the google results, he stumbled over the question ‘Is victim a negative word?’ The answer was yes. ‘Almost any way you look at it, “victim” contains a negative connotation, implying weakness and inferiority.’

Weakness and inferiority. Basically, by calling him the victim, they were calling him weak. The weak one, who let stuff happen to him. Even though he didn’t like it, he couldn’t help but think that they were right. He did let them do all those things to him. He just took it. Sometimes he begged for mercy. Like a weakling.

Again, he was wrenched out of his thoughts by Mr Ashwood, who then asked him to recount how the GPS device was implanted into his shoulder and how it was used to keep him under control. At one point, while Harry was speaking, the prosecutor held up a clear bag, which contained the GPS device, which had been retrieved from Harry’s shoulder. The whole trial was basically a horror cabinet of Harry’s worst fears and nightmares, all neatly pinned onto a board, for people to ogle at.

But he got through it, by reminding himself over and over again that it was up to him to tell them what Simon did. Of course, some evidence, like the shitload of cash found in his room, the firearms found all over the house, the contacts in his phone, the drugs in storages under his name, spoke for itself. But Harry wanted him to be punished for what he did to the living, breathing human beings, he held like cattle in his house.

This got him through it. Somehow. It was all bearable, until Simon’s barrister stood up for the cross examination.

From the very beginning, it was clear, that he wanted to make Harry look as untrustworthy as possible. The main focus lay on Harry’s addiction. The man tried to spin the tale of Harry being an addict from the beginning, running away with his sister to London, with the clear intent of prostituting himself in exchange for drugs. Even though Mr Ashwood yelled “Objection!” time and time again, the barrister still managed it to leave Harry a hyperventilating mess. What had been the question just now? Was he supposed to say something? Yes or No? His wildly flickering eyes suddenly landed on Simon, who watched him with a face of mild amusement, like it was funny to watch Harry slowly lose his grip.

“Mr Styles, is it not true, that it was custom in the house to trade sexual favours for drugs?”, he could hear the barrister ask loudly.

His heart plummeted to the region were his feet were nervously bouncing on the ground. It was true. He could hardly deny it. If others were asked in regard to that, and they said yes, it would be clear that he lied.

So, he nodded feebly.

“Please answer verbally, Mr Styles.”, the judge reminded him quietly.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“And did you participate in that practice?”

The shame he felt, was all-consuming.

“Objection! The victim does not stand trial here.”, Mr Ashwood interjected, his tone exasperated.

“What is the point of the question, Mr Gregory?”, the judge sighed.

“The point is to clear my client of the accusation that he forced the witness into prostitution.”

Again, the judge sighed, clearly not happy with the way things were going. Still, he nodded and said: “Objection overruled. Proceed.”

“Did you participate in exchanging sexual favours for drugs and other things, Mr Styles?”

“Yes, but-“

“Did you do it out of your own free will, or did someone force you?”

“I did it because‐”

“Let me rephrase the question. Did you do it out of your own free will, yes or no?”

Harry could barely contain the angry, ashamed tears, that threatened to fall any second now. “Yes.”, he croaked, burying his nails into his thighs, because the pain let him stay in control, at least somewhat.

The barrister gleefully turned to the jury. “You see, the witness admits to having prostituted himself...”

Harry started sobbing. He swore to himself so many times he wouldn’t cry once he was in the court room. But it simply happened. This was so unfair. Of course he wasn’t a saint! How should he be? He needed to survive and to do that, he needed to adapt. That meant to forget morals and all that stuff sometimes. But did this make Simon less guilty? No! But that was exactly what that man was trying to say right now.

Through his tears he could see, how the jury listened attentively to Mr Gregory's speech, like he wasn’t spewing out lies.

“Mr Styles.”, a quiet voice to his right said and Harry turned his head. The judge held out a box of tissues, a somewhat grim expression on his face. Gratefully, Harry took a couple of tissues, to clean up his face, even though his face was wet again in a matter of seconds as new tears replaced the old ones.

When Harry felt like he couldn’t stand to watch his shaking hands on his knees one more second, he looked up again to the audience gallery at the back of the court room. As soon as his eyes met Zayn’s, the policeman shook his head with a stern expression and then put the flat back of his hand under his chin, lifting it up with it. The message was clear. Keep your head up.

Harry clenched his jaw together and sat up a bit straighter. Zayn was right. Harry did do all those things, but he knew they were wrong. That was what distinguished him from people like Simon. He may have given a blowjob in exchange for a bit of extra money to buy food or for some pills. Simon did the worst of everything, rape, selling drugs and people, probably murder, too, just for his own profit, without feeling remorse.

Harry wasn’t like him.

He continued to stare at Zayn, who reciprocated his intense gaze. Of course it wasn’t the security Louis could make him feel, but it was better than nothing. At least Zayn was on his side.

After some time, he managed it to stop crying, just in time for Mr Ashwood to stand up again.

It was time for him to read out his personal statement now, but his face has gotten so numb, he couldn’t seem to locate his mouth any longer and he simply stared down at the sheet for a minute, until the judge took pity on Harry and asked Mr Atkins to do it in his stead. Harry didn’t listen. He knew what it said. He had given it a month after returning home, to a police officer of Zayn’s squad. He just hoped, the jury was listening now too, because it wasn’t a dry recount of all the things that happened to him. It was a statement about how all of this affected him and probably would, for the rest of his life.

“Do you want to add something, Mr Styles?”, Ashwood asked, when he read it all out loud.

“No, only that I hope that the jury will make the right decision.” He wished his voice was strong and firm, but it came out shakily, his voice sounding rough from crying.

“Thank you, Mr Styles. You may sit down in the back now, or return to the waiting room. If you wish so, you will be informed when the jury came to a decision and you may return to the court room for the verdict.”

“Thank you.”, Harry nodded as he stood up on shaky legs. As much as he wanted to hear what was going on, he couldn’t stand to stay in the presence of Simon’s ugly sneer one second longer.

His jelly-like legs carried him towards his abuser, who had the temerity to wink at him, just as Harry passed him.

It made Harry jerk to a halt, his whole body shaking with the pent-up rage of the last 5 years. In this moment, he didn’t feel one ounce of fear. Just fury.

But suddenly, there was someone next to him, gently gripping him by the arm. Harry didn’t even flinch, he was so focussed on the rightful rage, that made his body vibrate.

“He's not worth it. Come on, Harry.”, Zayn whispered, tugging at his arm, to make him move. He knew Zayn was right. He also knew he couldn’t start a fight in the midst of a court room. Still, he stared at Simon for a moment longer, trying to convey with only his eyes what he thought of him. Then he scoffed and let Zayn guide him away, down the isle, towards the door. With every step, Harry felt the energy, he just had soaring through his body, leave him. When the door was opened for them, Harry was shaking again, but this time it was definitively his circulation that was collapsing.

To his luck, Louis stood just outside the door, catching Harry in his arms, when his knees failed him.

“I've got you, darling. You did it. I'm so proud of you!"

Chapter Text

Louis took a huge gulp from his pint, just as the other three lads. It was one of the rare nights, where they all were free to meet each other at their favourite pub. Zayn was often tied up with his work, just like Louis himself. Liam had a two year old son, a wife and a challenging teaching job, so he wasn’t as flexible anymore. And Niall, the youngest of their group, was pretty occupied with finishing his psychology masters degree.

They all let out an exaggerated “Ahhhhh.” after finishing half of their drinks and grinned at each other.

“Sooooo. What have you lot been up to?”, Niall asked with his pronounced Irish accent, which he still had, even though he left Ireland at the age of 6.

“Ah, the usual with me really, but Tommo and Zayn were at court yesterday.”, Liam answered, waggling his hand around in the general direction of Louis and Zayn, who sat next to each other.

Niall’s eyebrows flew up in mock surprise. “What? Really? What's the charge?”

“Oh, only human trafficking, drug trafficking, kidnapping, assault, pandering, rape, abuse... just to name a few.”, Zayn listed casually, counting the crimes on his fingers.

Louis saw how Niall rolled his eyes, when Zayn ignored his joke so blatantly.

“So, bring me up to date then. Last thing I've heard, was that your boy made himself scarce and went up north with his parents. Because I assume that’s what this is about, right?”, Niall deduced correctly. Niall belonged to Louis’ closest friends, of course he knew all about Harry.

“Well, the trial was yesterday and the bastards got what they deserved. The one that was in charge is in for life. You should’ve seen it when the judge read out the verdict. It was awesome.”, Louis grinned, still elated by the fact, that all who were responsible for Harry’s pain, where now behind bars. The moment when the judge had read out the verdict had been  nerve-wracking at first, but when it became clear that Simon had been found guilty on all counts, it had been massively relieving. Louis had held Harry’s hand and when Harry began to sway a bit, he had held him upright. Louis could only imagine what it felt like to hear that your abuser, the man who raped you when you were a still a child, received a life sentence.

 “That’s great! Bastards really had it coming. How's Harry then?”

Louis grimaced and took another sip of his beer. “He's tough, but he could do better. He has some problems with adjusting to a normal life and his family is giving him a bit of a hard time and he doesn’t like his therapist. Like at all. A few weeks ago, when I visited him for his birthday, he told me he wanted to move out.”

“Really?”, Zayn now asked, because apparently Louis failed to mention that to him.

“Yes, really. And I told him, I'd be happy to support him through all of it, but... Am I doing the right thing here, guys?” He lay awake so many nights, contemplating this question.

“I feel like we need some more background information before answering, mate.”, Liam said wisely and the others nodded in agreement. That lead to a ten minute discourse, where Louis told them as much as he felt Harry would be okay with others knowing. “Well and now he wants to move out.”, Louis ended, waiting for his friends to answer.

“Do you want to have the psychology student answer or the friend answer?”, Niall asked, putting both of his elbows on the table, to put his chin on the back of his hands, blinking at Louis with his large blue eyes like an owl.

Louis sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Are they very different?”

Niall shrugged with a little smile. “Ah, not massively so. The psychology student would of course tell you, that Harry should not quit therapy at this point, like at all. And he shouldn’t be on his own. Your friend would say, that you should do what feels right.”

“Well said, Nialler.”, Liam praised him and patted his shoulder.

Louis rubbed his forehead, taking those words in. “Hm, I absolutely agree that Harry shouldn't be alone and that’s why I will propose that he moves in with me. He can have his own room, but I would be there if he needed my help, you know. Downside of this is, of course, that I live in London and that means he would be a few hours away from his family and I don’t know if he wants that much distance and it would also mean, he would be in London, where he could buy drugs on every fucking corner. But the therapy thing is exactly what I am thinking too, but this shouldn’t mean he can’t move out. There are a lot of therapist in London, I just have to find him a good one.”

“Your mum’s a therapist, too, right?”, Zayn asked, looking at Niall eagerly.

“Uh, yes?”

Louis got what Zayn was about to ask. They met Maura a few times and she was a lovely lady. She also had a very good reputation as a therapist.

“Maybe you could ask her if she had a spot for Harry.”, Louis blurted out eagerly, before Zayn could even part his lips again to speak.

Niall looked like he had to think about this for a moment, but then he shrugged again. “Yeah, sure, I can ask her. I mean, I can’t promise anything, because she’s at capacity most of the time, but I'll ask her. I'll use my puppy eyes.”

“Thanks, Nialler! That would be awesome!”, Louis grinned happily and emptied his pint in one big swig. “Next round’s on me.”

Harry just came back to his room from the bathroom, when he heard his phone chiming somewhere in the depths of his blankets on his bed. He hurried over, rummaging through his bedding to find it. “Fuck, where is it?”, he cursed, when he still didn’t find it. In a last attempt, he took his blanket and shook it out wildly, until a clattering noise told him, it fell to the floor. He rounded his bed, to see that it indeed lay there, but it wasn’t ringing anymore. When he picked it up, he saw that it had been Louis calling.

“Fuck!” Immediately he redialled his number, having to wait only 2 seconds before Louis picked up.

“Hey darling. Have I woken you up?”

Something wasn’t quite right. Louis sounded strange. He somehow slurred his words.

“Hey, Lou. No, sorry I just wasn’t fast enough to pick up.”

“Ohh, haha, okay. Well, I must say I'm glad that you’re not asleep.”

Okay, there was definitely something going on. Louis never sounded like that. Harry's eyes narrowed, until suddenly it clicked and he let out a little giggle. “Lou, are you drunk?”

There was something akin to a grunt on the other end. “No... I mean... Maybe a bit. Shit, I'm not a very good role model, am I?”

Harry let out an amused snort, while he settled back into his bed. “Lou, just because I'm an addict, doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. Tell me about your night then.”

“Oh, uhm, I just met up with the lads at the pub.”

Harry smiled. “And who are the lads?”

“You know, Liam and Zayn of course and Niall finally had the decency to crawl out of his flat as well.”

“And did you have fun?”, Harry inquired.

Here he could hear the doctor cackle. “Yeah, I’d say so. I made Liam do a handstand in front of a group of ladies and he nearly crashed into their table. The owner nearly chucked us out.”

“Oh, did he? I wonder why.”, Harry laughed. “And now? On your way home?”

“Yup, I am. Don’t have it very far, it’s just around the corner.”

The sentence threw Harry back in time for a second, where Harry had sat in a back alley in Soho, blood running down the side of his face, a concerned Louis kneeling before him. The doctor had used those exact words back then. “How about you come with us to my place? It’s just around the corner.” He could hear the words echoing in his ear, but shook himself out of it rather quickly.

“How convenient.”, Harry nodded, hoping he sounded like he was mocking Louis.

“It sure is. I'm already at my door. Listen, I called because I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”, Harry grinned, because he was sure it must be something ridiculous.

“Uhm, I thought a lot about, you know, you moving out. I know you said you wanted to, after the trial.”

Oh, that wasn’t the funny topic Harry anticipated. “Yes, but that isn't a question, Lou.”

“Oh, it’s not Mr Cleverclogs?”, Louis deadpanned, which made Harry giggle a bit. “I know it’s not a question.”

Harry could hear how Louis voice echoed a bit, which meant that he was inside his building now.

“What’s the question then, Lou?”

“Do you know that I love it how you say that? Louuuuuuuuu.”

The boy rolled his eyes, but he could feel how his cheeks warmed up in embarrassment. “Is that your question then?”, he asked cheekily, fanning himself to cool down his face again.

“No, of course not!”, Louis whined. “Wait I have to open my door.”

There was some jingling and Louis cursed under his breath a couple of times, until Harry heard the distinctive sound of a door opening and closing.

“Ha, made it!”, Louis cheered.

“Wow, I should call the national press! Drunk doctor makes it into own flat without assistance! Dashing headline!”

“You're a little shit, you know that?”, Louis asked, taking the sting out of his words completely by laughing exuberantly.

Harry only made an amused humming sound as an answer.

“Okay, okay. Back to the important stuff. I wanted to ask you something.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Harry!”, Louis laughed. “Okay, listen.”

“I'm aaaall ears.”

“I'm pretty sure you're all mouth at this moment. Anyways, I wanted to ask... you plan to move out, right? And you need to move somewhere. I wanted to ask if you maybe, uhm, want to move in with me?”

Harry expected everything but this. Sure, he daydreamed about this once or twice (or a hundred times). But he always came to the conclusion that Louis would never want him at his place. At least not immediately. They only established that they liked each other at the beginning of this month. The boy just sat there, mouth open in bewilderment.

The silence obviously made Louis nervous, because he started to ramble. “I mean, I know it’s a lot to ask. Surely you want to stay closer to your parents and if I'm moving too fast you have to tell me, please! I just thought, I have a spare room, you know. It’s my office of sorts, but I never use it anyways, so I thought, you might want to have it. You wouldn’t even have to pay rent. I just thought I might ask-“

“Louis.”, Harry interrupted the other man. “Are you asking me this because you’re drunk?”

A millisecond of silence on the other end and then Louis pushed out a little laugh. “No. Of course not. I’m thinking about this the whole month already, but I wasn’t brave enough to ask you.”

Harry bit his lip. “Do you want an answer right now?”

“No! No, you can think about it as long as you want! No pressure! No pressure with answering and no pressure to move in with me. I mean, I think it would be grand if you moved in, but I’d totally understand if you don’t want to.”

“Lou, relax. I probably will say yes anyways, but I want to sleep over it to be sure.”

“Oh... Yes. Sure! Want to start sleeping now?”, the doctor asked keenly, as if Harry would answer faster, if he closed his eyes now.

Harry laughed, totally endeared, shaking his head. “No, Lou. I'd rather talk to you a bit longer. You're funny when you’re drunk.”

There was a long sigh. “I know, sorry again for this.”

“Don’t be sorry! I'm having a great time here.”, he tried to reassure the older man. “So, what are you doing now?”

“I'm sitting on my couch.”

“What, you're just sitting there?”, Harry laughed.

“Well, I'm also breathing and talking to you, what else do you want?”

Harry cackled so loudly, he quickly pressed his head into his pillow to muffle it. It was rather late after all and he didn’t want to disturb the other inhabitants of the house.

“I'm also making you laugh, apparently.”, Louis added dryly, even though the fondness was clearly audible in his tone.

“Yes, you are.”, Harry wheezed.

“What are you doing then, apart from laughing?”

“I'm in my bed.”, Harry provided, the last remnants of his laughing attack ebbing away.

“Doing what?”

“Speaking to you?”

“Sure. Glad we established that we're speaking to each other.”

“Yeah, I mean, what else would I do right now?”, Harry asked and for some reason, he felt an excited flutter in his belly.

“What would you do, if you weren't talking to me right now?”

Harry bit his lip again, feeling the flutter in his guts again. Was Louis attempting to flirt... in a sexy way? Harry’s face was on fire, when he answered. “Probably thinking about you.”

For a moment, Harry could only hear Louis’ breathing. “Yeah? What about me?” He sounded less drunk somehow, his voice lower and breathy, all the amusement gone, suddenly replaced by a thrilling atmosphere.

“I like to think about you.”, Harry confessed. Was he brave enough to do this? Should he continue this, whatever the fuck this was? “Especially when I'm in bed.”, he added and then immediately bit into his fist. What was he doing here? Shit! Oh god, was he embarrassing himself? He totally was! His face was on fire, just as his heartbeat, while he waited for a response.

“Is that so?”, Louis asked slowly and Harry was extremely sure that the man was smirking.

“Yes.”, he squeaked and suddenly it was all too much. He was not ready for this kind of stuff. In a knee-jerk reaction, he took the phone from his ear and hung up.

Harry stared at his phone, his mouth open and panting. What the fuck? Did he just end the call with Louis, after making a lewd suggestion? He wanted to die of embarrassment. Someone bring him a shovel, he needed to dig a hole, to bury himself. He was a goddamn prostitute, even if he retired, he should be able to... do this.

And then he flinched, when the phone in his hand started to vibrate with another incoming call. It was Louis. Of course it was Louis! Harry just hung up, without saying anything!

“Fuck!”, he whimpered, closed his eyes and took the call.

“Hello?”, Louis voice asked, when Harry didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The shame was too colossal.

“M-hm.”, he got out.

“Darling, are you okay? Did you just hang up?”

“Hmmmmm.”, the boy whined, turning onto his tummy to bury his face into his pillow.

“Harry, are you okay? What happened?”

“I'm sorry.”, he mumbled into the pillow and apparently it was too muffled for Louis to understand.

“I'm sorry, what? I didn’t get that, love.”

Harry hit his face into the pillow repeatedly, before coming up for air. “I'm sorry.”

“Why? Was it too much, love?”

Harry nodded, before he remembered that Louis couldn’t see that. “Yeah, sorry.”

This was all so embarrassing.

“Don’t be, darling. It’s okay. Everything at your pace.”, Louis breathed gently into the phone and Harry’s heart twinged, because Louis proved time and time again how understanding and perfect he was.

“Still, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t start things I can’t finish. That’s mean.”

“Bullshit, Harry. You can start everything you want and stop at any point! That’s the fun of it!”

Harry saw that quite differently. “No... I mean, it’s one thing to let you wait for me for god knows how long, I don’t have to go and dangle it in front of your face and then stop because I'm to fucked in the head.”

“I don’t want you to talk like this about yourself.”, Louis said earnestly. “And please, listen to me, darling. Trust me to know my limits, just as I trust you to know yours, even if you figure them out last second. I can and will wait for you. I will respect your boundaries. Always. You never have to be afraid to try something you want with me. And if you realise you don’t like it or it was to early to try it, you stop. You tell me and we stop and that’s perfectly fine. Okay?”

All Harry could do after that speech was to pick up the hem of his old sleep shirt and wipe his face with it, because there were tears everywhere. “I think I need some time to get that into my head.”, he sniffed.

“I know. Please stop crying, babe.”

And Harry almost did, because Louis just called him babe. God, Harry liked it when Louis called him pet names. And even though there were still tears rolling down his cheeks, he had to smile the tiniest bit.

“I'll stop in a minute.”, he croaked and wiped his face again, which left the bottom of his t-shirt in an uncomfortably wet state.

“Take all the time you need. Believe it or not, I don’t have to get up tomorrow morning. I have a night shift.”

Glad that Louis was changing the subject so readily, Harry decided it would be nice to talk a bit more after all. “Oh, so you can sleep in?”

“You can bet your arse on that one, love. I will have a lie-in so hard, I might be late for the night shift.”

Finally, that brought back Harry’s smile.

“Sounds nice. Will you call me if you wake up and still have time before work?”

“I can do that, sure. Why?”

“Well, I have to tell you about my decision after sleeping on it, right?”

“Love, you don’t have to actually decide this over night.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I know that. I told you, I might already have decided. Sleeping on it is just a precaution.”

Louis chuckled. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”, Harry confirmed.

One week later

Louis nervously tapped on the steering wheel of his car, mindlessly humming along to the song on the radio. He was about five minutes away from Harry’s house and he was about to shit his pants.

The official reason for his visit was exactly that, an innocent visit with no ulterior motives whatsoever. That was what Harry told his parents anyways. So they were completely clueless, that Harry planned to tell them he was moving out and Louis was there to support him in his decision.

Even though Louis was of the conviction that Harry, as a twenty-one year old, had all the right to move out if he wanted to, he also believed that it wouldn’t be an easy day. It was a fact, that Anne would have a thing or two to say about this, Louis was sure. And he kind of understood. If he had a son, who he believed to be dead for four years, that just came back to him and also had certain problems with his mental health and addiction, he probably would have more than one or two things to say on the matter. Still. Harry was an adult. He had the right to make that decision and maybe it would ease things a bit, if his parents knew, he wasn’t completely alone, that Louis was by his side to help him. That’s what he hoped, at least. It could, of course, also turn into a complete disaster. But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. First thing was getting there and Louis was about to. He followed the navigation on his phone and turned left into Harry’s street. And then he was there. Louis parked by the side of the road and got out, taking in a deep breath. When he looked up, he let out a surprised laugh, because a window on the first floor, above the entrance door, was open and Harry stood inside it, waving with a dorky grin on his face. Louis waved back with an equally big grin. Even from that distance, he couldn't help but think how beautiful that boy was.

“I'm going to ring the bell now.”, Louis told him, as he walked towards the front door.

“See you in a second.”, Harry called and shut the window.

Louis shook his head in endearment, still smiling broadly when he pointed his finger and pushed the bell button.

Chapter Text

Harry wasn’t going to lie. It was one of the best feelings ever to be hugged by Louis. His arms were gentle but strong at the same time, giving just the right amount of pressure to make Harry feel secure. He wished it would be appropriate to just hug Louis for an hour or two. But he knew that his mum was in the kitchen, probably hovering by the door, to watch them sneakily. He knew that Robin was in his office and that he’d be down soon to greet Louis. Gemma was out on a walk, so at least Harry wouldn’t have to be worried about being teased by her. 

“How are you, darling?”, Louis whispered, his breath tickling Harry’s neck, which made him shudder slightly, but in a good way. Definitely in a good way. 

“Fucking nervous. But I'm happy that you’re here.”, Harry whispered back.

Harry still hadn’t let go of the doctor and it seemed like Louis was happy to oblige and let Harry have as much hugging-time as he wanted. 

How could a person smell so nice? Harry turned his head a bit further into the older man's neck, hopefully in a subtle way. There he took, what he hoped was, a subtle sniff. 

“That tickles like hell, babe.”, Louis whispered and even though he kept perfectly still, his whisper sounded a bit strained. 

“Oh.”, Harry made and drew back a little, not letting go just yet. Like this he could see that Louis cheeks were slightly pink and his eyes were crinkled with his sheepish little smile. “Sorry. You smell nice.” 

That made the almost shy smile turn into a smirk really fast. “Thanks, love. You do too, by the way.” 

This made Harry finally release Louis, because he had to go through his routine of blushing like a tomato, avert his eyes and run his fingers through his open hair nervously.

“Uhm, so, uh, do you want to come in?”

Louis looked at the closed  entrance door behind him with an arched eyebrow, like he wanted to say: I'm already inside, am I not? But he still said: “Yes, thanks.”, like the gentleman he was.

“Right, uhm, living room?”, Harry proposed. It was really strange, how he could feel so safe and secure in Louis presence in one moment and the next second he was a nervous, stuttering mess. 

“Lead the way, darling.”, Louis smiled and held out his hand for Harry to take. 

The moment, the boy took the offered hand, was also the moment he realised that they were doing this a lot. Holding hands. Like... boyfriends. He never questioned it before, because it always felt like Louis was doing it to somehow support Harry with a physical touch the boy could tolerate. But from the perspective of an outsider, it must look like boyfriends holding hands. This realisation made Louis' delicate hand somehow feel different. Or Harry was just much more aware of it suddenly. Whatever it was, it made his tummy erupt with butterflies. 

It was also the moment, the door to the kitchen opened and Anne came into view.

“Louis, it’s so good to see you!”, she said with a genuine, bright smile.

Harry let Louis greet his mother, even though he mourned the loss of his hand, which he know used to pat his mothers back as they hugged. 

And since he just thought about how they might look like boyfriends, he of course thought about what his parents thought of them both. They never really talked about what exactly Louis was to Harry, or even generally about Harry’s sexuality. Was that strange? Or did this just mean he didn’t have to come out to his parents, because they already knew, or at least guessed he wasn’t straight and they were just this accepting of it? Because it certainly seemed so. They obviously liked Louis and they didn’t question it once, when Harry told them that Louis would come and visit. Or did they think they were just good friends? That was definitely something to bring up in a conversation with them some time soon. 

Anyhow, Anne said she had to get back to the kitchen, because she was baking biscuits, which left the two alone again. 

Now it was Harry, who held out his hand and the doctor took it and let Harry pull him into the empty living room. 

They settled down on the couch next to each other.

Okay, what now? Harry didn’t really think this through. All he thought about was telling his parents that he wanted to move out. He didn’t think about the prospect of being alone with Louis for a while. 

Of course, his parents wouldn’t sit down with them. Harry invited Louis and they probably thought it was the decent thing to do to leave them alone. 

And now they were alone. On a couch. Next to each other. Not that this was their first time alone on a couch, but the last time, Harry was high, which had made things a lot easier. Also, it had been Louis’ couch, which had taken the pressure of Harry, because the host was supposed to be the one to do the hosting.

“Uhm, do you want a tea?” 

“No, thanks, love.”, Louis smiled and shook his head. 

“A water?”

“No, thanks.” 

“Uh, a coffee?” 

“I'm not thirsty, babe.” The older man was full on laughing now. 

Harry pulled down his eyebrows and pouted, which made Louis coo, but he still chuckled. 

“Sorry, love.” He reached out to softly caress Harry’s jaw. “Just relax, yeah? No need to be nervous.”

The boy tilted hid head into the touch, closing his eyes for just a moment to get his haywire feelings back under control. 

“Sometimes you give off major puppy energy.” Louis’ voice was warm, but it had a teasing undertone in it, which made Harry squint at him. 

“A grumpy puppy.”

“Heeeeeeey.”, Harry drawled, trying to sound offended, but he couldn’t contain the slight smile.

Louis extended his hand once again, to put the tip of his index finger into Harry’s left dimple, his eyes open and warm. “I love it when those pop out. Makes me think you’re happy.” 

Again, Harry bowed his head to the side, to make Louis cup his face. “I kind of am when you’re with me.”, he confessed quietly, which made Louis beam. 

“Well, I hope to be with you a lot more very soon.” 

Harry’s smile faltered a bit. The mere thought of telling his mum that he wanted to leave her, made his stomach feel heavy with anxiety. “There are a couple of things we have to do first.”, he said and Louis nodded with a sigh, letting his hand fall away from the side of Harry’s face.

“Yeah, I know. How do you want to do this?”

“Uhm... I don’t fucking know, Lou. To be honest, I hoped you’d kind of have a plan.” 

Louis immediately grimaced, shaking his head. “I'm sorry, love, but I'm just as clueless here. Guess we'll just have to play it by ear.” 

“Yeah.”, Harry sighed, letting his shoulders sag a bit. “Maybe we should let mum finish her biscuits first.”

The doctor snorted. “Yeah, maybe.” 

They ended up watching telly, sitting next to each other, horribly aware of how close the other was. When the door to the living room opened and Robin walked in from the kitchen, Harry blushed. He didn’t even know why, because they weren’t doing anything, but somehow he felt like Robin just caught them snogging or something. 

“Louis! How nice to see you again!”, Robin smiled broadly, walking further into the room. Louis quickly got up to greet Robin and Harry followed him closely. 

“Want a tea now?” 

“Yes, sure, why not.”

They all entered the kitchen, to find Anne dipping biscuits into melted chocolate.

“Oh wow, they look delicious!”, Louis complimented her and she looked up and smiled happily. 

“Thanks, dear. You can try one if you want.” 

“I'm not saying no to that.” 

Harry grabbed a biscuit in passing, stuffing it into his mouth, before he took the kettle to fill it up.

“Do you want to have tea with us?”, Harry asked as nonchalantly as he could manage. 

“Oh? Don’t you two want to be alone? Robin and I are fine with leaving the living room to you both.” Anne sounded surprised. 

“Nonsense, we'd love to have a cuppa with you both.”, Louis quickly supported Harry’s request. 

“Oh, alright. Those are done now anyway, we can have them with the tea.”, Anne declared cheerily.

“Great.”, Harry nodded, suddenly wishing he didn’t eat that biscuit, because his nervousness made his stomach clench painfully. 

Once everyone was settled on the couch, Harry knew it was time, but how the fuck should he start?

“’s Gemma still out?”, Robin asked, looking around the room, like she might be hiding behind the pot plant in the corner. 

“Her last walk took 5 hours, so I guess so. Didn’t hear her come back yet.”, Anne shrugged. 

Harry found it so unfair that it was perfectly fine for his sister to disappear for 5 hours, without anyone knowing her whereabouts, but if Harry went to the store without telling his mum, they blew up his phone.  

He rubbed his sweaty palms over his thighs, hyping himself up. Now or never.

“Uhm, actually, I need to speak to you both.” There was a light tremor in his voice, depicting how nervous he was.

“Oh? What is it, baby?”, Anne asked, putting her cup down to give Harry her full attention.

He nervously fidgeted with his fingers, before Louis put a calming hand on top, making him look down into his lap. Slowly, he intertwined his left hand with Louis' right, happy that this man always knew how to calm him down. 

“Harry, if it’s about you being gay, you don’t have to be nervous. It’s okay, baby.”, Anne smiled, her eyes full of love and warmth. Robin nodded along happily. 

That made Harry’s jaw drop and stay open for about ten seconds. His parents thought this was his attempt of coming out. Which was... wow.

“Uhm... I don’t know if I’m gay. I mean... I like Louis, yes. But it doesn’t mean I'm exclusively gay.”, he slowly announced. 

“Okay, that’s also alright with us. You don’t have to put a label on it, if you don’t want to.”, Robin said in a comforting manner. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t know. Uhm, but that’s not even the thing I wanted to talk about.” 

“What is it then?”, Anne asked surprised, her eyebrows telling how confused she was. Like this was the only thing she could think of, that Harry might want to talk about.

“Uhm... it’s... I thought a lot about it and I, uhm, came to the conclusion that it, uh, might be best if I move out.” There, he said it. 

There was a deafening silence, where Anne and Robin just stared at him, their faces blank. The ticking clock on the wall seemed to count the seconds until the verdict. It slowly, but surely, drove Harry mad. 

Why weren’t they saying anything? 

It was Robin, who shook his head first, like he was shaking off a fly. “I'm sorry, Harry, what?”, he enunciated the last word sharply, like he wanted to make very clear that he wanted Harry to elaborate. 

“Uhm... I want to move out...” His voice trailed off when he laid eyes on his mother. The look of utter betrayal on her face, made him hesitate. He knew it would be hard, but now that he was confronted with the actual reality of it, he questioned if he was doing the right thing. 

Louis gave his hand a tiny squeeze, as if to assure him that he was still there. That gave him the courage to try again. “I think it might be a good idea if I moved out.” 

Slowly, his mother’s expression turned. Where it was simply hurt in the beginning, he could see how her eyes turned colder and her mouth became a very thin line. “Absolutely not, Harry.”, she said, her voice clearly showing that she was angry now. 

“Maybe we should listen to Harry’s reasons first.”, Louis interposed calmly.

Anne now turned her icy gaze to the doctor. “Please, stay out of this.” 

It made Louis bow his head for a second, where he looked extremely uncomfortable. Harry didn’t like that. She shouldn’t speak to him like this. 

“But Louis's right. You should listen to me first.”, Harry said as sternly as he could. 

His mother looked like she was about to get out of her seat. “No, Harry. I don’t. It’s not up for debate. You are in no condition to move out. So it’s a no. End of discussion.” With that she did get up and it seemed like she wanted to leave the room.

“End of discussion?”, Harry echoed in disbelief. “Mum, stop!” 

And stop she did. Halfway through the room, she turned on her heels, hands on her hips and her eyes flashing with anger. “Yes, end of discussion, Harry! I don’t know who put that nonsense into your head, but it’s out of the question that you move out!” 

Now Harry got up as well. The downside was, that he now lost the support of Louis’ calming hand, but he just needed to be on her eyelevel, to make him feel like he had some kind of control over the situation. “Why is it out of the question? Because you think I'm not capable of doing it?” 

Anne took a step towards him again. “I know you are not!”, she erupted, making Harry flinch slightly. He still couldn’t handle it very well when someone raised their voice at him. Also, what she said stung like hell. 

“In case you forgot, mum, I was on my own for four years! I know how to take care of myself!” 

“Harry.”, Robin started to say from his place on the couch, when they all saw how Anne's face turned very, very pale. But he didn’t have the chance to speak any further, because his wife beat him to it. 

“Take care of yourself? You swallowed drugs like they were smarties! You just relapsed in November and now you stand here and say you want to move out?” 

The thing was, Harry kind of knew that she was spitting facts, but he was too hurt to acknowledge it. “And why was that, mum? Because I didn’t know what to do anymore! You all treat me like an imbecile and I can’t get better, if you don’t give me the chance! I know you wanted your son back and got me instead and I'm sorry to disappoint, but I can’t change!” By now, tears of anger were flowing down his blotchy red cheeks. “I won’t ever be the person again that left here 5 years ago! I'm not sixteen anymore and you have to accept that!” 

Anne shook her head violently. “No! You are still the person who left here 5 years ago! That Harry is still in there! He just needs some time to come to the surface again. You are still my Harry.” The last part came put more like a whimper and Anne covered her face with her hands, to hide that she began to cry as well. 

Harry stared at her, gobsmacked. Was that really what she was thinking? That his current self was just an alter ego and that her innocent sixteen year old son was still somewhere inside of him? 

“Am I so terrible that you wish I wasn't real?”, he asked quietly, his voice thick with his tears. 

Anne let her hands fall of her face and looked him straight in the eyes, her eyes full of hurt. “I love you, Harry. I do. But I know this isn’t the real you. You buried your real self under a pile of drugs and god knows what. My Harry is still in there and I will wait for him to resurface.” 

Those words hurt so much. His mother loathed him so much, that she was telling herself that she just needed to wait it out and somehow, magically, her sixteen year old son would reappear, replacing the Harry she couldn’t stand. 

Instead of answering, he clenched his jaw together, to stop the tears that were dripping down his face, like his eyes were a leaky faucet and turned to storm out of the room. He smashed the door behind him and ran up the stairs to his room, where he banged his door shut, before he gave it a kick with his foot. All it did was hurt like crazy, because he was only wearing socks. Now he wasn’t only emotionally hurt but also physically. 

“Fuck!”, he cursed, slamming his flat hand against the wall instead and stood on his other foot for a moment. 

He breathed heavily, unsure what to do now. There was so much anger inside of him. So much emotions in general. 

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!”, she screamed out, hoping that it would somehow relieve some of the pressure in his chest. All it did was make his throat hurt in addition to his foot. 

“Fuck!”, he sobbed, looking at his ceiling, like he was asking some deity for guidance or at least answers. 

Slowly, he let himself glide down the wall until he was sitting on the floor next to his door, crying like a child. 

This wasn’t like it was supposed to go! He expected a discussion, maybe some yelling but not this. Not this total rejection of his self. He wasn’t good enough. His own mother just told him so. He was just the defective version of Harry. The real Harry was just buried somewhere inside of him. What Anne didn’t understand was that the old Harry wasn’t buried somewhere. He died. He died everyday over the years in that godforsaken house, until he was gone. Simon and every other man who laid a hand on Harry, did that. They took a piece of him, every time they hurt him, until nothing was left. The version he was now, was what came out on the other side. Damaged, chipped on the edges and not good enough.

He buried his face in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably by now. He barely heard the quiet knock on the door, but it was there because a second later, it opened to reveal Louis. The man only looked down at Harry for a second, his eyes full of sympathy, before he kneeled and pulled him into a hug. Harry ended up sideways in Louis lap, wailing into his shoulder. 

“Shhhhh.”, Louis hushed him. “Shhhhh, it’s alright babe. Let it all out.” 

And Harry did. He cried himself into a stupor, which left him hiccupping but silent in Louis’ arms. He felt hot and sticky, but he wouldn’t leave the security of those gentle arms! Never in a million years. 

Louis slowly rocked him from side to side, caressing the back of the boy’s head with his delicate fingers. 

“When you’re ready, we should go back downstairs, love.” 

What?

Harry shook his head no. Absolutely not. 

“Your mum is beside herself. She wanted to come up here herself, but Robin and I convinced her that you needed a minute.”

“Sh-Sh-She hates m-m-me!”, Harry stammered, still impaired by the aftermath of his sobbing. 

“Oh no, darling, she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t hate you. She loves you with all her heart.” 

“No.” Harry pushed his face further into Louis’ neck. “She loves the past-me.” 

“No, she loves you. There's no distinction to be made.” 

“But for her there is a difference! Didn’t you listen to her?” 

“Babe, I think there were some things said, in the heat of the moment, that simply came out wrong. I think your mum's very sorry and wants to talk to you.” 

Harry was sure that was utter bullshit, but Louis never lied to him until now. Why should he say this, if he didn’t believe in those words? Trusting in Louis never failed him until now. 

“Okay. In a minute, we can go downstairs.”, he said in a small voice, rubbing his face into Louis' neck like a cat, who sought after the comfort and love of its owner. 

“And if you need two minutes, we'll go down in two.”, he said gently, squeezing Harry a bit tighter to him. 

“Okay.”

Harry ended up needing 10 minutes to feel calm enough to let Louis help him up off the floor. He stood there on shaky legs, looking at Louis with big eyes. “And now?” 

“Now we go down there and you both talk to each other. I'm sure it will all turn out alright. And if not, I'm still here for you.” The little encouraging smile on the older man's face was what made Harry nod in agreement. 

“Stay with me, yeah?” 

“I will, babe, but this is really something you should resolve together with your mum. I'll be there if you need me.” 

Harry’s heart grew a few sizes with appreciation for Louis. 

“Okay. Let’s go then.” 

He made a pit stop in the bathroom, to blow his nose with some toilet paper, before descending the stairs together with Louis. 

When he entered the living room, the scene was unexpected. But then again, what did Harry expect? His mother sat closely next to Robin, crying into a tissue, while he had his arm around her shoulder and his chin on her head. But as soon as he stepped inside, she made all the required moves to get up, but somehow failed with Robin holding her in her seat. 

“Let him come to you, yeah?”, he said quietly and Harry appreciated it. Right now, he didn’t feel like hugging it out with her. 

Anne then looked at Harry pleadingly. Slowly, he walked towards the couch and sat down on the other half, Louis plopping down next to him.

“I'm so sorry, baby. I don’t know what came over me.”, she said and was instantly overcome by another round of tears. Seeing his mother like that, made his own eyes prick, but he remained steadfast and waited if she would say anything else. 

She did. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the fresh tears on her cheeks, before she began to speak. “Harry, I love you. I know what I said earlier may make it seem like I only love a certain version of you, but that’s not true. I love you. I love you just like you are. Please believe me. I said those things because... I just got you back. I can’t imagine letting you go again already.” 

He stared at his mum intently, trying to gauge if she was telling the truth, but there was nothing but sincerity in her eyes. His lower lip began to wobble and then he flung himself at her for a much needed hug. Her warm embrace was incomparable. 

“I love you.”, she cried into his hair and Harry nodded.

“I love you too, mum.”, he sniffed.

For a while, they just sat there and hugged. It kind of felt like they were patching up their somewhat marred bond.

It was Harry, who took a deep breath and loosened their embrace, before he got up and returned to his place next to Louis. It kind of felt like they should talk now and he felt more comfortable doing it with a bit of distance. It felt more serious, more mature, like this. 

“Can we talk now?”, he asked and Anne nodded, cleaning her face once again. 

“Yes. Yes, we can.”

“Alright. Because I do want to move out, mum. It feels like the right thing to do.”

“But why, baby?” 

He gave he a lopsided half-smile. “Just because of that. For you, I'm your baby and I fear you’ll never see me as a grown-up person, until you see that I'm capable of doing it all on my own.” 

“But you don’t have to do it on your own.”, she said, desperation clear in her voice. 

“That’s the thing. I want to. And I feel I kind of need to, to get better. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t mean that I don’t like being here with you all. It’s all I ever wanted for four years. But right now, I don’t see how I can get better here.” 

“Why not?” Again, his mothers eyes were bright with unshed tears. 

“I told you, mum. You, all of you, treat me like I'm about to break at any second. Like I'm a toddler with a medical condition. We already talked about it and nothing really changed, because I don’t change while I'm here.” 

“And you think leaving us will help?”, she sniffed and Robin silently offered her another kleenex, from a box that lay next to him on the couch. 

“Don’t think of it as me leaving you. I'm simply moving on. And out, I guess. It doesn’t mean that I'm gone and you won’t ever see me again. That’s not how moving out works. Young people do it all the time. I'm 21. It’s kind of overdue.” 

“Gemma is 24 and doesn’t want to move out yet.” 

“Yes, but Gemma is able to go on five hour walks without someone bothering her. She was kind of grown-up and about to move out when all of it happened. You see her differently.”, he explained calmly, trying to keep all of the blame out of his tone. 

That made his mum pause for a moment, until she finally let her shoulders drop in defeat. “I see were you’re coming from. Let’s go on this hypothetical journey then. If you moved out and I'm not saying you can, but if you moved out, where would you even go?” 

Harry refrained from telling her that she couldn’t forbid him to move out, because he was of age after all. Instead, he decided to answer all her questions as calmly as possible. 

“Louis offered me a room in his flat.” 

And if Harry was honest, he kind of knew, that this information wouldn’t be received well. 

“What? London? No.” Anne shook her head so quickly, her features blurred before Harry’s eyes. “Out of the question. You're not going back to that city!” 

“Hey, we want to have a proper conversation, right dear? Deep breath. Let’s have a listen to what Harry has to say first.”, Robin intercepted, before his wife could mess it all up again. 

She looked at him with her lips pressed together, like she wanted to say something to him, but then she did what he said and took a deep breath, turning back to Harry again.

“I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of you going back to London.” The strain in her voice was obvious, like she was fighting very hard to stay calm. 

“I understand that.”, Harry nodded. “But London isn’t different to any other bigger city. And Louis offered me the room for free, so that’s a big plus, from where I’m seeing it.” 

Now Anne fixed Louis with her gaze, kind of staring him down. “Did you tell him he should move out?” 

Immediately, Harry was ready to defend Louis, his mouth already open, but a soft tap against his thigh made him stop. 

“No, I didn’t. He told me on his birthday and I was just as surprised as you are. But Harry is 21 years old and he has the right to make his own decisions. I thought a lot about it and I would lie, if I said that I don’t have any concerns myself.” Here Harry looked at Louis with eyebrows so low, they made it hard for him to see clearly. The doctor gave him a short smile and a comforting squeeze of his hand. “But it remains a fact that Harry wants to move out and has every right to do it, so I thought it would be best to offer him a place to live. Like that he wouldn’t be completely on his own, but with someone he knew and trusted. It made sense to me.” 

“Fair enough.”, Robin nodded and Anne gave him an outraged look.

“What? The boy is right. Harry is of age and entitled to move out. I don’t like it, but we can’t lock him up in his room, can we? Like this, we could be sure at least, that someone watched over him.” 

“But... But what about his therapy? He needs to go to his therapy! If he lives in London, he can hardly come up here twice a week to visit Doctor Bennett.” His mum looked desperate and it was obvious, that even she knew that she was grasping at straws.

“There are therapists in London, mum.” 

“But it’s so hard to find a place! They are all at capacity, it even says so online!” 

“Uhm, actually, I have good news in regards to that.”, Louis piped up, which even took Harry by surprise. 

“Huh?”, the boy made.

Louis smiled. “I told you about Niall,  didn’t I?” 

Harry nodded.

“Well, his mother is a very good therapist and I made him ask her, if she had a place for you. He called me yesterday to tell me the good news.” He turned to Anne. “So that would be taken care of as well. I know Maura. She is very nice and she has an impeccable reputation amongst her peers.” 

It left Anne with an open mouth. After a long moment, she sighed in defeat. “I guess you two have it all figured out, hm?”

“No.”, Harry said and shrugged his shoulders. “But I guess we’ll be alright.” 

Anne dabbed her cheeks with the crumpled-up kleenex in her hand and finally she nodded. “Alright. But you have to call me everyday.” 

It felt like the tension in Harry’s chest finally snapped. That was it. His mother was okay with it. Slowly, a smile crept into his face. Yes, they'd be alright. 

Chapter Text

3 weeks later

“That’s the last box.”, Liam announced, putting said box onto the small pile next to the open door to Louis’ former office, which would be Harry’s room from now on. It was still before midday, because Harry, Robin and Anne had left Holmes Chapel very early in the morning in a rented transporter, which contained all of his belongings and newly bought basic furnishing. Harry and Gemma had said good-bye tearfully and she would have loved to tag along, but the transporter only had 3 seats in the front, so she had to stay behind.

Louis had asked Liam for help and as it was a Saturday, he was free to come. They all managed it by now to bring the entire content of the transporter up into Louis' flat and they had to assemble a bed, a wardrobe, a nightstand and a dresser now.

“Great! Who wants a coffee now?”, Louis asked, passing his friend and patted his shoulder in thanks.

“Coffee sounds heavenly.”, Robin smiled and everyone gathered around the kitchen island, to wait for their cup.

“Milk's in the fridge, could you get it, love?”, Louis asked, as he put five cups onto the countertop.

It suddenly occurred to Harry, that he was no longer a guest now. As of this day, he was also a resident of this flat. That meant he should play host now as well.

“Oh, yes, sure.”, he nodded and hurried over to the fridge to get the milk out. When he turned back around, he could see that his mother was watching him with a curious expression. He lifted his eyebrows in question and she only shook her head with a small smile, so he shrugged and let it go.

Louis passed him a full cup of steaming coffee. “Thank you.”

“Your welcome, love.”

“So, what’s the plan now?”, Liam asked, holding his cup in both hands.

“It makes sense to put up the wardrobe first, it takes the most room to do it.”, Robin said and Harry agreed.

“Alright, then we do that one first.”, Liam nodded. It amazed Harry to no end, how Liam treated Harry completely normal. He somehow expected it to be strange to see him again. The last time they saw each other, was the day Liam rescued him from the punter in the alley. It should be totally awkward to see the man again, who witnessed how Harry was fucked brutally from behind. But Liam waited with Louis downstairs, when they arrived this morning and he offered Harry a warm handshake and a little pat on the shoulder, like they were old friends. When Harry nervously averted his eyes, Liam simply said: “Good to see you again, mate.” And that was that. Either Liam was extremely good to cover up that he judged Harry for his past, or he simply didn’t judge. Harry hoped it was the latter.

After they all had their coffee, Robin and Liam went to Harry’s new room, to start on the wardrobe, while Harry Louis and Anne stayed in the living room to start on the dresser. Well, Anne supervised, reading the instructions out loud and pointing at the parts she meant.

There was one moment, where Louis' and Harry’s eyes met, while Louis was using the screwdriver, that made Harry pause. The doctor’s eyes crinkled with the grin he gave Harry, when he saw how the boy was staring at him. It was somehow totally unbelievable to Harry that he now got to see Louis every day. To live with him. They were roommates now. Or maybe even something more than roommates. Roommates who liked each other.

“Harry.”, Louis said, waving his hand with the screwdriver in the air, his grin even wider now.

“Huh?”

“I need the next screw.”, he chuckled.

Oh. Harry blushed heavily and tried to gloss over his embarrassment with turning and looking for the bag of screws. Where was it?

“It’s in your hand, love.” The older man sounded like he fought very hard to keep from laughing. The person who did laugh, was his mum.

He turned on his knees, looking up at her in betrayal, while she snorted into her hand, that covered her mouth.

“Muuuuuum.”, he whined, feeling how his face got even hotter now.

“Sorry.”, she giggled, taking several breaths to keep from laughing again.

Harry slowly turned back to Louis, pulling his eyebrows into a frown. “Stop laughing, that’s mean.”, he pouted.

That made Lou pucker his lips, which seemed to be the only way, that made it possible for him to stop.

Harry looked down, locating the right screw in the bag and got it out to hold it up for Louis.

“Cheers, darling.”, he winked and resumed grinning, when he looked down to see what he was doing. It was very easy to forgive Louis when he looked like this. His hair was a bit messy today and not styled up into his usual quiff, which made him look a lot softer. That in addition with his  staggering smile, made Harry swoon a tiny bit. But he kept it together and handed the next screw over without needing to be asked.

It took them all a good while to put everything together, but some time around 2 pm, after several coffee breaks, the furniture stood in its place and Anne took over the lead.

She made Liam stand on a ladder to put up new curtains, which Harry liked very much because of their lovely teak colour. Harry was unpacking his clothes boxes together with Louis. The latter pulled item after item from the box, acting like he was doing a magic trick every time, including the matching sound effect, before he handed it over to Harry, who put it away with a small giggle.

When everything was put away, Harry’s bed had fresh linen on it and his knick-knack, like a few family portraits, was put in its place, the room looked very nice in Harry’s opinion. It also didn’t look like child’s room, but like the room of an adult, with a colour scheme and throw pillows on his bed.

Everyone was in the living room now, except for Harry. It was agreed upon to order pizza now, because everyone was fucking starving and there was a lively chatter behind the boy, as everyone was giving up their orders.

But Harry took this moment for himself to look at the room he would spent the night in. Or live in more like. It kind of filled his chest with a proud feeling to look at it. He had a plan, communicated it and in the end, he had his way, because he persisted on it. It felt like taking control of his own life wasn’t so far-fetched anymore.

“Harry? What pizza do you want, love?”, Louis called from the living room.

He finally ripped his eyes away from his new curtains and turned to go and join the others. “Do they have one with veggies? Like mushrooms and stuff?”

Louis looked at his phone and scrolled a few seconds. “There is one called ‘Healthy Heaven’ and it has aubergines, courgettes, mushrooms, peppers, spinach and onions on it. And there is also an option to put feta cheese on it.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. And yes to the cheese, please.”

“Alright, then the order is... out. It says it will take an hour to arrive, but I ordered there a hundred times, they're normally faster than that.”

“I hope so, because it feels like my stomach is eating itself.”, Liam groaned, as he laid back on the couch to rub his flat tummy.

“That can’t happen because you have a protective layer of mucus in your stomach and as long as it’s in good order, your stomach won’t digest itself.”, Louis explained absently while he typed something on his phone.

“But it still sometimes feels like it.”, Harry defended Liam’s statement, thinking of all the times he had a bad stomach ache, because he was so incredibly hungry.

Louis looked up at him and his face first fell a bit, apparently remembering that Harry knew the feeling of starvation very well, and then it turned soft. “It sure does...”

“Thinking of mucus somehow cured me. No longer hungry. Thanks, mate.”, Liam declared and everyone laughed.

It did take the deliveryman an hour to ring the bell. Robin insisted on paying, so he waited by the door, while Louis walked over to his fridge.

“Who wants a beer with his pizza?”

Harry could practically see how his mum heard the screeching tyres of an accident, as her eyes turned wide. She looked quickly over to her son, saw that he already looked at her and averted her face just as quickly. He knew that she wanted to say something.

“Yeah, cheers mate.”, Liam nodded and Louis came over to hand him a bottle.

“Sorry, it’s alcohol-free, but I tested a few brands and this one tastes alright in my opinion.”, the doctor explained, looking over to Harry with a wink.

Firstly, the wink made Harry swoon again, but the fact that Louis bought non-alcoholic beer, even tested a few ones to find a good one, made his chest practically burst. That was so fucking considerate of him. He'd been totally prepared to be in an environment that had some risk factors like alcohol in it. He even talked about it for an entire session with Doctor Bennett. But Louis was apparently willing to cut out alcohol for the time being, just for Harry.

“Do you or Robin want one as well? I also have fizzy drinks or a nice non-alcoholic rosé.”, Louis asked in direction of Harry’s mum, who looked a bit flabbergasted.

“Let me help you get the drinks.”, she said instead of answering and followed Louis to the fridge, where she put a hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him, which made him shrug with a smile. Anne also smiled at him, whispered something else, before pointing at the fridge.

That was the moment Robin returned from the hallway with a stack of pizza boxes.

“Thank god.”, Liam mumbled.

Harry ended up on the floor next to his mum, his pizza on the table in front of him and a large glass of coke beside it.

“Bon appétit!”, Louis said, already cutting into his own pizza, which apparently had a very thick layer of ham and pepperoni on it.

They all answered in the same manner and tucked in.

It was Liam who left first, after receiving a call from his wife, telling him that their son was asking for daddy non-stop and she was fed-up.

Then, around six o'clock, it was time for Anne and Robin to leave, as they still had to make their way back to Holmes Chapel. The constant frown on Anne's face made it obvious that she didn’t want to say goodbye yet. Or ever.

“You’re welcome to stay the night if you want to. You can have my bed, it’s no bother at all.”, Louis offered after Anne sighed once again, while looking longingly at her son.

“Oh, no, we can’t, we have to give the transporter back first thing in the morning. But thank you, dear.”, she declined, standing up slowly from her seat. Robin copied her movement, showing that they were ready to leave now.

“Baby? Can I speak to you for a second?”

“Sure.”, Harry agreed easily and walked over to his new room, to have a bit of privacy. Once inside, he closed the door behind them and waited for his mum to speak.

Instead, she just looked at him for the duration of at least twenty seconds.

“Ma?”, he asked gently, knowing that she was fighting against tears.

She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head quietly.

“Mum.”, he sighed, closed the distance between them and pulled her to his chest. “I will call you everyday, I promise.”

There was a sniff, a bit muffled by Harry’s jumper, but it was quite obvious that Anne was crying now.

“Don’t you dare not to, Harry Edward Styles.”, she muttered into his shoulder.

“I will, I promise.”

“And promise me to be good. Go to all your therapy sessions and stay away from the dodgy parts of town. Don’t get into trouble and make sure to stay-“

“I will do my best, mum. I promise to do my very best. Is that okay?”, he interrupted her.

She lifted her head off his shoulder, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “It has to be. I can’t stand to lose you again. Don’t make me, alright?”

“You won’t lose me, mum.”

“But it feels like it, I'm sorry.”, she wept, fresh hot tears dripping down her cheeks.

“This is all part of your children growing up, isn’t it?”, he asked with a lopsided grin, feeling his throat close up, because he couldn’t bear to see his mother cry because of him.

It made her push out a small snort, even though she was crying. “Yes.”, she agreed, wiping her face with her hand. “I know I have to let you go, but it’s hard. You’re my baby. It feels like it was yesterday that I brought you home from the hospital after giving birth. You're... You’re my baby.”

Harry hugged her tighter now, fighting back his own tears, but he was losing very quickly. “I love you, mum. Thank you for giving me this chance.”

His mothers grip got stronger as well, like she was prepared to hold on for as long as she could. “I love you, too. I'm so proud of you. So proud. You will go your own way. You'll be fine without me. But maybe don’t forget me in the long run, yeah?”

“I couldn’t ever forget you. Never.”

“Good.”, she sniffed and with a last squeeze, that made it hard to breathe for a second, she let go and took a step back. She then put on a fake stern face and pointed at Harry. “And keep your room clean, young man.”

The boy chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I will.”

When the door closed behind his mum and step-dad, it was just Louis and him. He felt excited about this before, but now... it was only the two of them. They had been alone together in this flat plenty of times before, but it was different now. Harry was here to stay.

“Hey, flatmate.”, it came from behind his back and made him turn away from the door. Louis waited in the door frame to the living room, smiling softly.

“Hey, flatmate.”, Harry smiled back, feeling butterflies form a tiny tornado inside his tummy.

“Do you know how to play chess?”

The question took Harry by surprise and he laughed, while shaking his head. “No. My grandpa tried to teach me once and failed miserably.”

“How old have you been then?”

“Uh, I dunno. Seven-ish, I think?”

“Then you deserve another chance, come on.”, Louis grinned.

Harry followed him back to the living room curiously and watched him retrieve a chess set from the black highboard near Louis’ bedroom door.

“This is where we keep our games, by the way.”, Louis commented, as he stood up from the floor again and walked back over to the sofa. “I don’t know if you brought any, but you can put yours in there as well.”

For some reason, this made Harry cry. It must look comical from Louis point of view, how he listened with a neutral expression one second and then started bawling without warning.

“Oh, shit. Sorry- shit, did I do something wrong? What did I say?”

Louis hurriedly put down the chess game and came to a halt in front of the crying boy.

“You said our games.”, Harry got out between two sniffs.

“Oh... And that made you... emotional?”, Louis guessed, cluelessness written all over his face.

“Yes, sorry.” Harry wiped his face, feeling annoyed that he didn’t have his feelings under control. “I nearly cried when mum said goodbye and I guess this was just the straw to break the camels back.”

“Oh, I see. Want a hug, babe?”

Harry quickly nodded, relieved that Louis finally asked.

“Come here, then.”, Louis smiled and opened up his arms. Harry fell into them gratefully, pressing his face into Louis’ neck to breathe in his scent, that was almost familiar by now.

“Kcchhhrchh.”, the doctor made when Harry let out a long sigh afterwards, at the place just below his ear. Harry jerked his head up in surprise. But there was a hand on the back of his head half a second later to guide it back to its former position.

“Sorry, that just tickled like hell.”, Lou confessed sheepishly and it almost made Harry grin.

“I'm sorry.”, he whispered, making sure to get as much airflow onto Louis’ sensitive neck as possible.

“And you’re back to being a little shit, good to know.”, the older one laughed, squeezing Harry’s torso tightly.

Harry just smiled, the last of his tears drying up now, so he could simply revel in the feeling of being held like this.

“Alright.”, he mumbled after some time. “Teach me chess then.”

And Louis did, with an enthusiasm that was without equal. It took a while for Harry to get the hang of it and more often than not, he had to ask what the chess piece,  he wanted to move, could do. Also, Louis pointed out very often when Harry missed something, basically playing against himself, which made Harry laugh with glee a lot.

When it was around 9 pm, Louis suggested they had something for dinner and Harry eagerly offered to help in the kitchen.

“I brought my chef knife with me!”, he proclaimed excitedly and hurried off to his room, to get to the few boxes that contained the stuff he didn’t have a place for yet. He got out his knife and the cutting board he got for his birthday and brought it back to the kitchen area, where Louis was putting the kettle on.

“Uhm, maybe we can use it?”, he asked quietly, suddenly feeling shy and out of place again. Those moods of his would someday drive him mad.

Louis gave him a smile and a nod. “Sure, love. I mean, you know I'm not a great cook, right? But maybe I can be your sous-chef, huh? I stocked up the fridge with some stuff yesterday, so I'm sure we can whip something up.”

“Oh, that’s great.” He needed to suggest that he did the grocery shopping from now on, because he already lived here for free, that was the least he could do. He had a bank account now, a good portion of the money he received after the trial as compensation, in it. That money was at his own disposal for groceries and stuff he might need. Robin had insisted that he put the other two thirds of the money away and Harry didn’t argue. It was comforting to know that he had some money for the future. It wasn’t like he was a millionaire now and some time, when Harry was in a better mental state, he would totally look for a job. But for now, he was alright with the money he had and he wanted to use it for stuff that Louis also benefited from. Hence, he would suggest, in a fitting moment, that he would take care of the groceries from now on.

With that plan in mind, he opened the fridge and found that Louis didn’t lie. Harry didn’t even took notice of that earlier in the day, when he got the milk out of the fridge door. In the bottom, both crispers where filled with vegetables and fruits and above that, there were packs of chicken breast and turkey mince. There were also lettuce hearts next to them with a few dressings. The middle compartment was apparently were Lou kept his things related to breakfast, like ham, bacon, eggs and a sizable collection of spreads. At the top was a whole array of non-alcoholic and fizzy drinks.

“Well, we can survive on that for the next two weeks.”, Harry joked, unsure how to express his gratitude, because he was surer than sure that Louis bought a lot of the stuff just for him. All those veggies definitively weren’t usually on the doctor’s meal plan and the turkey mince? Jesus, Louis really did go the extra mile there.

“Well, I wanted you to have everything you needed.” And now it wasn’t Harry who sounded a bit unsure of himself.

Harry closed the fridge door and turned to the wonderful man next to him, taking in how he stood there, with his hands behind his back, looking bashful and too cute for his own good.

“If I was normal, I'd kiss you right now.”, Harry whispered and Lou's eyes widened and sparkled with something like excitement.

“Then I consider myself kissed.”, the doctor stated, his cheeks getting a lovely rosy tint, that was no match for Harry’s burning face.

The boy bit his lower lip, considering his options, before pushing his feet a few centimetres forwards, which left them chest to chest.

“Babe...”, Louis  gasped, but Harry shook his head slightly, telling him to shut up for the moment. He needed to concentrate.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins and made his pulse rise, which quickened his breathing.

Focus.

Harry bowed his head a bit, feeling how his lips began to tingle. He lifted his right hand, noticing how it shook, and laid it on the crook between Louis’ shoulder and neck. There he could feel the flutter of a pulse, almost as fast as his own.

Green eyes met blue ones and Harry could get lost in them. He could dive into those mesmerizing shades of heaven and never return to reality. But he was in a mission.

He took a few shaky breaths through his nose, feeling how those shakes slowly spread through his whole body. He had to do it now, before he freaked out completely.

Grit your teeth and get to it!

He pressed his eyes closed, leaned in and his lips would have collided with Louis', if Lou didn’t take as step back in the last second.

Harry’s hand fell from his shoulder and he blinked his eyes open, trembling like a leaf.

Louis was still there, just out if reach. But... why?

“Babe...”, he said again, but now it sounded a bit sad. “We shouldn't rush our fences.”

Harry was so confused. It didn’t help at all that his nervous system was about to have a break down, because he pushed himself so hard.

“I know I said you could try everything you wanted with me, whenever you wanted, but... it was really obvious that you weren’t comfortable just now.”, Louis started to explain, looking like he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing. “I...” A sigh and then Louis widened his stance a bit, which gave him the air of someone more confident. “I don’t want you to push yourself, just because you think it’s time or something. Don’t get me wrong, I'd love to kiss you, really, but I think it’s not the right time.”

“No?”, was all Harry could croak out, having a hard time to keep the trembling under control.

Louis shook his head with a little sad smile. “No.”

And now Harry didn’t know what to do. He needed someone to talk him through his impending anxiety slash panic attack. But his mum wasn’t here. Neither was Robin, or his dad, or Gemma. All of them would have sat him down by now, telling him to breathe and count or something.

But Louis was a doctor after all and he too was able to make out the signs of an oncoming panic attack and this wasn’t the first breakdown Hsrry had in his presence.

“Alright, let’s sit down for a moment.”, he decided, reaching out to take Harry’s arm to guide him back to the sofa.

“Do you want me to count, love?”

Harry affirmed this with a jerky nod.

“Okay.”  Louis' voice was calm and quiet and then he began to count for Harry, guiding him through his attack, like it was all he ever did.

Harry grasped for his hand when the worst was over, pulling it into his lap.

“One, two, three, four, five...”

He concentrated on the fingers in his hand, each one delicate and individual.

“One, two, three...”

There was a tiny scar at the side of his middle finger, pale and almost unnoticeable, but it was there. Harry had a similar one on the side of his right thumb, only that his own one was red and ugly. It had been pretty deep... No, think of something else.

Louis' hand. He grasped it a bit tighter, before he lifted it up to his lips.

“One, two, three, f-four-“ Louis’ counting came to a sudden halt when the boy’s lips met the back of his hand.

“Thank you.”, Harry mumbled into his skin, before slowly putting his hand down again. Suddenly, Louis hand turned and grasped Harry’s instead, pulling it over to reciprocate the gesture. Harry watched how Louis bowed his head over their intertwined hands and how his lips pressed to his skin. They were warm and so soft and Harry wished so badly that he would be able to feel them on his own lips soon.

They remained on the sofa for another five minutes, before they got up to finally cook something.

Harry convinced Louis that a salad with chicken breast was the perfect dish before going to bed. The doctor agreed, albeit grudgingly.

Louis brought the pillbox Anne had placed on the kitchen counter earlier today, over with him to the table, when they were ready to eat.

“Here, don’t forget those. Your mum would kill me, if we messed that up right away.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but obediently popped the Saturday compartment open and drained the contents into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

“There.”, he said, making a show of opening his mouth and showing Louis that his mouth was empty.

“Good.”, the short-haired man nodded with a smile, completely unbothered by Harry’s antics.

When they were done eating, it was past 10:30 and Louis began to look a bit tired.

“You've got the early shift tomorrow, right?”, Harry asked.

“Yup. I tried to change it around, so I could be here in the morning when you wake up, but it wasn’t possible. Or more like, Andrea didn’t want to do the early shift for me.”

“I'll be fine. I just unpack the rest of my stuff.”, Harry shrugged. “Uhm, you should go to bed soon then, right?”

The older man laughed. “I'm fine, babe. But yeah, some time soon.”

“Okay. Uhm, how about you get ready for bed and I'll clean up?”

Louis rolled his eyes and shook his head, as he stood up and picked up his plate and the salad bowl.

“No, Harry, we'll do it together, then we could have a cuddle if you want and then I'll go to bed. How does that sound?”

Harry turned in his seat at the dinner table, to look after Louis with a smile. “That sounds perfect.”

“Great, then come on, bring me that plate. The sooner we’re done here, the sooner we get to the cuddling part.”

In excited anticipation, Harry did what Louis said and between the two of them, the kitchen was spotless in a matter of minutes.

“Ah, great.”, grinned Louis as he let himself fall onto the couch, holding his arms open for Harry.

More than willing, Harry sat down and let himself fall into said arms, leaning his head against Louis chest.

“I can hear your heartbeat.”, he said after a while and the chest he was lying on started to vibrate with laughter.

“And what does it say?”

“Oh, uh...” Harry adjusted his ear to have a closer listen. “I think it’s saying thank you.”

“Oh? Thank you? For what?”

“For eating your greens.”, he deadpanned, suppressing his giggle.

“Little shit.”, Louis laughed, giving him an affectionate squeeze.

Pleased with himself, Harry rubbed his face into Lou's chest, a sly grin on his lips.

“Tired.”, he admitted after a while.

“Then let's brush our teeth and go to bed.”

Harry nodded, but took his dear time with getting off of Louis' chest. Preferably, he would just close his eyes right here. Last time it did wonders for his sleep, but he couldn’t condemn Louis to sleep on the couch, stuck in one position the whole night. Hence, he got up and they went to the bathroom together, were Harry’s stuff stood on the counter, waiting to be put away.

“Here, I cleared out half of the cabinet for you. You can put your stuff in there tomorrow.”

“Oh, thanks Lou.”, he smiled, searching for his toothbrush in his vanity bag. He pulled it out with a loud “Ahaaa!” and held it in the air like a sword.

“Oh, are we fighting?”, Louis asked in surprise, immediately grasping his own toothbrush from the cabinet and proceeded to jump into a fencing stance.

Harry giggled, loud and unabashedly, and continued to do so for the whole three minutes they took to brush their teeth side by side. Every time he had himself back under control, one look into the mirror was enough to make him double over again. Louis made a point of rolling his eyes like a madman, letting the foam of the toothpaste run down his whole chin and made gurgling noises, whenever Harry looked over at him.

It was kind of adorable, how Louis was ready to make a complete fool of himself, just to make Harry giggle again. More than adorable. It was loveable.

They said goodnight  after leaving the bathroom, Louis checking for the third time now, that Harry had everything he needed.

“Lou, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”, smiled Harry, but then he remembered he had to prepare Louis for what he might hear tonight. “Uhm, about tonight. Uhm, I might have a nightmare. I normally have them. Uhm, if I scream or something, don’t freak out. I usually wake up soon afterwards and if I annoy you too badly, you can wake me up as well. And uhm, I'm sorry if I wake you up.”

The older man stood there for a second, obviously surprised by the change of mood. “Don’t worry about that, please. What would you prefer? Do you want me to wake you up, or do you want me to give you space?”

“I would prefer to not be a bother in the first place, but well... Uhm, at home mum would wake me up, if I didn’t stop screaming. I mean, I don’t want to make you stand up for that, but the other residents might be grateful if you just woke me up.”

A soft caress of Harry’s left cheek, let him feel the security he desperately needed in that moment.

“Don’t ever feel like a burden, darling. I'm happy to help, if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.”, Harry nodded.

“Okay. Then we'll say goodnight for now. I hope you dream of something nice, babe.”

“Goodnight, Lou.”

Chapter Text

Harry didn’t wake Louis up. That didn’t mean he didn’t have a nightmare. No, he still jerked awake with a little muffled yelp, still feeling the phantom pain of a burning cigarette pressed to his skin over and over. He sat up trembling, stroking gently over the affected skin area on his left pectoral, just to make it sink in, that there weren’t any fresh wounds. Like always, he felt short of breath and clammy, a thin layer of cold sweat covering his entire body.

Deep breaths, he told himself. Then he looked to his left, where his alarm clock normally stood. It wasn’t there. Did the power go out? Now that he looked around himself, he realised he didn’t recognise his surroundings. That was not his room. This room, that was only lit up by the lights coming through the window was totally unfamiliar.

Where was he?

In a sudden panic, he stumbled out of the bed, the blankets doing their very best to hold on to him. Only when his feet met the cool hardwood floor, his short-circuiting brain seemed to reset itself. Of course he knew where he was! This was his new room in Louis’ flat! He was just where he wanted to be.

But once his body was in that fight or flight mode, it didn’t matter if his mind tried to be reasonable. He still had to fight against himself, against his own body, telling it to breathe steadily, to calm the fuck down.

It took him what felt like an hour, in which he knelt by the side of his bed, going through several techniques to settle his mind and body. It left him in a state of exhaustion. Panic attacks where fucking exhausting. But he couldn’t go back to sleep, it would only end up in a similar situation. He would have another nightmare, he would wake up in a panic and maybe he would even manage to scream the house down then. No. His night was over.

He shuffled over to his new nightstand, picking up his phone. It was 3:37 am. Well, that wasn’t too bad. He did sleep a solid 4 hours. That meant he probably managed two sleep cycles. He could live with that. At least, that was what he told himself, when he got himself off the floor. He was tired. So tired.

Finally on his feet, he stood there unsure of what to do now. At home, he’d go down to the kitchen to make himself a cuppa and wait for morning. But if he did that here, he might wake up Louis. The man had to stand up and get to work in about an hour and a half. He wouldn’t rob him of that precious time. No. He could wait here in his room, until he heard that the doctor was awake.

Harry sat back down on his bed, turning on the lamp on his nightstand. He didn’t get back under the covers, as to not get too cosy again. So, he sat there, slightly chilly, playing a mindless game on his phone to pass the time. Then, he finally heard noises.

A door opening, the sound of someone dragging their feet and then another door. Half a minute later, there was a toilet being flushed and then the sound of running water.

If Louis was under the shower, that meant he officially got up. That meant, Harry could also get up.

He swung his legs out of his bed again, standing up and walking over to his closed door. Then he stopped, looking down at himself. He wore shorts and a shaggy old t-shirt. That was fine, right? Shrugging as an answer to himself, he opened his door and saw that there living room still lay in darkness. He reached out his hand and turned the light on the ceiling on, groaning when the light blinded his eyes momentarily. There was a standard lamp over by the TV and he hurried to turn that one on and turn the big light off again.

Far better.

Maybe he could make Louis a coffee?

He'd seen him prepare the coffee machine several times now. It was easy enough and Harry made sure to only fill it up for two cups, then proceeded to turn the kettle on, because he was more of a tea guy, this time of the morning.

Over the bubbling sound of the kettle, he didn’t hear that the shower had stopped. What he did hear, was that the bathroom door opened and he turned to greet Louis.

A half naked Louis.

The older man, stood there in the doorframe of the bathroom, frozen in place as it seemed, only wrapped in a towel. It was slung lowly around his hips, revealing the entirety of his torso. He had tattoos. Harry didn’t know that he had tattoos. There was a chest piece,  right  under his protruding, delicate collarbones, which said ‘It is what it is’ and then under it on his left pec, the number 78 stood proudly. The way Louis stood, Harry could also see the tattoos on his right upper arm. It was a stag and right above, between it’s antlers, was a inky heart.

And apart from that surprising detail, it remained the fact that Louis stood there with only a towel around his hips, his hair wet and his skin still slightly damp. He was a vision. If Harry wasn’t so shocked, his mouth would have watered for sure.

But as it came so unexpected, he could only gape.

Louis apparently shook himself out of his little stupor, taking a hold of the front of his towel, to secure it in place. “Harry. Have I woken you up, love?”

The boy shook his head, having a hard time to look into Lou’s eyes and not at his naked chest.

“No? Okay. Uh, sorry for the outfit, I didn’t expect an audience, to be honest.”

The last sentence finally made Harry realise how unbelievably rude he was by staring like this. He jerkily turned first left, then decided in the middle of the movement to turn right and finally managed it to turn his back to Louis, walking to the coffee machine.

“It’s alright.”, he squeaked. “I made coffee.” But the coffee was still dripping through, so he just stared at the machine, hoping that Louis wasn’t too offended.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”, Harry mumbled, feeling ashamed by now.

There was a little snort. “Darling, you certainly didn’t. I hope you aren’t uncomfortable. I would’ve dressed in the bathroom, if I knew you'd be out here. Sorry, really.”

Very slowly, Harry turned around, seeing that Louis made a few steps from the bathroom door, over to him. Now, he did manage it to look into the man's eyes. “I'm fine. I saw worse.”

Louis' eyebrows lifted and Harry only now noticed how that sounded. “I mean, not that your body is bad, I-I-I mean, your body is good. Very good. Uhm, it’s nice. Shit, I mean, you look nice, but I've seen men more naked, uhm-“

“Babe!”, Louis interrupted with a laugh.

Harry wanted to die of shame. He'd seen hundreds of completely naked men and now the sight of Louis’ bare chest made him act like a Victorian man who'd seen a female ankle for the first time.

He facepalmed himself, letting out a little whine. “Sorry.”

“No, I feel flattered. Really. To hear that my body isn’t bad, is the nicest compliment I got in a while. Really. Great boost for my confidence.”

It was obvious, that the older man was taking the piss out of him with an enormous grin on his face. “Thanks, love. I'm going to put some clothes on this breath-taking body now and then I'd love that coffee you mentioned.”

Humming a merry tune, Louis turned on his heel and strutted over to his bedroom.

Harry watched him go, peaking through the gaps between his fingers. Honestly, the backside of Louis was even worse. Or better. Depended on how Harry looked at it. And he did look at it. Where else should someone look when there was this splendid, jiggling specimen of an a-

Oh my god, Harry, you pervert!

Face heating up to boiling point, he turned quickly around again, giving Louis the privacy he deserved, at least for the last metre to his room.

He occupied himself by preparing his tea and pouring Lou a coffee. It didn’t take the doctor long to come out of his room again, clad in dark slacks and a green jumper with a dark shirt under it, his hair still damp.

“I'll just quickly do my hair.”, he explained, still a shit-eating grin on his face, as he passed through the living room.

In the time, Louis needed in the bathroom, Harry also prepared him a sandwich with ham, cheese, lettuce and tomatoes. He put the plate on the corner of the counter with his coffee and when Louis emerged from the bathroom again, styled perfectly, he came over with a wide grin.

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that, babe. I barely have time for the coffee as it is.”, Louis said in surprise, once he saw his little brekky.

“We can wrap it up in foil or something and you just have it on the go?”, Harry proposed, glad that Louis wasn’t teasing him still.

“Good idea. Thank you, love. I appreciate it.”

“Tell me where you keep the foil?”

“Drawer next to you, the top one.”

Harry went on to wrap the sandwich for Lou, who practically inhaled his coffee.

“Uhm, Harry?” His voice was less mocking and more gentle now.

“Hm?”

“You're okay, right? Me coming out of there half-naked didn’t trigger you or something, right?”

The boy paused to look up at Louis. He shook his head. “No. No it didn’t trigger me. I'm just a bit flustered.”

That made Louis smile again. “Well, flustering you is alright, I guess. Uhm and why are you already up?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Pff, had a nightmare, the usual stuff.”

“Oh, do you want to talk about it?”

Harry gave Louis a little smile, because he was sure if he said yes, the doctor would totally sit down with him to listen, even if it made him late for work. “Maybe later, when you come back. Now, you’ve got to leave.”

That seemed to wake Lou up properly. “Shit, you're right. See you later, babe.” He hurried out of the living room to the hallway, to get into his shoes and jacket. Harry followed him with his sandwich. Louis took it with a smile, once he was all dressed and then took Harry’s hand, to press a quick kiss to its back.

“See you later. Call me if you want to. Bye.”

And with that, he hurried out the door, leaving a flustered Harry behind.

Harry got through a couple of hours by sipping tea and staring out of the window, watching the street below get busier. A few months ago, he’d probably be in his cot at this time of the morning, high on some pills to sleep somehow. He didn’t wish those days back, not at all, but the tranquillity he felt while being on said pills had been... Well, that had been fucking nice. But sadly Harry was determined to stay sober, because he had something to prove. Of course, that determination didn’t cancel out his cravings entirely, but he was certain that he could resist. At least for the moment.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by his phone vibrating with a message.

Mum: Good morning! How was your first night? Did you already have breakfast? Did you think of your pills?

Half annoyed, half amused, Harry rolled his eyes. It was only half past seven. Those were a lot of questions for half past seven. But Anne probably assumed, that Harry was up for a few hours already, like always. Which was true. He sighed and simply called her, knowing it would be easier than texting to and fro.

He assured his mother that he would have breakfast as soon as he hung up and took his pills with her on the line. He told her his night had been alright, nothing out of the ordinary and it was clear that she had a hard time with not being able to be there for him.

“I love you, baby. Don’t forget to call me, okay?”, she said at the end of their call.

“Of course. I love you too, mum.”

“Alright, bye bye.”

“Bye.”

Dutifully, he prepared himself some breakfast. He just did another sandwich and ate a banana with it. When he was finished, it was still only 8:30 am. That was a lot of day ahead of him, with a whole lot of nothing to do. Of course, he still had some boxes with stuff to unpack, but honestly, he didn’t know where to put those things. He couldn’t put them all inside of his room. Maybe he should have a look around? Would that be snooping? He merely wanted to know where Louis kept things. That wasn’t snooping, right? But he still felt like he should ask Louis first. With his mind made up, Harry sat there again, with nothing to do. He could clean the flat a bit. That would definitely show Louis hid gratitude.

He found the supply of cleaning products relatively easy and went to work. The thing was, the flat wasn’t particularly dirty, so Harry was done with it in about an hour and a half.

In resignation, Harry sat down on the sofa and switched on the TV, doing nothing at all until it was time to start cooking.

His week went like this for lost of the time. He woke up with a nightmare, thankfully quietly until now, waited for Louis to get up, prepared him coffee and breakfast and then he waited for Louis to come home again. It was dull.

But tomorrow would be Louis' day off and Harry went to bed with a lighter feeling. Only to wake up after two hours, drenched in sweat. His breathing was erratic and everything in his body screamed at him to run, to hide from the pain. After a week of going through this alone again and again, he felt like he would break any moment now. His mind would simply break and leave him in a panicked state forever.

He needed help. His first appointment with his new therapist was the day after tomorrow, but he needed help now. He needed someone to tell him that it would be alright.

He stood up on shaky legs and stumbled out of his room, through the living room, coming to a halt in front of Louis' closed door. Was it too impertinent to wake Louis up? To ask him for help at 1 o'clock in the morning? It probably was, but Harry didn’t know what to do anymore.

So, he lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles quietly against the wood of the door.

No reaction.

He knocked a tiny bit louder.

“Harry?”, came a muffled groan through the door.

It made Harry feel even worse. Louis sounded so tired.

“Sorry.”, he quickly said, turned and hurried back to his room, hoping Louis would just fall back asleep. He could work through his panic on his own. He did it a thousand times. Why did he think he should wake Louis up?

Before Harry reached his own room, he heard a door open behind him.

“Harry? What is it, babe?” Louis sounded more alert now.

Harry stopped in his tracks, trying his best to hide the shivers that went through his body like waves.

“Nothing, sorry, you- you can go back to sleep.”

“Nonsense. You're clearly upset. Was it another nightmare?”

His voice was so gentle and that was basically what made Harry lose his composure.

“Yes.”, he admitted with a sniff.

He heard Louis bare feet cross the living room and then his warmth was right behind Harry.

“Come on. Let’s go to your bed, make you comfortable, alright?”

The soft touch of Louis hand on the small of his back was unexpected, so naturally it made Harry startle with a small yelp.

“Sorry, darling. Can I touch you?”

“Yes.”, he sniffed and this time, when he anticipated the touch, it was alright, comforting even.

He let himself be guided back to his room, over to his bed.

“Is it alright, if I get on the bed with you?”, the doctor asked and Harry nodded. Apparently it was light enough in the room , thanks to the streetlights outside, for Louis to see it.

“Alright, up you get then.”

Harry listened and got back into his bed with shaky legs. Louis waited and took the covers to bundle Harry up, before he hopped onto the bed on the other side, over the blankets. It was the first time, Harry dared to look at him. From what he could see in the dimness of the room, the doctor wore a t-shirt and his boxers.

“I'm going to hug you know, okay? And then you tell me what happened.” Those words were swiftly followed by actions and in a matter of seconds, Harry lay on Louis chest.

It was warm and comfortable and the doctor’s steady heartbeat was soothing to his own. The boy took his time, let the hug work it’s magic, before he even tried to speak.

After a while, Louis started to caress Harry’s back, carefully avoiding the scar over his left shoulder blade.

“It’s alright, love, take your time.”, he whispered patiently.

But Harry’s body calmed down so far, that he felt ready to talk now. “T'was just a nightmare... and I... I'm sorry for waking you up.”

“No, babe, you don’t have to be sorry. You can always come to me, no matter when or why. Honestly, I'm a bit surprised you didn’t come to me earlier.”

“You had to work.”

“And? I'll gladly stay up with you, if it helps. Honestly, darling, you can come to me whenever you want to, okay?” It sounded so genuine, Harry was inclined to believe that Louis didn’t just say this, but also meant it.

“Okay.”, he agreed quietly.

“Good. Now, want to talk about that nightmare? I bet it helps.”

Harry hesitated. He always hesitated at this point, because it was so hard to talk about it. Still, he knew by now, that it definitely helped to confide in somebody.

“It was... uhm, it was a night a few days after I got taken. Simon summoned some of his cronies t-to... break me in. They took turns and acted like they were doing me a favour by teaching me, uhm, how to be a good whore.” He could feel the shame creeping up his neck and he hid his face in Louis chest.

Louis’ other hand got to work and softly patted over Harry’s hair. “That’s horrible, babe. I'm so, so sorry you had to experience that. But they can’t hurt you anymore.”

Harry nodded into the warm chest under his face. “I know. But my mind doesn’t know that, when I'm asleep. It’s always so real. I can still feel it, when I wake up.”

“I’m so sorry, love. I hope it’ll get better over time. In the meantime, I'm here for you.”, Louis whispered and he never stopped caressing Harry’s back and head and he felt so comfortable and warm and protected in that moment, that he didn’t fight his tiredness any longer. He let his eyes fall shut and listened to the slow heartbeat in his ear, that acted like a lullaby.

He fell asleep.

When he woke up again the room was light, indicating that the sun had risen a while ago. He was lying on his side and there was a warm body pressed to his back and an arm around his waist. The gentle snoring, near his ear, told him that Louis was fast asleep and Harry didn’t dare to move a single muscle.

On one side he was extremely comfy, but on the other side he was hyper-aware of the fact that Louis crotch was pressed to his behind, even though there was a protective layer of blankets between them. This was the first time, he was confronted with this particular issue. Not that he never thought about Louis dick before, he did, but he never had it pressed to him like this in reality. Harry thanked all the gods that Louis didn’t have morning wood, because he was sure that that would have sent him straight into a panic attack. This and the fact that Louis was asleep, so he obviously wasn’t doing this on purpose, let Harry stay calm. Or at least calm enough.

And it was also a tiny bit exciting, lying here like they were boyfriends, sharing a bed. The longer Harry thought about this and the longer he had time to become used to the feeling of Louis plastered to his backside, the more he had to grin dumbly. Maybe some of the giddiness stemmed from the feeling of having slept though the rest of the night in peace. No matter what illness possessed Harry’s mind, Louis was definitely the cure. It happened twice now, that he slept without nightmares in Louis arms. One time could be a mere coincidence, but this right here proved that it wasn’t.

Suddenly, there was a sleepy groan behind Harry and Louis started to move. He first pulled Harry closer with his arm and then he pressed his hips forward in a more than obvious manner.

Harry's body stiffened and all the giddiness was sucked out of him at once.

Then he felt Louis become very still, before he slowly retracted first his hips, then the rest of his body and finally his arm.

There was a moment of quietness and then Louis spoke with a raspy voice. “Sorry, darling. I wasn’t completely awake yet and... Well, I wasn’t thinking.”

Harry took a very deep breath and decided then, not to make a big deal out of it. He wouldn’t let this minor hiccup destroy the fact that Louis helped him sleep though the night. So he slowly turned around, locking eyes with a distressed looking Louis.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”, he said with a small smile.

Louis seemed to be sceptical about this, as he raised an eyebrow and lowered the other.

It looked quite comical and it made Harry giggle. Laughing about it seemed to be a good way to go about it, he decided, because it felt good. The laughter dispelled the unpleasant feeling and the awkwardness.

Slowly, but surely, a fond smile unfurled on Louis’ face.

“Good morning, love.”

“Good morning, Lou.”, Harry smiled. Shit, he really felt happy in this moment.

“I'll quickly pop under the shower and then I'm going downstairs to get us pastries from the bakery. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a dream.”

“Alright. I won't be long.”, Louis grinned and then he rolled out of the bed and Harry only now realised with a twinge of guilt, that Louis spend the night without a blanket. Harry didn’t have to ask why. It was obvious why. Louis wanted to make Harry feel secure, hence he stayed over the covers, to signal to Harry that he wasn’t breaching his private space.  

Harry had to find a solution for that, if he wanted a repeat of this night.

Louis hurried out if the room, hoping that his saggy t-shirt was covering his crotch enough for Harry not to see that some part of him became very excited by their sleeping position. Or at least, it became excited, when Louis pressed it to Harry’s bum, when he was still half-asleep.

He reached the bathroom and quickly got inside, turning the key inside the lock. Only now, he allowed himself to reach down and give his painfully hard dick a squeeze to relieve some of the pressure. He swallowed a groan.

He needed to get rid of this problem fast and he had two options. Turning the shower to its coldest setting or getting rid of it while he stood under the warm water. Honestly, the first option sounded barbaric. No, he could do this, without Harry noticing. He could be quiet.

He quickly stepped over to his shower, getting rid of his t-shirt and boxers along the way. Once he had the water at a comfortable temperature, he got under the spray and closed his eyes in bliss.

He let his hand slowly wander over his chest, stopping at his right nipple to tease it a bit, before he remembered that he didn’t have all day. He closed his fist around his throbbing shaft, biting his lip to keep the moan in. God, just the feeling of pressing his dick to Harry’s arse had been enough to let him get rock-hard in a matter of seconds. He knew it was utterly wrong to fantasise like this about Harry, but he couldn’t help it in this moment. In his mind, he was back in bed with Harry and the boy hadn’t reacted by getting stiff as a board. No, in his fantasy, Harry pressed back against him with a small, sleepy moan, that made Louis cock twitch. There was no blanket between them and even better, there were no clothes. It was just skin on skin and Louis could press his aching length between Harry’s bum cheeks.

Merely the thought of doing that, made Louis moan and he immediately stifled it with his other hand.

“Fuck.”, he hissed into his palm.

In his mind, Harry started to grind against him, eliciting tiny moans from his soft pink lips. Louis imagined how he reached up to turn Harry’s head towards him to lock their lips, while their hips moved with each other. Then Louis’ mind came up with the sound of Harry’s voice, how he whined out Louis’ name pleadingly, like he wanted more and that was what pushed Louis over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”, he moaned quietly into his hand, while his cock began to jerk and finally his release spilled out of him, splattering against the tiles and over his fist.

His whole body shook with it and he had to take a minute to calm down. He didn’t came this hard, with only his hand as company, in years!

Fucking hell, he was so gone for Harry. He felt like a teenager again, or at least his cock did, because he couldn’t remember when the thought of someone moaning his name had been enough to make him come.

The longer he stood under the water, the more he felt the shame of what he just did. Harry trusted him and here he was, fantasising about fucking him. He should feel ashamed. That wasn’t okay. And still, he couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the effect Harry had on him. Also, he would never act on his thoughts, never, not without Harry’s explicit consent. He would rather die, than do to Harry what all those men did to him before. He would keep this a secret from Harry and as long as he could keep his dick under control in his presence, everything was alright... right?  

The man sighed and started to wash away the evidence of what he just did, hurrying up, so he could get Harry the pastries he promised him.

Chapter Text

Harry waited for Louis’ return, making coffee and tea for them, while he pondered over what happened earlier. He didn’t blame Lou at all for the little grind he did, because he'd been obviously more asleep than awake. It was probably something he just did when he felt a warm body pressed to his front and it was likely he did that with his previous partners, so it was just an unconscious thing he did. And when he did wake up, he immediately realised what he was doing and made space between them. That also showed Harry that Louis hadn't been doing it on purpose.

Still, the situation could have gone wrong very, very badly. What if Lou woke up a bit later? What if he got a boner and poked Harry with it? As funny as that thought might sound, it would have probably send Harry into a major flashback. Generally, the boy was surprised by how relatively calm he stayed. That was presumably a consequence of waking up rested and first and foremost happy. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he woke up feeling happy, if it wasn’t in Louis’ arms. That had to mean something.

Harry heard the front door being unlocked and moments later the doctor walked in, clad in black trackies and a grey fitted jumper, his hair unmade and kind of messy, parts of it still wet.

“Lou.”, he smiled happily, feeling like the luckiest person alive to get to see that man like this. And to be brought pastries by him.

“Hey, darling.”, was the other’s response, pure fondness emanating from his face.

“I made coffee.”, he said, which was quite redundant, because the entire living room was smelling of it and there was a steaming cup standing on the counter.

“Thank you, babe.”, Louis still said, like it was total news to him.

They settled on the sofa, making themselves comfortable and munched on the sweet and savoury pastries Lou bought for them, while a documentary about dictators through the ages played on the tv.

“Want to go on a walk later? We can drive to Hampstead and go to the park or something?”, the older man asked after they were done eating and they both just sat there, pleasantly full.

Harry’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “That’s a lovely idea, Lou!”

Right in that moment, a gust of wind, made heavy rain splatter against to windows of the living room.

After staring at the window for about three seconds, both men turned to each other and erupted into laughter.

“Well, maybe the weather will clear up again.”, Lou cackled and just in this moment a loud rumble of thunder could be heard.

Harry threw his head back and let out a guffaw. “You think?”

The weather didn’t clear up. The storm lasted the whole day, but Louis made the best out of it.

Instead of turning on a lamp to light up the dark room, he got out a few candles and put them around the room, explaining that Lottie had brought them with her during her last visit. The candles cast a glowing, romantic light around the room and Harry nearly swooned.

“That’s so cosy, Lou.”, he beamed.

They spent the whole day playing board games with each other, which made them both aware of the fact that they were just as competitive as the other. Still, Louis had a tendency to let Harry win, just to see him happy.

When it was time for dinner, they cooked a Bolognese together and sat down at the dinner table with a glass of non-alcoholic wine.

“That tastes more like grape juice, if you ask me.”, Harry quipped, once he had a sip of his glass.

Louis nodded with a laugh. “It does, doesn’t it? But we can still pretend. Plus, it looks more fancy in those glasses, innit?”

“That’s true. Well, then.” Harry held up his glass, waiting for Louis to clink it against his own.

“Cheers, babe.”

“Cheers and bon appétit.”

They ate in silence for a bit, before Louis made a noise like he forgot something. “Your medication.”, he just said and stood up to retrieve it.

Harry rolled his eyes as the pill box was put in front of him.

“I wouldn’t have died, if I had taken them 5 minutes later, you know?”

“Funnily enough, I do know that, love, but I don’t want us to forget.”

“Yeah, yeah.”, Harry muttered, without any real spite and swallowed his pills down in one gulp.

“Thank you.”, Louis smiled and picked up his fork and spoon again.

“You’re extremely fucking welcome.”, Harry nodded courtly.

The doctor snorted into his spaghetti. “I feel like I should tell you off for your language, for your mum's sake.”, he snickered.

“Don’t you dare.”, Harry laughed. “You have the worst potty mouth ever, Lou.”

“Ex-fucking-cuse me? I got what?”, the older man sassed back. “Besides, that’s not even true. Wait until you meet Niall. He left Ireland as a kid, but it seems Ireland never left him. Every second word of his is an expletive.”

“Oh, sounds charming.”, Harry deadpanned. “Can I expect the same of his mother tomorrow?”

Louis was quick to shake his head. “No, not at all. She is an absolute lady and most of the time I doubt that Niall and her even share the same DNA.”

“Oh, alright then. I shall be at my best behaviour then.”

Lou leaned his head to the side in an appraising manner. “How do you feel about going there tomorrow?”

“Honestly? I'm kind of looking forward to it. You told me that she's excellent and I trust your judgement. But I'm also scared, that it won’t help, just like the last one.”

“Give her a chance, alright?”, the older man asked gently and Harry immediately nodded. “Of course I will. I do want to get better after all. Really, I can’t wait to be better. I want... I want to be with you so badly.”

“You are with me, babe.”, Louis frowned.

“You know what I mean, Lou. I want to be with you in the way you wanted to be with me this morning.” And apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Louis paled and put his cutlery down.

“Harry, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened today. It was wrong and I... I can only apologise. I haven’t been awake yet and my body sort of did it on its own. Which doesn’t make it okay. Not at all. I'm so, so sorry.” He let his head bow forwards in shame.

“Lou, it’s okay. You stopped once you realised what you were doing.”

An utterly mirthless laugh escaped the man opposite him, while he looked to the side, like he wanted to avoid looking at Harry at all costs.

“You did! I'm not gonna lie, I was a bit, uh, shocked first, but I can’t hold something against you, you did unconsciously!”

Still, Louis remained silent, staring off to the side, looking conscience-stricken.

“Lou, really, it’s okay. You're body reacted. It’s... natural, really. Or it should be. It’s not your fault I can’t be in the proximity of a hard-on, not even my own.”

“Harry, stop.”, Lou muttered, shaking his head.

“Why? It’s the truth, innit? That’s why I need to go to therapy! So we will be able to do all that, without me freaking out.”

Now Louis did look at Harry, his eyes hard. “No, Harry, you’re not going to therapy for that! You're going to therapy to get better, sleep through the night and stuff. Not for being able to remain calm, if I do something I shouldn’t do!” By the end, the doctor got louder with anger and it made Harry shrink back.

Louis closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then got up, leaving the room. Even though he closed the door to his bedroom quietly, it made Harry flinch.

How did that happen? What did Harry say that made Louis so mad? They never had a row like this before. Sometimes, they had a bit of a heated discussion, back then, when Louis had tried to convince Harry to not go back to Simon. But never something like this. Something had made Louis really mad. Something Harry did or said. And it was so bad, that he left the room.

Harry couldn’t help it, he started to cry. Big, fat tears started to roll down his cheeks and drop onto his half-eaten plate of spaghetti.

Estimating that the evening was over, Harry stood up and blew out the candle in the middle of the table, before stumbling over to his room.

He fell into his bed, sobbing by now, and tried to bury himself under his pillows and blankets. Why couldn’t he be normal? Why did he have to say what he said? Why did he have to make Louis angry?

Harry cried and cried, being sure that if he didn’t stop soon, he would dry up like a prune.

Knock, knock, knock.

He held his breath to listen, because he wasn’t sure if he heard right.

Knock, knock, knock .

Yes, there was someone knocking at his door.

“Harry? Can I come in, please?”

Very slowly, Harry sat up, pillows and blankets falling off of him.

He sniffed, then reached for some tissues on his bedside table, before he meekly said “Yes.”

The door opened and Louis stepped inside, his face falling as soon as he saw the state Harry was in.

“Oh no, babe, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He swiftly walked over, but before he could even reach Harry, the latter began to bawl again. “I made you ma-ha-haaaad.”, he wailed.

Louis climbed up onto the mattress, to get Harry into his arms.

“No, darling. I was mad, but not at you. I was mad at myself.”, Louis sighed, gently rocking Harry from side to side.

“I t-told you it's o-o-okay!”, the boy sobbed, gripping onto Louis sweater.

“No it's not. I should be able to control myself.”

“Lou, you-you were asleep.” Harry was getting hiccups by now.

“I wasn’t when I woke up and left your room. Nor was I asleep under the shower.”

“What do you-“ hiccup “-mean?”

Louis let out a long, very long sigh. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I feel like I have to be honest, so I can apologise.”

Harry lifted his head to look at Lou in confusion, even though he still held onto his jumper, like he wanted to make sure the man stayed put. “What are you talking-“ hiccup “-about?”

The older man obviously hesitated, but then determination crossed his face. “I was asleep, or at least, 90 percent asleep, when I... did the grinding thing. I also feel guilty for that, but as you say, I wasn’t doing it consciously. The thing that made me so mad at myself, was everything that happened afterwards...” Lou looked down for a moment. “It felt so good, Harry. Waking up with you in my arms, it felt so incredibly good.” By now, Harry was more confused than ever. Why was Louis feeling guilty for feeling good? “And I... I got an erection.” Oh, that’s what the issue was. “That’s why I got out of bed so fast. I didn’t want to scare you.”

Harry nodded, like he wanted to say that that was fair enough.

“And I should’ve just taken a cold shower, but I didn’t.”

Lou looked at Harry beseechingly and Harry got it. That morning, Louis got up, hiding his boner from Harry and went to the bathroom to get rid of it.

“That’s not exactly a reason to be mad at yourself, Lou.”, Harry said quietly, the hiccup gone, probably because Harry concentrated so hard on understanding the issue.

“It is. First of all, I should be in control of my body. I’m not a ruddy teenager anymore. And second of all, I shouldn’t be thinking of you while doing that. That’s inappropriate and I'm so sorry, love.”

That was why Louis was mad at himself? He thought it was inappropriate to think of Harry when he had a wank? “Well, if that’s a reason to be guilty, I'm sorry as well.”, he said, without thinking about it too much. Of course, he was quite surprised about what Louis was telling him there. But funnily enough he didn’t feel used. It didn’t feel... nasty. Not if Louis was the one doing it. If anything, Harry felt kind of flattered. That was the most surprising discovery in all of this. The thought of Louis wanking while picturing Harry, didn’t put him off. Hence, his initial reaction was to try to put Louis mind at ease and which better way was there, than to tell him that Harry was guilty of the same offence?

It was bizarrely satisfying to watch Louis jaw drop. He didn’t even know, where his sudden confidence was coming from.

“What?”, Louis breathed out.

And even though, Harry’s face was still soaked with tears, he had to grin, at least a tiny bit.

“Well, if you have to apologise for fantasising about me while shaking hands with the milkman, I have to say sorry as well.”

He was being stared at for that statement, then Louis turned his head and let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry. Sorry. It’s just the milkman comment. Sorry.”

Harry’s grin became wider. “Is ‘battling the purple-headed yogurt slinger’ more to your liking?”

Now Louis lost it completely, smacking a hand to his mouth to muffled his laughter, but to no avail. “Harry! I was trying to be serious here!”, he laughed out, shaking his head again.

Harry shrugged. “Well, you didn’t need to.”

It took the doctor a moment, but he managed to return to a serious state somehow. “Are you telling the truth? You really, uhm... why am I having trouble talking about this, all of a sudden? I’m a doctor for fucks sake.”

Harry grinned and shrugged again, telling Louis he was just as clueless.

“Alright, alright. Let me try again. So, you really masturbated while thinking of me?”

Okay, that did made Harry blush, new-found confidence or not. “Uhm, I mean, I tried to. It, uhm, didn’t really work.”

“Oh.”

“Not because thinking of you wasn’t uhm, enough or something. I think it would have worked, at least until I freaked out, but my mum interrupted.”

Louis pulled a sympathetic face. “Oh no.”

“Yeah. She accused me of doing drugs because my door was locked, while I stood there and tried to hide my boner.”

“Oh, no. That sounds awful. I'm sorry, babe.”

Again, Harry shrugged. “It’s alright.”

“And, uhm, after that? Did you try again?”, the older one asked tentatively.

The boy shook his head. “No. I was too scared to try again.”

“Oh, okay. Well, there’s no rush.”, Louis said gently and it was nice to being back to talking honestly and openly with one another.

“Yeah, I guess. But you see? You don’t have to feel guilty at all. We both did it.”

Louis pressed his lips together and moved his head from side to side. “I still think it’s different, given your history. It makes me feel like I used you and that’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

Harry took his time to think about that, to be sure how he felt about it. The core statement of what Louis said was kind of true, if you looked at it from a neutral perspective. It was different if someone wanked to the thought of a traumatised victim of sexual assault or if the victim himself did it. But if Harry himself didn’t feel like it was wrong, than Louis shouldn’t feel like he did something bad. He tried to verbalise exactly those thoughts and even though he thought he did a poor job of it, Louis seemed to understand what he was saying.

“Hmm... Well. Fair enough, I guess? I mean, thank you for saying that, darling.”

Harry smiled, leaning closer to Louis to put his head back onto his shoulder, his face squished into the doctor’s neck, because he knew that he could tease him like that. He deserved a little bit of teasing, after all of this, right? “I'm not just saying it, Lou. I mean it.”, he breathed into Louis’ neck and he felt the slight shudder that went through the body in front of him. “I hereby give you official permission to fantasise about me all you want.”

Another shudder, this time a bit more pronounced.

“Right back at you.”, Lou said, a slight tremor to his voice.

Harry grinned and it bordered on a smirk. “Thanks.”, he breathed and then, taken over by that magic wave of confidence again, he pressed a kiss just to the place below Lou's earlobe, before he drew back. Of course, he blushed as bright as a tomato, as he saw Louis flabbergasted face, that also had a slight pink tint to it.

They just looked at each other, both feeling the electric sparkles sizzle between them.

Maybe now was the right time? Harry felt confident. He felt good. And the crazy fluttering in his tummy wasn’t panic, it was excitement.

They already sat so close together, it took practically nothing to lean over to reach Louis. Still, it felt like he was moving in slow motion and like it took ages. It took so long, Harry could see how Louis’ eyes became wide with surprise, but it seemed to be the good kind of surprise, so Harry kept going.

Finally, finally, their lips collided.

Harry closed his eyes and just felt. It felt like he touched an electric fence and the shock travelled with the speed of lighting from his lips through his whole body. Every last cell of his body was woken up by it, making him feel more alive than in the last five years combined. It was an overwhelming feeling, but a good one. A fantastic one.

The kiss was simple. It was just two pairs of lips pressed together and maybe it lacked finesse, but it was the kiss Harry always wished for. To him it was perfect.

Louis stayed perfectly still, just like he didn’t want to scare Harry away. Was he even breathing? Harry wasn’t sure. He knew, that he himself wasn’t. That was the reason, why he eventually drew back a few centimetres, to take in a huge gulp of air. Still, he was positive that the dizziness, he felt, wasn’t induced by the lack of oxygen, because it felt far too nice. More like being high. Could you be high on a kiss?

He took another breath and opened his eyes, seeing and hearing Louis do the same.

The boy smiled.

“Are you alright?”, Lou asked, sounding a bit breathless.

Harry smiled even wider. “Yes.”

“Can I kiss you again?”, Louis talked fast, like he could barely wait.

Harry nodded quickly. “Yes.”

And Louis did. This time, it was the older man who initiated the kiss and though he kept it relatively simple, just as Harry had, it felt more powerful. More overwhelming.

Harry reached up, to place his hand on Louis shoulder, squeezing it once, before drawing back, breathing harshly.

“Wow.”

“Still alright?”

“Yeah, I think so. Give me a second.”

Harry did his best to concentrate on taking in measured breaths, to calm down his wildly beating heart. Too much of something good, to fast, he thought. It was like taking another hit of a drug, even though he was already high.

“Overdose.”, he whispered, laughing shakily.

“I know what you mean.”, Louis voice just as shaky. “It’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Harry looked at him again and it was the right decision, because it centred him. Nothing scary was happening. It was Lou. Lou, who wouldn’t ever hurt him. Lou, who he was in love with.

“I'm okay.”, he finally said, smiling reassuringly.

“Thank fuck. Because that was really nice.”, the doctor grinned.

Harry giggled, nodding in agreement. “It was.”

Of course, Harry still woke up from a nightmare, shaking and disorientated. When he finally managed to calm down, he sighed in exhaustion. Somehow,  he thought, this night would be different. After him and Louis said good night, exchanging one last chaste kiss, he fell asleep with a big fat sappy grin on his face. He really thought being delirious with joy should change something.

Apparently not.

This got him into a foul mood, being fed up with having those dreams every fucking night, fed up with himself. What made everything worse, was that he dreamed of a night were a punter insisted on snogging with him, although he was hurting Harry again and again. Of course. Harry wouldn’t be Harry, if his subconsciousness wouldn’t somehow associate the very lovely kisses he had with Lou, with those awful ones he received while being raped.

It pissed him off. Why couldn’t his mind allow him one happy night?

The frustration enhanced the itchy feeling, he always kind of felt, albeit more subdued. He started to scratch at his neck, before he realised what he was doing. That was just his addiction playing tricks on him.

He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this. He wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t relapse because of a fucking nightmare.

He told himself that over and over again, until the awful feeling somewhat subsided. It was never really gone.

He took a look at his phone to check the time. It was almost 5. Louis would get up any moment now and indeed, there was the listless shuffling of tired feet, just two minutes later.

Deciding that his night was over as well, Harry got up, to make Lou some coffee.

Harry was practically buzzing with nerves, by the time Louis came home. The doctor ended his shift an hour earlier than usual, to be able to drive Harry to his first therapy appointment.

“Hey, babe. Let me just have a wee and then we can go, yeah?”, Louis smiled, when he hurried into the living room and then straight on into the bathroom.

Harry huffed out a nervous laugh, standing in the middle of the room and just waited, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He made an effort to look nice today, donning a dark green shirt with black jeans. He wanted to make a good first impression, he didn’t know why.

He heard Louis flush and then wash his hands, before he came out again, smiling. “Wow, look at you. Dressed all smart and everything.”

Harry immediately blushed and looked down at himself again, suddenly feeling rather insecure about his choice of clothing. “I, uhm, I just thought... I don’t know...”, he mumbled, fiddling with the shirt’s hem again.

“You look lovely, darling. I'm sure Maura will appreciate it.”, the doctor said in a softer tone, evidently picking up on Harry’s insecurity.

Harry looked up and gave Louis a little smile, thanking him for his words like that.

“Alright, we should go. The traffic is horrible out there. Are you ready, love?”

“Yeah, I am.”, he confirmed.

They got downstairs together and Harry only now realised that this was the first time he left the building, since he moved in. He should definitely go outside more!

Louis conveniently got a parking space only a few metres away and they got into his car. Harry had seen it when Louis visited him in Holmes Chapel, but he'd never been inside of it.

“This is a really nice car, Lou.”, he stated, looking at the high-tech dashboard, that reminded him of a spaceship.

“Thanks, love. Only got it last year. Working around the clock must have one benefit, right?”, Louis grinned, starting the car by the push of a button.

“I don’t even have a driver’s licence.” It came out sounding very subdued. This, once again, reminded him of all the things he missed out on.

“You don’t?”, Louis asked and Harry shot him a look.

“Oh. No, of course you don’t. Sorry, babe. But it’s never too late to get it. And by the way, by car isn’t always the fastest way to go around in London.” The older man pointed at the tailback in front of them.

“Yeah, I know. I should get myself another Oyster card.”

“What an absolute gormless prat, look at him!”, Louis cursed, as a car in front of them, tried to change lanes and efficiently blocked everything. “Sorry, babe. Yeah, of course we can get you one.”

It took them a bit over forty minutes to get to the building, where Maura Gallagher had her office. Harry had been told, that Niall and his mother didn’t share last names, because his parents divorced when he was five years old and his mum had married a nice bloke with the name of Gallagher a few years later.

Louis was lucky and was able to secure a parking space by the side of the road.

“Here we are then.”, Louis said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. They’d decided that it wouldn’t make sense for Louis to return home, so he would wait in the waiting area for Harry. The boy wasn’t to elated by the thought of Louis having to sit there for such a long time, but Louis had insisted on driving him, so there wasn’t much of a choice.

The building was quite nice and they were up at the fifth storey in no time, entering directly into a nice looking reception area. It looked airy and bright, giving a nice but professional first impression to Harry.

They walked up to the young looking woman behind the desk, who already waited for them, smiling.

“Hello, welcome, I'm Cathy, what can I do for you?”

“Uh, hi. Uhm, I have an appointment in, uh, two minutes.”, Harry stammered.

“Okay, would you tell me your name, please?”, Cathy asked, totally unperturbed.

“Uh, yes, it’s Harry Styles.”

“Great, thank you. Would you read that really quickly and sign this at the bottom? It’s just a data protection declaration, every new patient has to sign.” She put a piece of paper onto the desk and held out a pen for Harry.

He just scribbled his name at the dotted line at the bottom.

“Cheers. Then you can go right through. Second door on the right.”, she explained and pointed into the direction Harry had to go. Then she looked at Louis. “Will you be accompanying him, or do you want to sit down over there? We have tea and coffee.”

“I'll have a tea then, thank you.”

“Coming right up.”, Cathy nodded cheerily.

Louis turned to Harry, briefly stroking over his cheek with his knuckles. “Alright, I'll see you after, babe.”

“Yeah, okay.”, Harry nodded and left Louis by the reception.

He really, really hoped this therapy session would go well. He wanted to get better so badly.

Chapter Text

Harry stopped in front of the light wood door, taking a last deep breath, before he raised his fist to knock.

“Come in.”, a melodic voice trilled from inside the room and Harry did just that. He opened the door, to step into a light-filled room. It had large windows, which explained all the natural light coming in. The rest of the walls were painted in a nice cream colour, except for one wall, which looked like it was just raw bricks and Harry wondered briefly if this was a very realistic looking wallpaper of if it was really just bricks. Anyhow, it reminded him of his wall at Twemlow Viaduct in Holmes Chapel. Furthermore, the room had a desk standing in one corner by the window, a large yellow sofa, a dark yellow lounger right below the windows and a dark grey armchair, which was currently occupied by a woman, with short-ish blonde hair, which was held back by green reading specs. Before Harry took further notice of the woman, who watched him with a smile, he let his gaze wander through the room once again, taking notice of the potted plants, who looked well cared for and the large circular carpet, beige and dark grey, which connected the space between the sofa and the armchair.

He saw the woman shift her weight and decided it was beginning to be rude, not to greet her.

He looked at her, giving her a shy smile. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon. I suppose you’re Harry?” Harry nodded, noticing her pleasant Irish accent. “Great. I'm Maura Gallagher. You can come in and close the door. Are you okay with taking off your shoes? It keeps the carpet clean and it’s more comfortable in my opinion. But it’s up to you.” She herself was wearing comfy looking green slippers, which matched her spectacles.

“Oh, of course.” Harry closed the door and slipped out of his boots immediately, regretting his choice of bright green and blue socks. He didn’t think anyone would see them.

Harry remained by the entrance, unsure what to do now.

Maura pointed at the sofa, a comforting smile on her lips. “You may sit down, if you'd like. Or lie down. But you can also stand or walk around, if you’re more comfortable like that?”

Harry crossed the space and sat down on the surprisingly squashy sofa, deciding he was alright with sitting there. And he totally appreciated it that Maura gave him the choice. That was nice.

“Okay, first of all, it’s very nice to meet you, Harry. You can call me Maura, or Doctor Gallagher, which ever feels better to you.”

“Nice to meet you too... Maura?” He was aware how it sounded more like a question than anything else, but he had to say it out loud, to make sure it didn’t feel strange to call his therapist by her first name. On the contrary, it somehow made him feel less tense.

He received a small nod from her, as if she approved of his choice.

“Alright. Now, I got your file from your former therapist, Dr Bennett. But I’ve got to tell you, I'm not a fan of reading someone else’s opinion about my new patients. So, I only read some basic stuff, like the police report, to get a rough outline. But with everything else I'd like to start afresh.”

Harry was pleasantly surprised by that. That meant, she didn’t read the stuff Dr Bennett wrote down about him. This here was a completely new chance.

“That sounds nice.”, he nodded and Maura gave him another warm smile.

“Good. Now, if you’re comfortable with it, I'd like you to tell me, what you think I can help you with.”

Oh wow. That was a heavy question. And a difficult one. Harry frowned, trying to find things to say as fast as possible.

“Take your time. No need to rush. It doesn’t have to be something big. We can also work on small things together. What ever you’d like.”

“I... I can’t sleep through the night because I have nightmares.”, he finally said after some time.

Maura apparently had the ability to write on her notepad without looking down at it. Her hand moved and there were obvious scratching noises from the pen, but she kept her gaze at Harry.

“Alright and those nightmares, are they just about random stuff?”

Harry shook his head. “No. They are... memories.”

“I see. You don’t have to tell me details, except you want to. I think we just gather a few more things you think I can help you with and then we have a look at them, does that sound okay?”

Harry was so perplexed that he was the one who decided what they were talking about, what he wanted and needed help with, that he just stared at Maura for a second. But he shook himself out of it, deciding this was his chance to finally tell someone what bothered him in his daily life.

“Uhm, I panic easily.”

Again, the doctor started to scribble notes, but kept talking and looking right at Harry. “Randomly?”

“Uh, no. Or maybe. But mostly, it’s when I got triggered in some way.”

“So, there is stuff that triggers you?”

Harry nodded.

“And are you aware of what triggers you, or does it take you by surprise  most of the time?”

“Oh, uhm... I know some triggers, like yelling and loud noises or stuff like that. But, uhm, sometimes it’s really surprising as well.”

“Okay. Keep going.”

Harry gnawed on his lip. “Uhm, I’m an addict, you should probably know that as well.”

“Oh, thank you for telling me. Are you okay to talk about your addiction?” Maura seemed totally unfazed by that, which made Harry another tiny bit more comfortable with her.

“I think so, yes.”

“Good to know. What else?”

“Uhm, I have flashbacks.”

“Also caused by certain triggers?”

“Yes. But it’s the most random stuff sometimes.”

“I know it may seem like it, but trust me, we can get those triggers sorted out in no time.”, she winked, while she wrote something down again.

“Does it bother you, when I take notes?”, she then asked, as she saw how Harry stared at the notepad.

“Uhm, no. It’s just funny how you don’t look down to do it.”

She laughed. “I've learned that most people like it better when I give them my full attention, instead of staring at my notepad half of the time.”

“Huh, yeah, I get why.”, Harry nodded.

“Alright, is that all for now? You can always add to the list. If you want to, I'll ask you at the beginning of every session, if there’s something new to add.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds good.”

“Okey-dokey.  So, the first thing you told me, was that you have trouble sleeping, because of nightmares. I have a feeling that this bothers you quite a lot, because you mentioned it before everything else.”

“Yes. It feels like those nightmares are wearing me down. I don’t manage to sleep a lot, because of them. I’m tired all the time. It made me relapse in November.”

“Okay, let’s get to that in two parts. Firstly, can you describe a typical night of yours?”

Harry shrugged with a small nod and told her about his nightly routine of falling asleep, having a nightmare, waking up, having a panic attack and going through all the techniques he learned to calm down again. “And then I stay awake. If I fall back asleep, it’s like my brain just presses play again and I'm right back in the nightmare.”

“Now I get why you're tired all the time. How much sleep do you usually get?”

Harry rubbed over his face, having the feeling that talking about being tired, enhanced that tiredness a great deal. “Sometimes two hours. Most of the time around four hours. On really good nights maybe five.”

“That’s really not enough, you are right about that. You said it made you relapse last year? Do you want to tell me about that?”

“Uhm, yeah, sure.” Harry proceeded to tell her, how he first poured down quite a bit of hard liquor, to sleep through the night and how it all lead to the debacle, where his mum found out and he pissed off to London to get high.

“And since then? Any relapses?”

Harry was proud to say no, doing it with his head held high.

“Very good. Never hesitate to contact me, if you feel like you need my support regarding that matter, okay? I'm basically on-call 24/7 for you.”

“For me?”, he repeated, feeling like that add-on needed some clarification.

“Yes. For you and a few other of my patients, who may need me outside of these sessions.”, she smiled. It was a nice way of saying that Harry was a nutcase, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Okay, uhm, thanks.”

“You mentioned you go through your techniques, when you wake up and have a panic attack. You sounded a bit deprecatingly in regards to them. Am I right?”

Harry scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Uhm, yeah. Sometimes they just feel stupid. Like, it feels like I'm dying and I’m supposed to list three things I can smell? Pfff.”

Maura laughed heartily, shaking her head slightly. “I get what you’re saying. The main point of those exercises is to distract and ground yourself. If you keep on focussing on the fact that you feel like you can’t breathe, it will be a lot harder to calm down, or even make you panic more. Do you understand that?”

And really, why did Dr Bennett never bother to explain it in simple words like this? He just kept telling Harry to simply do it.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Does that mean, I can do anything that distracts me?”

“Basically, yes. Some people need a more gentle approach, other people literally prefer a cold shower. It’s whatever works best for you, Harry.”

“A cold shower?”

“Yes. There are different potential benefits. First of all, the cold shock response is often enough to distract you so thoroughly, that you get back to a state of mental clarity very easily. It stimulates your blood flow, which improves circulation and your oxygen intake. It also releases endorphins. Those are the feel-good hormones.”

“Huh, maybe I should try that. I mean, I’d have to get to the shower first, but it sounds like it’s worth a try.”

“You can try it without having a panic attack first and look how it makes you feel.”, Maura suggested and Harry nodded eagerly.

That sounded like the method he had been searching for. If it somehow shocked him out of the attack in seconds, that sounded like something he should try.

“Okay. I will totally try that.”

“Okay.” The therapist smiled. “I have another suggestion, which might help with your nightmares. It is often used with people who have nightmares as a result of PTSD. It is called imagery rehearsal therapy. Basically, you give your nightmare a new ending.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, but he listened intently, because everything that might help him sleep was welcome.

“I know, it sounds like it’s too basic to do anything, but it’s proven that it can reduce the frequency of nightmares. It also may help you with going back to sleep.”

“I'll do anything to sleep, really.”, Harry chuckled mirthlessly.

“I get that. Now what you want to do is, think of your nightmare, which may be uncomfortable, I know. But you want to concentrate on changing the outcome. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Hmm, so if I dreamed about someone... uhm, hurting me, I change that to... I don’t know, someone comes in and puts a stop to it, before anything can happen?”

“Yes, exactly. You need to concentrate on it, making the new ending just as vivid in your mind as the nightmare, but if you practice doing it, it may improve your sleep experience.”

Harry was in awe. He was only in this room for maybe half an hour and he already learned about two new things that could really help him.

“I will definitely try to do this.”

“Okay, good. Now how about a little break? Do you want a tea, Harry?”, she asked, after she put down her notes on the little table next to her.

That took him by surprise once again. “Uhm, yes, sure. Thank you.”

Maura got up and went to a cupboard, which hid a whole kitchenette inside.

Harry watched Maura go through the motion of preparing them both a cup of tea, wondering why this therapy session felt so immensely different to all the ones he had before. He had to really rack his brain for an answer, but it suddenly came to him. Maura didn’t ask him to talk about details of his trauma once. With Doctor Bennett, he’d been forced over and over to talk about the gory details, about specific events that made Harry sick to the bone. But up until now, Maura let Harry decide the course of their conversation. He liked that very, very much. It felt like he could decide when and if he was ready to talk about heavier stuff. It felt less like torture and more like he could go here without dreading the experience.

“Milk or sugar, Harry?”

“Just as splash of milk, thank you.”

He received his cup and Maura sat back down in her armchair again, holding her cup with both hands, watching him over the rim.

“So, Harry. I heard from my son that you live with a friend of his.”

“Oh. Uhm, yes. I moved in with Louis a week ago.”

Maura grinned and it somehow didn’t feel like talking to a therapist in this moment. More like talking to the mother of a mate, who was eager to hear some gossip. “And how’s it going? Do you like it?”

“Yes, I think so. Uhm, Louis and I get along quite well.”

“Really?”, she smiled and Harry didn’t know why, but somehow he felt like he could tell her.

“Yes. I, uhm, we kissed last night.”

Maura was straight up beaming at him now, while Harry felt himself blush.

“That’s lovely, Harry. I know Louis, he's a good lad. Don’t tell him, I told you, but Niall said he’s completely taken with you.”, she said with a wink.

It made Harry’s heart flutter like crazy. He knew about Louis’s feelings, but hearing it from other people, made it so much more real. And it was also nice, that his therapist approved of Louis. Dr Bennett had been much more hesitant in that matter.

“I am as well. I mean, Louis is the one person I trust with basically everything.”

“Look at your smile. I think that’s the first real one since you came through the door.”

Harry blushed even further and took a gulp of his tea, which was still a bit too hot, but it was a sufficient distraction.

“Hold on to that feeling, Harry.”, she said earnestly, even though she was still smiling. “You don’t know how incredibly important it can be. You can label it as anything you like, but I always say that love is the most important thing we have. As long as we have someone to love and someone who loves us back, we can master anything. It can teach us to love ourselves again.”

Harry remained silent, just letting the words roll through his mind. They sounded poetic. Beautiful. It was a nice concept, that Harry’s and Louis’s love could teach Harry to love himself again someday. It made him smile absently.

When Harry left the room, he was feeling the polar opposite of all the times he left Doctor Bennett’s office. Maura seemed like a wonderful empathic person, whose main goal it was to give Harry all the tools he needed to become better by himself. In his head, that was a nice thought. He didn’t go to therapy, to be cured by someone. He went here to do it by himself. It was empowering, uplifting.

He walked back into the reception area, to see that Louis and Cathy were sitting together in the small lounge, chatting animatedly. A girlish giggle echoed through the space and he saw Cathy lean closer to Louis, showing off her cleavage under the cover of patting his knee. He couldn’t see Louis' reaction, because his back was facing Harry, but he didn’t move his knee away and still laughed.

Harry didn’t like it. He wasn’t proud of it, but there seemed to be a little jealous monster living inside of his chest and it now lifted it’s ugly head to scream at Harry to do something right now. And Harry agreed. He should do something.

That overwhelming feeling of jealousy, paired with the confident feeling, he left his first therapy session with, was enough to make him stride across the room, stepping right between Cathy and Louis, knocking her arm from Louis’ knee with his leg while doing so and turned to look down at Louis. The doctor looked up at him with a look of surprise.

“I'm ready, can we go?”, he asked, completely ignoring Cathy behind him.

Now Louis’ eyebrows furrowed slightly, probably at Harry’s brusque tone, but he nodded nevertheless.

“Sure, love.”

Harry turned and walked briskly over to the lift, to hammer his finger on the button a few times. He could hear Louis saying goodbye to Cathy and he pressed his lips together.

The door of the lift opened and he stepped inside, seeing that Louis caught up and got in beside him. He avoided eye contact, looking straight ahead, which unfortunately made him see how Cathy waved at them with a bright smile. Would it be too much if he flipped her the bird? Probably, he planned of returning to this place after all.

The doors closed and he could see, out of the corner of his eyes, how Louis turned towards him.

“Darling, what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Babe, it’s written all over your face. Tell me, please.”

Harry huffed out some breath. “You and that Cathy-person were flirting.”

Silence, then Louis was the one to huff out a long sigh. “Harry, you do know that I'm gay, right?”

Harry didn’t answer, simply staring at the display above the door, which indicated which floor they were on.

“Hey, babe.”, Louis said softly. “I mean it. I am gay and I mean completely and utterly homosexual.”

Harry couldn’t prevent his lips from twitching into a tiny smile.

The doors opened and Louis grasped his hand. “And I'm not interested in anyone else, except you, you know.” His tone was almost casual now. “If Cathy had been a man, which she is clearly not, I wouldn’t have been interested. Not at all. Because hello, have you looked at yourself?”

Now Harry couldn’t help but grin blatantly.

“But I must really say, I'm flattered. Also, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

Now Harry turned his head, shooting Louis a fake frown, his mouth not getting the memo and smiled on.

The older man grinned at him, lifting Harry’s hand to kiss the back of it.

They left the building hand in hand, both of them smiling goofily.

Chapter Text

“Hey, babe?”, Louis asked, poking Harry’s cheek with his index finger.

“Hmm?”, Harry hummed, his mind dancing contently between the real world and sleep. It was just too comfortable on Louis’ chest and as he was lying here for quite some time now, pretending to watch the movie Louis decided on, it was hard to stay awake.

“The boys are all free this Saturday and I've got the early shift and as you know, Sunday's my day off. They’re asking to meet.”

“Hm?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come along.”

That woke Harry up properly. He lifted his head, looking at his human pillow with raised eyebrows.

“You want me to come along?”

“Yes, of course I do. I mean, we normally meet at the pub, but I'm sure it would be no problem to meet here or at one of the boy’s homes instead. They all told me that they want to see you.”

“They do?”, Harry asked, being a bit sceptical of the whole thing. He didn’t want to ruin their night, just because he wasn’t ready to go out to a pub yet. He wasn’t, was he?

“Why can’t we still do it at the pub?”, he questioned slowly.

It was Louis’s turn to raise his eyebrows and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, before he said: “Well, to be fair, love, your mother made it very, very clear I’m supposed to keep you away from any alcohol, as well as drugs, soooo...”

Harry shook his head slightly. “Well, to be fair, Lou, you know that I don’t really have a problem with alcohol. I drank one bottle of tequila and it was only as a substitute for the drugs I was craving. I drank it to sleep. If you take me to a pub, I hardly would be  inclined to drink something.”

Louis made a face and Harry knew this would take some persuasion.

“Darling, going to a pub wouldn’t only mean being around lots of alcohol. It would mean many people, loud noises, a myriad of things that might trigger you. Don’t you think that would be a tat too hasty?” His voice was calm and gentle, to soothe Harry, which worked partly.

The boy still pouted. “But the others will think I'm annoying, if you change the place, just because of me. And I want to go to a pub. I've never been to a pub with friends.”

That made Louis smile kindly, stroking through Harry’s loose hair, which almost evoked the urge to purr in him.

“Firstly, they won’t think you’re annoying. Not at all. If you’re sure you don’t have a problem with being around alcohol, they can still have a drink here. They're not the type to be bothered by something like this, believe me. And I promise you, we will go to a pub together. But maybe not just now, yeah?”

Harry eyed Louis’ face, seeing nothing but honesty there. And if he thought about it again, Louis might be right. It may be a bit early to go out into the nightlife again. One step at a time. Considering it all again, meeting three of Louis' closest friends, was nerve-racking enough, he didn’t need to add all the risk factors of visiting a pub and possibly having a panic attack and/or flashback in front of everybody.

“Yeah, okay.”, he relented, letting his head fall back down to the warm chest below him.

“Good. I’ll let them know. Are you okay with doing it here or do you want a change of scenery? Zayn’s place is really nice as well.”

“Let’s do it here. This way I can flee to my room and hide if I embarrass myself.”

“Why would you- No, never mind. You won’t embarrass yourself, that’s it.”

“How can you be sure of that? I haven’t met anyone's friends since I was sixteen. I'm a bit out of practice.”, he asked, starting to play with the fabric of Lou's jumper.

“Harry, that’s bullshit and you know that.”, the doctor chided him gently. “You're a lovely person and you know Zayn and Liam already. They like you. And it doesn’t take much to win Niall over.”

“Hmm.”, he sighed, wiggling his head, to make Louis move his hand again, which was lying still on the back of Harry’s head at the moment.

He felt the vibration of laughter in Louis’ upper body, but the doctor resumed to graze his fingers through Harry’s hair, sometimes lingering at a spot to scratch lightly.

A content smile spread over his face and he closed his eyes again.

“I love your hair. It’s so soft.”, Louis murmured after a while.

“Would you still like it, if I cut it?”

Louis’ hands stilled for a moment. “Of course I would. Do you want to cut it?”

Harry sluggishly shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought about it. It’s getting quite long. And... I mean, I don’t mind it, I'm so used to it by now, but it wasn’t really my decision to grow it out. Simon just told me one day that he didn’t want Cara to cut my hair any longer and that was that. I sometimes got her to cut the tips in secret in the bathroom, but we couldn’t chop it off, or Simon would notice. He said it made me look pretty. Girlish. He liked to pull on it, when...” Harry stopped himself, feeling his mind scatter, images of memories battering into him from all sides. Now the feeling of Louis hand on his head suddenly felt nauseating, like a threat. In a rush, Harry sat up, getting some distance between them with a stifled groan.

“Babe?”

He shook his head, hoping Louis would get that he couldn’t answer right now. With every passing second, the memories got more vivid. He could feel the pain on his scalp, where Simon used to pull his hair. He could hear the disgusting things the man used to say. His grunts and moans when he pushed Harry down onto his cock. He could taste him.

That was the worst of it. Harry could taste and smell Simon in that moment, his signature scent of laundry detergent, sweat, cigarette smoke and some old men's cologne.

He could feel the bile rising in his throat.

He shook his head wildly, trying to take a breath that wasn’t soiled with the memory of that disgusting man.

“Harry!”, a familiar voice said urgently, very close to him.

He turned his head and saw Louis with a disturbed expression hovering next to him.

“Harry focus on me. It’s a flashback. It’s not real.”

What he just experienced wasn’t real! It was a flashback.

To some degree, that realisation helped. It got him back into the here and now. That didn’t mean that he could simply laugh it off. Not at all.

He felt sick to the bone and he was fighting against his own body to keep himself from throwing up. His pulse was racing and cold sweat was covering his whole body.

It had been a flashback. It hadn’t been real just now. But it had been real back then.

“Babe, breathe. Look around you. You’re home. You’re safe. You’re with me.”

His eyes flitted through the flat’s living room. Louis was right. He was definitely home.

“Look at me, darling. Match my breathing.”

Harry watched Louis take deep measured breaths, but it was quite hard to do the same when his heart was beating a mile a minute.

“It’s alright, babe. You’re here with me. You already survived this. You’re safe with me.”, Louis gently repeated over and over and this coupled with his calming presence, eventually got Harry to a point where he felt back in control of his own body. He nodded jerkily at Louis a couple of times, to show him that he was present again, that he was listening.

It made Louis smile brightly. “See? You’re okay. You’re doing so good, darling. I'm proud of you.”

Hearing praise after a flashback was nice. Sometimes Harry asked himself how Louis always knew so perfectly what Harry needed, because he seemed to always do and say the exact right things.

“Thanks.”, he huffed out with a long breath.

Lou kept his distance, obviously cautious not to touch Harry just yet.

“Bad memory, hm?”

The boy nodded in agreement.

“Do you want your journal to write it down?”

Louis asked this, because this was one of the homeworks he got from Maura. Every time something triggered him into a flashback or panic attack, he was to write that trigger down.

He nodded and Louis slowly got up to retrieve the leather-bound notebook from Harry’s room, obviously trying not to make any sudden movements.

Harry took the opportunity to count his breaths again, making sure to calm down as much as possible.

“Here, love.” Louis returned and held the book towards him, as well as a pen.

Gratefully, Harry took it and opened it. It already contained a few triggers, but he felt like this one, that he was about to write down, was extra stupid. Of course Harry couldn’t just talk casually about getting used by Simon. Why did he even do that? In hindsight, that was pretty dumb.

• Talking about giving Simon head is triggering. Surprise. 

He scoffed at himself and closed the notebook, putting it neatly on the coffee table in front of him.

“Sorry, Lou. That was really unnecessary.”

“What do you mean, love?”

Harry scoffed again, turning himself, so his whole body was facing Louis.

“I mean, why did I even have to say those things? It’s plain as a pikestaff that talking about that would trigger me, right? So, that was pretty unnecessary if you ask me.”

That made Louis frown and shake his head. “No, that's not true. If you ask me, you talked about similar things a few times already and it didn’t trigger you into a flashback. Also, if you feel like talking about something, you can. I'll always be here for you, darling, flashback or not.”

Harry nodded, even though he didn’t quite agree with Louis words. If he could avoid having a flashback and therefore avoid destroying a perfect moment with Lou, he felt like he should definitely do that.

“Ready for a hug or do you still need a moment?”

“Hug.”, Harry nodded and a moment later he was engulfed by the doctor’s strong arms again, which made him finally shake off that last bit of panic he felt.

Harry stood in the lobby of the building he now called his home and gnawed nervously on both of his lips. This would be the first time he'd leave the flat on his own. He didn’t know why he made such a fuss out of this all of a sudden, but it made him nervous. He was aware of how idiotic that was. He walked the streets of London thousands of times.

“Get yourself together.”, he muttered to himself and then forced his legs to start moving.

He opened the building's door and was hit with the sounds of the city. Nothing to panic about. He knew those sounds. He knew that bloody city. And he knew this neighbourhood. He tried to settle himself with a deep breath and then stepped out into the daylight. It wasn’t sunny, but it wasn’t raining either. The sky was covered with a thin veil of clouds, that made everything seem a bit misty. But he didn’t expect blooming spring just yet, as it was only early April.

He strode along the sidewalk, bypassing and sidestepping other pedestrians, who seemed relatively unbusy, but that wasn’t surprising for Saturday noon. Still, Harry felt  rushed, or hounded more like. It was like he was expecting someone to step out in front of him to grab him, to bring him back to Simon.

“He's in jail. He's in jail. He's in jail...”, Harry murmured quietly, without moving his lips too much. This newfound fear of leaving the flat on his own annoyed him. Didn’t he have enough problems to deal with? To some degree he could explain it to himself with the fact that he experienced a lot of bad things in the streets surrounding him. He had to work here, being hurt and degraded on more than one occasion. But this was in the fucking past now! He wasn’t a whore anymore. He wasn’t Simon’s slave any longer. Still, he felt unsafe.  

But Harry pushed on, walking towards Tottenham Court Road, to where he knew a Sainsbury's was located. He relaxed somewhat the longer he walked, because nothing was happening to him. No one cared that he was here.

It was all going relatively well, until Harry passed by a pub. Two burly men stood outside on the sidewalk, smoking. Just as Harry was level with them, one of them catcalled after the woman, who walked in front of Harry and subsequently blew the smoke of his cigarette right into Harry’s face.

He felt his muscles tense. He stood there stock still and his mind was slipping away from him once again.

Simon pressed his burning cigarette into Harry’s skin. Over and over and over... It hurt. He screamed and was told to shut up. He screamed, but didn’t dare to move an inch. Simon told him to stay still or there would be worse consequences. But he couldn’t shut up. It hurt too much. Simon was relighting the cigarette to take a puff, blowing the smoke right into Harry’s face. Then he lowered the stub to his skin again with a smirk. It hurt. It hurt...

“Oi, boy, what’s the matter with you, eh?”, someone shouted.

It made Harry flinch like crazy. Thankfully, he was still on his feet, even though he was shaking all over. He needed to get out of here. He needed to find a safe space to calm down. Fuck. He was so fucked.

He looked around, his eyes moving almost too rapidly for him to really see anything.

“What’s up with that one?”, the same male voice asked and Harry turned, to see the two men, who catcalled after the woman, stare at him like he was a curiosity that belonged inside a museum.

The fleeting thought of asking them for help crossed his mind, but he quickly thought better of it, when one of them lifted their cigarette again, about to take another puff. He had to get away from this massive trigger.

He stumbled backwards, colliding with a bypassing woman, who scowled at him.

He didn’t have the capacity to apologise at the moment. He needed a quiet safe space to calm down.

He looked around himself again, feeling so desperate, tears were starting to build up in his eyes.

Then his gaze flitted over the storefront of a café on the other side of the street.

Without thinking really, he walked into the traffic, reaching the other side unscathed, which was a miracle really. He pushed the café's door open and tried to locate the restrooms.

“Hi, welcome, how can I help you?”, a happy voice trilled and to Harry’s regret he’d been spotted by the woman behind the counter.

Harry hesitated, going through his options. If he left the shop, he could end up in a complete panic attack, that got so bad that people maybe called an ambulance or the police. But he couldn’t quite communicate what he needed right now. He just needed a place to sit down, to breathe and not be battered by too many stimuli.

He saw how the face of the girl behind the counter slowly turned from implausibly happy to concerned.

“Are you okay?”

Harry shook his head. Fuck his pride, he needed help.

“Do you maybe want to sit down? You look about to collapse.”, she offered kindly, pointing at the different sitting accommodations.

But there were people. People who were staring at him. Of course he couldn’t really blame them. He must look a mess, sweating like crazy, shaking and on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Uhm, you know what? Come around here. You can sit down in the back.” She now motioned for him to come around the counter and he wouldn’t say no to that.

He hurriedly stumbled towards her, making his way around the counter and followed her to a small room in the back, that was more storage room than anything else. But it contained a table with two chairs and she pulled one of them out for him.

He collapsed in it, leaning back to open his airways a bit more.

“Do you have asthma? Do you need an inhaler?”, she asked, obviously more and more concerned by Harry’s state.

“No.”, he wheezed out.

“Uhm, shall I call you an ambulance?”

“No!”, he wheezed out, even more distressed by that suggestion. “Panic... attack.” He pointed at himself and the girl’s face lit up with understanding.

“Ohhhh. Okay. You're supposed to breathe, right?”

Harry almost laughed, because it was a bit funny, how innocently she said that. Harry was breathing, only too fast. But he nodded for her sake, closing his eyes to concentrate.

“Yeah, uh, good, take deep breaths now.” It seemed like the blonde woman was really trying her best now to sound calming and Harry appreciated it. She was a complete stranger and still she tried to help him. She threw the standard phrases at him, telling him to calm down, to breathe deeply, to match her breathing. She sounded almost like a broken record of a meditation guide, but surprisingly her consistency paid off. It gave Harry something to focus on. Those sentences were familiar.

Eventually, he was able to take a deep, deep breath and nodded at the girl, to show her that she could stop.

“Oh, you’re better now? Great! Phew, what a relief! I almost thought you'd pass out or something.”

“Sorry.”, Harry said, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“Oh, no worries! It happens, I guess. I'm Evelyn by the way.”

“Harry.”, he offered and he was rewarded by another one of those huge smiles, that just couldn’t be real. No one was that happy.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. Do you want a glass of water? Or a juice maybe? You can stay here, if you want to, I just have to go and check if everything’s alright out front.” Harry now realised, that when Evelyn wasn’t making an effort to sound calming, she was talking very fast.

“A water would be nice, thank you.”, he said, glad that he was finally able again to string a whole sentence together.

“I’ll get you one, wait.” And with that she was skipping away, turning twice on her way to grin at Harry.

What a peculiar person. He decided he liked her.

Harry took out his phone, to check the time. It was still only half past 12, so he still got enough time to calm down and then hopefully get the groceries he needed for tonight’s get-together. He wouldn’t tell Lou anything about his little freak-out session. At least not now. Harry just knew that if he learned that Harry had a breakdown in the middle of the street, he’d call everything off, to make sure Harry got the rest he needed.

Evelyn now returned, holding a big glass of ice water in her hand. “Here you go. You do look like you need it. Looks like you just ran a marathon or something.”

He huffed out a small laugh, as he received the glass, because her way of just saying what she was thinking was kind of refreshing.

“Thank you. Also for helping me. That was very kind of you.”

She was waving her hand, like she wanted to shoo away a fly. “Oh, don’t worry about that. My nan always says that if you do something good, you get it right back. And I think that’s totally true. If you’re nice, people are nice back to you, right?”

Harry looked at her, thinking that Evelyn might be a unicorn. How did she grow up and stayed as innocent as a little kid?

“Right.”, he nodded, feeling a bit lost for words.

She beamed at him, motioning at his glass for him to drink something, which he promptly did.

“I think I'm okay now. What do you get for the water?”, Harry said, standing up, realising how he towered over Evelyn. So much happiness packed into such a small body. Unbelievable.

“Nothing, it’s just water! I'm just glad I could help you.” Yup, definitely a unicorn.

“Then thank you again. I really hope you receive that kindness right back, like your nan says.”

“Oh, definitely!”, she grinned.

She led Harry back out into the front, where they parted ways with another round of smiling and thank yous from Harry.

He left the café feeling weirdly refreshed. Not that he couldn’t still feel the aftermath of his panic attack, the sweat-damp jumper that clung to his backside was a constant reminder, but it had been nice to see such positivity. Maybe he’d return here next week or so, to have another chat with Evelyn.

He got to the supermarket without any further hiccups, being very careful to watch out for any smokers on his way. This was definitely a thing he should bring up with Maura. Everything about today was something to bring up to Maura.

Harry got his groceries, hurried back home and was very glad when he finally closed the flat’s door behind him.

What a ride.

He busied himself sorting away all the stuff he bought  and then started to prepare everything for the upcoming evening. When he was busy, he couldn’t overthink.

He was in the throes of putting little circular dough cut-outs into a muffin tin, for the mini-quiches he planned to serve alongside the filled pizza rolls and the cupcakes he already made, when he heard a key in the front door.

“Hey babe, I'm home!”

Hearing that always made Harry smile, no matter what. It felt so incredibly domestic. More like an old married couple, than two guys who lived together, kissed a few times and didn’t even have a word for their relationship yet.

Louis came in, still wearing his scrubs, like he sometimes did when he made an effort to get home very quickly. Or when he was too worn out by his work to realise he forgot to change.

Harry guessed it was the first option, because Louis was all smiles and still looked fresh.

“Hey, Lou.”, he smiled.

“Hey, wow wow wow, what’s all this, love?”, the doctor asked, as soon as he saw the chaos in the kitchen.

“Uhm, I made cupcakes. And filled pizza rolls. And now I'm making mini-quiches. Uh, for tonight?”, Harry explained, suddenly questioning if he overdid it.

Louis wrenched his eyes open in surprise, coming over to Harry’s side to see what he was doing. “Babe! You didn’t have to! We could've ordered something! And honestly, they would’ve been happy with some peanuts! Wow! I mean, you made what? Cupcakes?”, Louis ranted, being visibly blown away by what Harry prepared.

“They're in the fridge.” He pointed over to said fridge and Louis immediately stepped over to open it and have a look.

“Fuck me, you're taking the piss now! You didn’t make them yourself! Look at how pretty they are!”

Harry’s face got very hot and he had to turn away to hide the little satisfied grin on his face.

“God, they look delicious! Can I try one?”

Harry threw all caution to the wind and hurried over to Lou, to explain which cupcake was which favour, satisfied expression ingrained on his face or not.

Louis chose one of the ones with lemon buttercream icing, bit into it immediately and straight out moaned.

Now Harry’s face, including his ears, were on fire. He never heard Louis making a sound like that and he couldn’t help but think that this might be the way the older man sounded in bed.

“Oh my god, babe!”, Louis moaned, rolling his eyes back in delight. “That’s so good.”

Having that visual in addition to Louis more than satisfied sounding voice, was too much for Harry to handle.

A strange high-pitched giggle escaped his mouth, before he turned and quickly returned to his work station, picking up another dough circle.

He heard Louis coming nearer and then coming to a halt right next to him. “You okay there?”

“Mm-hmm.”, Harry nodded, still sounding weird.

“It was the moan, wasn’t it?”, Louis asked and Harry closed his eyes in embarrassment.

“Let’s not talk about it?”

“Sure.”, Louis laughed and Harry was glad because after everything he went through today he didn’t feel like he had the capacity for a flirty subject like that.

“Can I help you with something?”, Louis asked to change the topic, pushing the last, a bit too large, piece of cupcake into his mouth.

Harry gave him a side-eye. “Last time you tried to help me, you fucked it all up, Lou.”

“Well, I wasn’t really trying then.”, was the doctors sassy reply.

Harry shook his head with a laugh. “Just go take a shower. I'm nearly done preparing everything anyways.”

“Alright, alright. But hey.”, Louis said and Harry turned his head to see what Louis wanted.

The man leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth. His knees almost buckled.

“Thanks for doing all this.”

“No problem.”, Harry smiled, biting his tongue, because he knew what Lou would say, if he told him the reason for all this. He just felt like he had to make the evening enjoyable for everyone, because they were missing out on their usual pub-shenanigans. Of course Louis would tell him again, how it was perfectly fine for everyone to stay in and meet here at home. But Harry still couldn’t help himself. He just had to try and make it a tiny bit more special.

“I'll be in the shower, if you need me.”, the doctor smiled, leaving Harry to his mini-quiches.

“Don’t forget to wash between your toes.”, Harry joked, imitating his own mother.

It made Louis laugh out loud, which made Harry smile in return. He loved that sound. He loved that man. Maybe he'd be brave enough some time to tell him that.

Chapter Text

“Oh my god, Harold, sit down, please. You're making me nervous and there is absolutely no need to be nervous.”, Louis said, sitting on the couch and following Harry with his eyes, as he darted back and forth between the kitchen area and the coffee table, to rearrange the set up of snacks again.

Harry shot him a look. “My name's not Harold. That was a fake name. You know that.” Then he resumed pushing the bowl full of crisps further to the right.

Louis threw his head back in exasperation, rolling his eyes back with a groan. “Yes I know, but you're acting like a Harold.”

Harry looked up, eyebrows rising slowly. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know! All I know is that I need you to sit down now. Please. Everything looks fine, awesome even. It looks like a fucking event planner set up the whole thing.”

That made Harry positively beam, looking around the room. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now please, come here and sit, okay?”, Louis pleaded, tapping on the spot next to him.

With a somewhat proud smile, Harry relented and let himself fall into the sofa cushions.

“Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome.”, the boy smiled.

“You look lovely by the way.” Now Louis' voice was really soft, making the butterflies in Harry’s belly flutter their wings.

He turned, leaning closer to press a kiss to Louis lips. He made a point of kissing him every time he felt like the endorphins in his body were bubbling over. In those moments, it was incredibly easy. He was happy, he was in love and he was a-okay with kissing Lou.

The older man sighed happily into the kiss, turning his head slightly to slot their lips even more perfectly together. The movement let Harry feel the slight stubble on Louis' chin. He came to the conclusion, a few kisses ago, that he had a thing for Louis’ beard. Why, he didn’t quite know, but he found it immensely attractive.

The shrill sound of the door bell made them part abruptly, but Louis shook his head and closed the distance between them again for another few seconds, as if he wanted to end the kiss on their own terms.

It was Harry who drew away, simply because he was becoming increasingly nervous and he thought it was kind of rude to let the person downstairs wait, simply because they were snogging.

“I’ll get the door.”, Louis winked, after he caressed Harry’s cheek one last time.

“Okay.”, Harry nodded, barely suppressing a overly loud gulp, you often saw in comics, where they wanted to depict that the character was on edge.

He watched Louis leave the room and then waited, playing with the tassels of the throw blanket next to him.

It didn’t take long, then he heard the boisterous greetings of more than two people. It was at least two other voices than Louis’s and Harry wished they would have come one at a time. That way he would have had time to acclimatise, before the next person. But he had to take it as it came. He forcibly reminded himself that Louis said that they liked him. No need to freak out.

Footsteps and then the doctor came in, closely followed by Liam and a younger man with bright blue eyes. Harry knew how Niall looked, because Louis had shown him some pictures, some of them more than suitable to act as a blackmailing method.

He stood up to greet them, trying to wipe his sweaty hands on his jeans.

The first one to come over was Liam, after he handed over a bag to Louis that made funny clinking sounds, that made its content quite clear.

“Hey Harry. Good to see you again! You look great!”, Liam smiled, his kind eyes locked with Harry’s.

“Oh, thanks Liam. Good to see you.”, Harry nodded and after Liam extended his hand and Harry went for a hug, they ended up in a manly half-hug. Of course, this made Harry’s cheeks pinken up, because there was not much that was as awkward as going for different kinds of greetings.

“Come on, Payno, step aside. It’s my turn to finally meet the mystery man that makes our Lou-Lou so bewitched.”

Liam rolled his eyes, but stepped aside with a little grin, making space for Niall. The Irishman stepped closer and gave Harry a onceover, nodding seriously. “Okay, okay I totally get it now. It’s very nice to meet you, beautiful Harry.” He topped it all of with a little bow in Harry’s direction . Harry had to say, normally he would have felt uncomfortable by being scrutinised like that, but Niall had this boyish charme that probably would let him get away with murder.

So Harry was only a little perplexed. “Oh, uhm...”, he made, unsure how to act or answer really.

He was saved by Louis, who had put down the clinking bag and came over  making a show of rolling his eyes. “Niall, I told you not to be annoying the second you meet him.” The doctor huffed and motioned between Harry and Niall. “Harry this is Niall, Niall, this is Harry. Now shake hands like normal people, huh?” The last suggestion went in Niall’s direction.

The Irishman shrugged, completely unperturbed and held out his hand for Harry to shake with a gleaming smile. “Alright, alright, then let's do it the conservative way.”

Harry took his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Finally.”, Niall laughed and that was that.

After that, the two visitors made it clear to Louis that the contents of the bag had to be put in the fridge. It turned out to be two sixpacks of Stella and two bottles of wine.

“Zayn’s bringing the rest.”, Liam informed them.

It somehow made Harry happy that they brought alcohol. Not because he was planning on drinking it, but because it meant Louis trusted his judgement and told them to bring it.

“What’s all this?”, Niall asked and pointed at the kitchen counter, that held the entirety of Harry’s food preparations.

“Oh, Harry made some stuff for you guys. The cupcakes are awesome by the way.”, Louis explained, shooting a fond smile at Harry.

Niall turned to Harry, who still lingered by the sofa, unsure what to do, except blush. “You're officially my new favourite person, Harry.”

“Have I mentioned that Niall loves everyone who cooks for him?”, Louis laughed and instead of being offended, Niall nodded.

“That’s true. Homemade food is the best. And honestly, that stuff over there looks great... Do I have to wait for Zayn to have a bite?”

“Yes.”, Liam and Louis said in unison, which made Niall flip them off.

The doorbell rang through the flat.

“Lucky me.”, the Irishman laughed.

“I’ll get it.”, Harry told Louis, who was currently trying to stack the beer into the fridge.

“Thanks, love.”

Zayn came down the hallway, carrying another two sixpacks of beer, smiling brightly at Harry.

“Hey, how're you doing?”

Harry shrugged as he stepped aside to let the police officer inside. “I'm okay. How are you?”

“I’m happy to see you, so good.”, he smiled and Harry felt a burst of warmth spread through his chest. Zayn was becoming something like a brother figure in Harry’s head, even though they haven’t seen each other that often. But still, Zayn felt like how a big brother should be. Kind and protective.

“The other’s are in the living room.”, Harry said, pointing towards the door.

“Aight, let’s go then.”

Harry ended up sitting at the far end of the sofa, Louis right beside him. Everyone was snacking on Harry’s little buffet, talking over each other and laughing loudly. As far as Harry was concerned, observing quietly, while holding his alcohol-free wine, was enough for the moment. It was a bit like being the nerdy kid in a movie, who was somehow invited to the popular kid’s party. He felt a bit out of place, but incredibly lucky to be there at the same time. Maybe he just needed a moment or two, to thaw. He also kind of wanted to speak to Louis for a second, because the doctor had refused to accept a beer and had currently a glass of coke in front of him. Harry wanted Lou to have fun with his friends, not miss out because of him. But it would seem strange to ask Louis for a private audience right now, so Harry kept his mouth shut and simply listened to the different conversations.

“But who was that singer again? You know the one with I kissed a girl and I liked iiiiiit?”, Liam asked, snipping his finger rapidly, as if it would help him find the answer. Harry didn’t even know the context, but he did know the answer.

“Katy Perry.”

“Yes, Katy Perry! Thank you, Harry!”, Liam said enthusiastically. “She was wearing that coat and then Maya saw it in a magazine and she just had to have it and you know her. She got it from her own money, before I could even suggest to buy it for her. And that was what this comment was about, not me being a bad husband, Zayn.”

Zayn snorted, which made Liam punch him in the arm, but without any force and both man laughed afterwards.

“Hey, how's it going with my mam?”, Niall suddenly addressed Harry and it felt a bit like someone moved a giant spotlight on him. Somehow, Louis seemed to sense his discomfort and lay a hand on his knee, softly caressing it with his thumb. It was  as if Louis was telling Harry that he was there for him and that he had no need to freak out. Harry leaned a few centimetres to the right, making his side touch Lou's body, giving him further comfort.

“Okay, I think? She is a very lovely person. I like her.”

“Yeah? She makes a point of not telling me anything, because she says she has to uphold doctor-patient confidentiality and I'm a blabbermouth.”

Harry had a hard time not to laugh at Niall’s pouty face. “Oh, uh, that’s-“

“Right. Your mother is right, Nialler and you know that. You are a blabbermouth.”, Louis interrupted Harry’s pour attempt to answer in a non-insulting way.

Niall gasped, clutching his figurative pearls. “Take that back, Lou-Lou! Or I'll tell Harry what me mam said about you.”

Louis threw his head back and laughed. “I'm pretty sure Maura already spilled the whole tea on me, didn’t she babe?”

Harry blushed a bit, remembering the countless comments on Louis' infatuation with him made by his therapist. “Maybe.”, he said sheepishly.

Both, Niall and Louis, laughed. “She totally did. I know my mam. She can’t help it sometimes.”

“It was all very nice stuff.”, Harry tried to reassure Louis, but the doctor didn’t seemed to be fazed one bit.

“Of course it was, babe.”, he winked and Harry had to grin a bit himself.

I got late and Niall, Liam and Zayn had managed it to drink every last beer and broke open both bottles of wine. Louis didn’t touch any alcohol, except for the one glass of wine he was currently holding. None of the boys had questioned this, so Harry suspected that Louis had briefed them before, via text or something. He was pretty sure they all had a WhatsApp group, because they mentioned it a few times throughout the evening.

“Dating sucks.”, Niall sighed now, looking forlorn and leaning his head against Zayn’s shoulder, who patted him awkwardly on the head.

“Don’t give up hope, Nialler, there's one for you out there as well. You'll find her when you're not even looking.”, Liam said kindly.

“Easy for you to say. You already found your dream-woman.”, the Irishman pouted.

“It’s true, Ni. Stop looking and you'll stumble over her in no time. It works.”, Louis chimed in, turning to Harry to give him a secret little smile, that made the boy blush and bite his lip, because he totally wanted to kiss Louis now. But he wasn’t really ready to do it in front of somebody else. For now, that was something private. He barely could handle it, when Louis called him pet names so casually, he just kept on blushing like an abashed little schoolgirl.

“Don’t get me wrong you guys, I'm really happy for you that you found your significant other, but I hate you.”, Niall sulked, pouting harder than ever.

They all laughed at him and that made Niall eventually smile a bit.

“I think it’s time to bring that sad little baby home.”, Liam laughed, pouring the last bit of wine down his throat.

Niall flipped Liam off, but didn’t protest when Zayn told him that they could split an Uber, as they needed to head in the same direction anyways. Liam needed to go the other was, so he called himself his own uber.

“Can I take a cupcake home with me?”, the Irishman asked, fluttering his eyelashes at Harry.

“You can have two, if you want.”, Harry smiled.

“I love you.”

He simply shook his head, knowing that Niall was tipsy, even though he didn’t seem really drunk. Must be the Irish genes. He got up to pack two of the few remaining cupcakes into a ziplock bag. They wouldn’t look pretty when Niall got them home, but they would taste good all the same.

Liam’s uber arrived first and Zayn and Niall decided to go downstairs with him, as it couldn’t be long for their own to arrive.

Harry managed saying goodbye with more confidence, managing to hug all of them. It felt alright. He knew they weren’t scary. They were nice; they were his friends.

“Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyye!”, Niall shouted down the hallway, waving with his bag of cupcakes, looking a little happier than half an hour ago.

“Pssst!”, Liam reprimanded him and Louis waved and closed the door.

“Our neighbours love us, Harry.”, he grimaced.

Instead of answering, Harry did what he wanted to do for a considerable time now. He caged Louis in with his arms against the wall and pressed their lips together.

A startled noise escaped Louis and Harry shied away slightly, to see if he did something Louis didn’t want.

But the older man immediately chased Harry’s lips with his own, re-connecting them and Harry sighed contently into the kiss.

Kissing Louis felt like breathing fresh air for the first time. He would never get tired of it. Quite the opposite actually. He wanted more.

Very timidly, he opened his mouth and let his tongue dance over Louis’s lips, but only once, because he wasn’t exactly sure if this was the correct way to do it. Punters had snogged him with tongue sometimes, but they had always just rammed their stinky tongues inside Harry’s mouth without any consideration. He wanted to do it the nice way.

As soon as Harry’s tongue touched Louis closed lips, the doctor drew his head back slightly, just far enough to look into Harry’s eyes.

“Yeah?”, he asked, as if he needed to make sure Harry really wanted that and his tongue didn’t just touch him by mistake.

Harry felt his face get hot, but he nodded. “But I might be shit at it.”, he said quietly and that was no false modesty. His only experiences that haven’t been disgusting and by force lay over 4 years in the past and he was sure he didn’t do it quite right back then.

“I don’t care.”, Louis smiled and framed Harry’s face with his hands, pulling him in gently.

Now it was Louis who asked for entrance by nudging Harry’s lips carefully, but he was kicking at an open door. Harry opened his mouth only too willingly and for a moment it was very shallow. Nevertheless Harry could taste Louis. It was wine, something sweet and something that must be distinctly Louis. He liked it very much.

But this soft touching of the tips of their tongues couldn’t be it. Harry was aware that he wasn’t meant to slobber aggressively into Louis’s mouth, but surely he could go a little harder.

He tilted his head a bit further and then let his tongue glide past the barrier of the older man’s lips, hoping that he was doing it correctly.

According to Lou’s reaction he was. The man made a small sound, pushing one of his hands into Harry’s hair and twirled his own tongue around Harry’s.

Fuck, that was nice. Of course, there was always the looming fear of having a flashback or overdoing it and ending up in a hyperventilating heap, but right now, it felt so fucking nice. Maybe even more than nice. The gentle back and forth between their tongues, made Harry’s body tingle and heat up. Oh... Oh my god. That feeling... Harry was getting aroused. He didn’t pop a stiffy or something, at least not yet, but he was definitely feeling arousal.

He disconnected their lips, leaning his forehead against Louis’s, panting slightly.

“You okay?” Louis was equally out of breath.

“Yes, just- just a second.” He needed to moment to get to terms with the things his body made him feel and if that feeling was potentially dangerous. His heart was pounding, but that could be pure excitement as well. Fucking hell, why was it so hard to tell fear from horniness? And who knew, it could be both as well!

“Fuck.”, Harry muttered against the doctor’s mouth, being a bit annoyed by himself.

“Talk to me, babe. It’s okay.”

“I’m overthinking it... I think.”

That made Louis laugh shortly.

“If it helps, that kiss was fucking incredible.”

The boy huffed out a laugh as well, pushing himself away from the wall and thus from Louis. “I didn’t really questioned its incredibleness.”

He started to walk backwards towards the living room. The doctor disconnected his back from the wall he was leaning on and followed Harry with a smirk. “No? What was it then, darling?”

Harry rolled his eyes slightly. “The usual.”

“You got scared?”

The boy shrugged. “That’s the thing. I don’t even know. I mean probably, because I'm always scared one way or another, but I don’t know if it was bad. You know?” He reached the doorframe of the living room and turned to walk inside, sure that Louis would follow.

“Ah, now I get the overthinking comment.”

“Exactly. Like the kiss was incredible and I felt incredible, but I'm always waiting for it to end badly. Surely, feeling... uhm, you know feeling uhm...”, he hesitated and flopped down into the couch first, looking up at Louis, who approached him slowly. “I think I felt, uhm, kind of aroused and surely that is something that can trigger me like that.” He snapped his fingers on the last word, letting his hand fall down afterwards in defeat.

“Hmm.”, Louis made, sounding pensive. He reached Harry and instead of sitting next to him, he pushed the glasses on the table aside and sat down in front of him, bracketing Harry’s closed knees with his own. “I know I’m not a therapist and it’s definitely something you should talk to Maura about, but I think you try so hard to avoid any flashbacks, that you start to block the progress you’re making.”

Harry pushed himself away from the backrest of the sofa, to reach for Louis' hands. It always comforted him to play with those delicate, beautiful hands.

“I guess you’re right. But... flashbacks suck, Lou.”

The doctor pulled a face, nodding. “I know, love. But remember, I'm always here for you to help you through them”

Harry didn’t answer, looking at the hand he was currently playing with, his mind going in circles. He wanted to be brave and just snog Louis without fear of the repercussions, but what if he went too far and got a flashback? It would spoil the whole experience for him and Harry was simply afraid of having those flashbacks.

Louis put his free hand on Harry’s cheek, leaning forward and placed the softest of kisses on Harry’s forehead. “Remember that you’re always safe with me, darling. Everything at your pace.”

The boy finally looked up, a burst of love suffused his chest and those three words, were almost spilling out of him by force. How was he supposed to not say it any longer if Louis kept on proving that he was more than deserving of that love?

But it was too early. It must be too early. So instead, Harry kissed him, trying to convey his feeling by that simple kiss alone.

Two days later

Harry stood in the lift, on his way down, after his second therapy appointment. They had talked a lot about Harry’s week and what he had written down in, what he now called, his trigger diary. The great thing about Maura was that she didn’t insist on Harry retelling the content of his flashbacks. She told him today, that this was something they would do at a later point. Right now she wanted to build up a good doctor-patient relationship. So they talked about what had triggered Harry. They also had a long conversation about his new-found fear of going outside, after he told her about his cigarette-smoke-trigger. There she had been adamant that Harry still went outside. “You can’t start to isolate yourself. Take Louis with you as support and go outside, Harry.”, she’d said. It sounded radical but Harry trusted her judgement. If she said he needed to simply get it over with, she probably had a good reason to say it. Lastly, he mentioned what had happened Saturday night.

“That’s a really big topic, Harry, because there are so many things involved and to consider and it would totally go beyond the constraints of this session. We will talk about it next time in depth. But I will give you this advice for now. Avoiding your triggers doesn’t heal you. When you’re being triggered, you’re literally being shown what areas of yourself still need to be healed. If you constantly avoid every situation that might trigger you, you may feel alright, but you aren’t. That’s why it’s important for you to come to me and review what has triggered you and why. Only like that you can heal, do you understand?”

Harry had nodded, not quite happy with this answer. “So I'm just supposed to let them happen?”

“No, of course not. You should always use your coping skills, Harry. The more you practice that, the easier it will get. You have to trust the process a bit. I know it would be great if I could give you the answer to everything in just one session, but that’s simply not possible.”

Even though it sucked, Harry had to accept that. Therapy was a process that needed time.

The doors of the lift opened and he stepped out to find Louis waiting for him in the lobby. The doctor had used the time during Harry’s appointment today,  to run some errands.

“Hey, lovely.”, he was greeted and Harry gave him a quick peck on his lips, because he was sure that the lobby was empty and no one was watching them. “How was it?”

“Much stuff to think about today.”, Harry stated, grateful that Louis put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

Together, they walked to Louis car, which took a bit longer today, as the doctor had to park two streets away, because there was no available parking spot.

“Are you hungry?”, Louis asked, when they both folded their bodies into the car.

“Sure.”, Harry nodded with a quick smile.

“Let’s get take-away today. I had to think about chinese the whole day. That alright?”

“I love chinese. I mean, you know I lived next to the best Chinese restaurant in all of Cheshire, right?”

“Bet it was the only one.”, Louis deadpanned and Harry laughed.  

“Hey don’t talk shit about my hood, Lou! I mean, you’re from the ghetto, not me.”

Louis gawked at him. “Did you just call Donny a ghetto?”

“Yup.”

“Take that back!” Louis tried his hardest to look serious, but unfortunately he had to laugh.

“No, I don’t think I will.”, Harry giggled.

“Little minx.”

The younger man stuck out his tongue and Louis chortled with amusement, shaking his head.

Feeling strangely proud at himself, Harry grinned the rest of the way home.

They spend the rest of the evening munching on Chinese take-out and cuddling on the couch, which gave Harry the perfect opportunity think about everything Maura said to him today. But only when Harry lay in his bed alone, staring at the ceiling, not even an hour after they said good night, he felt something akin to determination. He needed to be brave. Maura said avoiding his triggers didn’t heal him, maybe even the opposite. They showed him what he still had problems with. And thinking back to Saturday night, it didn’t even feel like he was teetering on the brink of the abyss of a flashback.

He sat up and swung his legs out of his bed, because he made a decision. He would go and kiss Louis.

He crossed the living room and knocked on his bedroom door, waiting for an answer.