Archive of Our Own

Louis looks up at the intimidating three story building from the sidewalk and all he can think about is how much he doesn’t want to be there. It’s not just the fact that he’s being sent to a psychiatric hospital, but how he got here in the first place. If Niall would have found him just a few minutes later then he wouldn’t be anywhere right now. And when the doctor told him that, he just wanted to scream. If Niall hadn’t found Louis, he’d be six feet in the ground, that was the whole idea, wasn’t it? But no, rather than allowing for Louis to pass on, some higher power decided that he, of all people, deserved to live and now he’s going to be spending at least the next 72 hours in this hell hole.

“Do I have to do this?” Louis doesn't look away from the building. Words cannot fully express how much he doesn’t want to do this. He had woken up to a loud constant beeping, in an unfamiliar bed. The doctor had explained everything, how much blood he had lost and a bunch of other things that he hadn’t paid attention to. Bottom line: he wasn’t dead. Then the doctor mentioned suicide watch and Louis having to be escorted to another facility because the hospital didn’t have enough space at the moment. Which is why he is now standing in front of Hotchkiss Hospital with Niall and a random cop.

“Yes, because you’re on suicide watch,” Niall answers bluntly.

“Why can’t you watch me?” Louis finally tears his eyes away from the building to give his friend a pout.

“The puppy dog look doesn’t work on me anymore, you know that.” Louis frowns and lets out a small huff as Niall continues, “One, I'm not a doctor or a psychologist. Two, legally speaking, I think this has to happen. That's why the cop is here.” Niall points his thumb over his shoulder. “I know it seems scary, but you’ll be fine. This is the best treatment you can get in all of London. If you can’t do it for yourself, think of your family and everyone who loves you.”

Louis shoots Niall a glare, he’s not happy and makes that perfectly clear when he says, “That’s low Niall and you know it, but fine. For my family's sake.”

“Atta boy,” Niall grins and pats Louis’ shoulder, “I’m proud of you.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a sap.”

“I can't help it. I don’t understand why you tried to do it, but I’m sure as hell glad you’re still here.”

Louis’ eyes start to water, because even if he doesn’t want to be here, and he feels like everything is pointless, Niall is still his best friend, and he can’t help but pull him into a fierce hug. They stay like that for what seems like ages before finally letting each other go.

“This is where I leave you, temporarily of course. Be free, do whatever you please for the next 72 hours whilst I suffer,” Louis jokes while wiping away the tears in his eyes.

“Will do, Tommo,” Niall answers with a laugh.

Louis takes a step away from his friend and nods to the cop, who had been nice enough to keep his distance. They walk up the pathway in near silence, the only sound being the wheels of the suitcase Niall had packed for Louis rolling against the pavement.

At the first mention of a psych hospital Louis had adamantly refused. He’s seen Cuckoo’s Nest, and plenty of other films about psych wards. He just wanted to go home and commiserate, not be under 24/7 supervision. But Dr. Nelson said that Louis had no choice in the matter, that he was being involuntarily committed. Dr. Nelson then went on to explain that psychiatric hospitals today are nothing like they were back in the 60’s or 70’s. That patients are actually treated like humans, for one, and have some freedoms, such as bringing their own clothes as well as some personal items.

A lot of things are banned of course, meaning Louis’ suitcase will definitely be checked. He just hopes that there won’t be an extremely thorough check that goes beyond his bag. Not because he’s bringing anything on the list of no-nos Dr. Nelson gave him, but more the fact that he hasn’t had any action besides his right hand in a long time. Which is probably the least of his worries considering the events of the last 24 hours.

Louis lets out a low whistle once they’re inside the building. He wasn’t expecting for a psych hospital to look so...extravagant. It looks likes a five start hotel more than anything else. The lobby is spacious to say the least, there are a dozen black leather chairs scattered around the room that look professional yet comfortable. The floor is covered in white marble tiles. Directly in front of the doors there’s a large desk with more marble, except it's black. Sitting behind the desk is a young woman in a blazer with red hair that is obviously not natural. There’s a buff man, probably in his thirties, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, leaning over the desk. The man looks like he doesn't belong in such a fancy place, but seems to know the receptionist fairly well considering the lack of space between them.

The ceiling is open, allowing for Louis to see all the way up to the third floor, which means he can also see the chandelier hanging from the ceiling some thirty feet above him. If someone were to be looking over the balcony they would be able to see Louis and whoever else is in the lobby. It’s kind of a stupid design for a psych hospital with all the crazies and suicidal people that could easily jump from the third floor. Louis might consider it, except more likely than not he would just end up in the hospital again with a few broken bones and cracked ribs.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” the woman behind the desk, Cristina, according to the nameplate, asks with a cheerful demeanor.

“This is Louis Tomlinson. Been sent over from St. Luke’s Hospital,” the cop replies before Louis can.

“We’ve been expecting you. Dr. Nelson called this morning. Mr. Tomlinson, there are just a few things you need to sign. I will also need your cell phone and any other devices you might have on your person. Alberto here will be your personal guard of sorts. He will take you to see Dr. Carter, and your suitcase for inspection.”

As Cristina gets the paperwork, Alberto gives Louis a once over. Louis goes to scratch his arm, which is a habit that always makes him feel more comfortable for some reason, but stops when he feels the bandages. Huh. He had basically forgotten about them, which considering what’s underneath seems impossible. Louis settles instead for holding onto his bicep.

“Here we are! Just sign at the bottom please,” Cristina says, the smile never leaving her face. Louis finds it quite unsettling.

Louis does as he’s told without fuss, even though he’d like to know exactly what he’s signing, he doesn’t really have a choice. As soon as he’s signed, the cop leaves silently.

Alberto, who’s definitely an employee rather than the woman’s boyfriend as Louis had thought, takes his suitcase without preamble and starts walking to a door on the far left side of the lobby, behind the desk that he hadn’t noticed before. Alberto takes a card from his pocket and puts it near a sensor. There’s a quiet beep and the sound of the door unlocking. Alberto holds the door open for Louis, and he steps through to a small space with another door leading to what looks like where the patients live ahead, and an elevator to the right. Alberto uses the card again on the door in front of them.

Louis was expecting for the the ward to be utterly depressing, with the patients moping around not really talking to anyone else. He was not expecting a brightly lit room that’s half the size of a football pitch, with doors lining each wall. It’s surprisingly loud for there being only twenty some people in the room, some are watching a film in the far left corner of the room, while others are playing cards or a board game at the tables scattered throughout the ward. They seem happy but they’re obviously here for one reason or another.

Louis is startled from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He relaxes a little when he sees it’s just Alberto.

“Dr. Carter is ready to see you now,” is all the man says before walking into an office. Louis takes a calming breath before following. The room seems more like a home office than a professional office. There’s a large window opposite the door that looks out onto the road. The walls are a calming shade of light blue and covered in picture frames. There are two couches and a set of chairs, matching the ones in the lobby, in front of the large wooden desk.

“Ah! You must be Louis! Have a seat!” Dr. Carter says with a smile. He looks to be in his fifties, if his salt and pepper hair is anything to go by. And from what Louis can tell he has very deep smile lines by his eyes. Less than a minute of interaction and Louis isn’t sure if he'll be able to be around someone so cheerful for long periods of time. Louis gives him a small nod and sits in one of the chairs in front of the desk the doctor is sitting behind. He tries to scratch at his arm again, only to be stopped by the bandages for the second time that day. This time he settles for pressing on his arm, letting the dull pain wash over him.

“It’s probably best if you don’t mess with those bandages. We want your arms to heal properly after all,” Dr. Carter suggests.

“It’s not as if I exactly mind scars,” Louis answers, continuing to press on his arm and giving Dr. Carter a pointed look.

“You don’t like to beat around the bush do you?” Dr. Carter smiles kindly. Louis doesn't trust him.

“What’s the point? I mean, we both know why I’m here. I tried to kill myself.”

“Well, I must say I’m a little surprised. Most patients in your...situation are not so outright about it.”

“Oh, come on Doc. You can say the word. It’s not like Voldemort or something.”

“Like I said, Mr. Tomlinson. A lot patients aren’t as open about it. And some patients in this ward have come a long way in their treatment, which is why we ask people to be...respectful. If you know what I mean.”

“So, you don’t want me to talk about trying to kill myself,” Louis challenges. He’s hoping to get some sort of reaction out the doctor. Maybe he’ll start yelling about how worthless Louis is like the kids in school used to. One thing he’s always been good at is pushing people’s buttons, but sometimes people push those buttons right back, and harder too.

Louis remembers the first time it happened too. He was twelve and in Geography, goofing off as usual. His teacher had told him to stop being so disruptive. Louis was feeling particularly rebellious that day so he looked him straight in the eye and said “Make me”. A collective “oooohhh” had gone through the classroom. His teacher had gone red in the face and stalked towards Louis’ desk, until he was hovering over the boy. Louis can’t quite remember how the rest of that conversation went, but he clearly remembers it ending in “You will never amount to anything” from his teacher. He hadn’t jumped to defend himself like most students would have, and no one in his class did either. The silence in the room was deafening. They didn't even finish the lesson that day, everyone had stayed silent for the last five minutes of class.

Those words stuck with him for the next couple of weeks, they wouldn't leave his head no matter how hard he tried, and nearly eleven years later they still pop up from time to time. But to have someone who is supposed to encourage you tell you that you won’t amount to anything, that you are practically worthless. It makes an impact on you. That one comment sent Louis spiraling into despair because twelve year old him had aspirations. He was gonna be rich and able to pay for his family, he was going to be famous, maybe for acting or footie, maybe even singing. He hadn’t really figured it out yet, but that one comment stopped him from thinking he ever could. Years down the road whenever he tried to do something worthwhile that could get him somewhere, his teacher’s voice was in the back of his mind telling him it wasn’t worth it, that he wasn’t worth it.

Louis still doesn’t understand why he started pushing everyone's buttons after that, but he did. He pushed his classmates, who were usually bigger than him and took their aggression out on him physically; along with a choice vocabulary of insults. He pushed his teachers, who were a bit trickier, but he got there in the end. And most of all his step dad, Andy, who Louis would sass constantly at home. Andy had no qualms about pushing right back.

After being suspended for a week from school, and overhearing a conversation about military school that his mom and Andy had late one night, he stopped most of the button pushing. He got his act together, no more pushing people to see how far they could bend before snapping. But the negative thoughts were still there, all the things he had goaded people into saying about him were still swarming in his head. And he was desperate to find a new way to take care of his feelings.

The first time it happened was an accident, Louis was shaving, practically non-existent peach fuzz, and somehow the razor slipped and cut his finger. It was deep enough to bleed, and he had just stood transfixed for a while, staring at the blood. He had relished in the way it stung, and frowned a little when it finally subsided. He looked at himself in the mirror and his eyes that hadn't carried emotion for the last few years of his life suddenly had a small spark in them. He had been a bit clumsy about it the first time, he hadn’t known how much pressure to apply or where the scars would least likely be seen. But he learned those things over the years.

“Yes, well. Alberto, why don’t you go through Louis’ bag now. Just wait outside the door once you’re done,” Dr. Carter says, seemingly unperturbed by Louis’ behavior. Alberto silently collects Louis’ bag and leaves, letting the door close quietly. “We’re just going to go over some general things. It looks like they already took your weight, vitals and such at the hospital this morning so we can skip over that. And the only medication you’re currently taking is Prozac. Do you take it every day?”

Louis stays silent as Dr. Carter waits patiently for him to reply, the small smile never leaving his face. Louis alternates between staring him down and looking around the room. After a full minute of silence Louis figures that being somewhat cooperative will probably work in his favor at some point.

“I’m supposed to,” Louis answers quietly.

“But do you?”

“Like 4 or 5 times a week. I just don’t really feel a difference,” Louis admits.

“That’s because you aren’t taking them consistently. You need to take them regularly for a couple of weeks for them to really take effect. Alberto will make sure you take your medication for the duration of your stay. And as I’m sure Dr. Nelson told you, you’ll be here initially for 72 hours. During that time, Alberto will watch over you during the day, for your own safety. And someone else will watch you during the night. You can make phone calls if you’d like...”

Louis doesn’t mean to zone out. But he’s never really been a good listener, which might have been another reason why his teachers generally disliked him so much. And he's sure someone else can explain whatever Dr. Carter is saying right now. He feigns attention by nodding every so often. It’s when Louis notices that Dr. Carter’s lips are no longer moving, and that he’s on the receiving end of a pointed look, he realizes he should have been at least half-listening to the doctor.

“Sorry what was that? I kind of zoned out there a little bit.”

“I said that there’s about an hour until our small group therapy session so you can get comfortable and then go to the meeting. Does that sound okay?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“See you in an hour, Louis," Dr. Carter answers.

Louis takes that as his cue to leave and does so silently. He finds Alberto waiting outside the door. There’s nothing to be said as Alberto leads Louis to his room in the far left corner, close to the television area. There’s a chair right outside the door, positioned so whoever is sitting in it can see into the room with no obstructions, but not obviously so. Alberto takes a seat in the chair and crosses his arms, his eyes never leaving Louis. Like everything else in the hospital so far, the room exceeds his expectations. The walls are the same blue as Dr. Carter’s office and there’s only one small bed, meaning no roommate, which is definitely a plus in Louis’ mind. There’s also a metal chair, a small desk, and even a dresser for his belongings. His suitcase is already waiting on the bed, and he lets out a sigh before he starts unpacking.

Niall did a surprisingly good job of packing for him, he had packed all of Louis favorite sweats and hoodies. He even managed to pack Louis favorite gray beanie, which he immediately puts on his head. Louis assumes that because it’s still in his bag that it passed Alberto’s inspection, and he’s definitely grateful. He wishes his skinny jeans were in the mix, but they don’t even allow zippers. Oh well, he can do just fine without them for the next few days, it’s not as if he’s trying to impress anyone in this hellhole.

Louis’ unpacking is interrupted by a knock on the doorframe. He stops for a second and turns to look, expecting it to be Dr. Carter. The man standing in the doorway is definitely not Dr. Carter. Louis’ breath is nearly taken away by the tall man. He doesn’t say anything, just offers a small smirk. It's such a fucking cliche, and Louis has never been a fan of cliches. And therefore he automatically has a certain level of dislike for the muscular, tattooed man with curly hair.

“Can I help you?” Louis crosses his arms.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Harry.” Harry puts his hand out and Louis only glances at it briefly before turning around to pretend like he’s unpacking again. “Okay then... I’m sure I’ll see you around soon.”

Louis doesn’t have to turn around to know that Harry has left. Once his suitcase is empty he sits on the bed, just staring at the wall. He’s probably managed to kill fifteen minutes, twenty if he’s lucky.

“So, Alberto, what is there to do around here for fun?”

Alberto laughs softly, “You’re gonna have to meet everyone else eventually, might as well do it now.”

“Nah, I’m good until group therapy. I’ll just stay in here.” They sit in silence for a few more minutes until Louis breaks it again. “So, you’re like a bodyguard?”

“More of a babysitter to be honest,” Alberto responds.

“That’s got to be uplifting. Watching people day after day at what is probably the lowest point of their lives.”

“There are worse things. Most people walk out of those doors entirely different people, with entirely different outlooks on life.” Louis scoffs. “You’ll see. It may take more than 72 hours, maybe less. Who knows, but that’s why you’re here isn’t it? To get better?”

“Not by choice.”

“No, but the majority of people here are. Just ask. Contrary to what Dr. Carter said, most of them will be more than willing to share their stories with you. He just likes to take precautions. But you didn’t hear it from me." Alberto smiles and Louis returns it. He likes Alberto, he's glad his first impression of him was wrong.

"So are you the sort of babysitter who sits on their phone while the kid runs wild or the sort that waits outside the bathroom while they take a dump?"

"Inside the bathroom actually. I will literally be by your side for your every waking moment of the next three days."

“I guess it’s good that I like you then,” Louis admits. “Just tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”

“My lips are sealed.” Alberto looks at his watch. “And look at that, you’ve got group.”

Louis groans. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, now come on.” Alberto rolls his eyes and stands up. Louis does the same and follows his babysitter.

“Why aren’t you in like...a security guard uniform or summat?”

“Some of the patients are paranoid about authority figures, especially cops or anyone who looks like a cop. So it’s just better to be safe than sorry. Plus I heard that about a year ago, before I came here, someone was attacked. It wasn’t pretty apparently.”

“Wow.”

They stop outside of a door in the corner of the main room opposite Louis’ own.

“This is it. I’ll be right outside the door. Doctor-patient confidentiality and what not.”

“See you on the other side,” Louis gives Alberto a mock salute and walks into the room.

It’s only slightly larger than his own room, but only has chairs in it. There are stacks of them in the corners. And in the middle of the room there are four in a semicircle with one a few feet in front of them. And with Louis’ luck, of course Harry is in his group therapy session. There are two men who look to be around Louis' age occupying the other chairs in the semicircle. They’re sitting extremely close to each other and seem to be having a very quiet, but intense conversation.

Harry shoots Louis a smile. "Well, well, look who it is."

The two other occupants of the room stop their conversation long enough to glance at Louis before going right back talking.

"Hello, Harold," Louis says, taking a seat in the chair next to the aforementioned man.

"That’s not my name."

"Well, I like it."

"Fine. So are you gonna tell me your name now?” Harry raises an eyebrow.

“Nah. I’m good, thanks.”

Harry is silent for a beat.

“You’ve known me for less than an hour and have barely even interacted with me. How can you possibly hate me already?”

Louis stiffens. “Why do you think I hate you?”

“Call it intuition.”

Louis rolls his eyes and scoffs. He doesn’t get a chance to reply because Dr. Carter walks in and takes a seat in the final chair.

“Hello, everyone. I hope you’re all well. We’ll get to that right after introductions. As you can see we have a new person joining us today. We’ll just go in a circle okay? Louis would you like to start?”

“As Doc said, I’m Louis,” Louis says with a wave.

“‘M Harry.”

“Hi, I’m Liam. This is Zayn. He doesn’t really feel like talking very much today.”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” Dr. Carter says. “Now. Let’s start where we ended last time. Liam ...”

The whole session is a bit of a blur to Louis. Dr. Carter goes around the semicircle asking about each person’s problems and feelings. Out of everyone Liam talks the most, not that Louis minds, it’s just less time for him to talk. In just twenty-five minutes, Louis learns more about Liam than he thought possible. Apparently Liam was emotionally abused by his father. And the kids at school made fun of him because of the stutter he had up until he was sixteen, and also attempted suicide nearly a year ago. Where Liam speaks very openly about his issues Zayn is nearly silent. He mainly whispers into Liam’s ear for him to then convey his words. Louis is still not quite sure why Zayn or Harry are there by the end of the session. Harry seems perfectly normal, if not overly observant. It definitely creeps Louis out a little bit.

When it’s Louis’ turn to talk he doesn’t share any details. Not feeling comfortable enough to share with the four perfectly good strangers in the room. All in all, Louis doesn’t really see the purpose of group therapy or how it’s helpful. But they apparently have it every day, so he’s gonna just have to get used to it. Dr. Carter dismisses them and Louis shoots out of his chair in order to get out of the room as soon as possible.

"Louis can I talk to you for a moment?" Dr. Carter asks from his chair.

Of course it's not that easy to escape.

"Sure thing doc," Louis replies with a forced grin.

He waits until the other patients have left the room to start talking.

"I know you're here involuntarily, but the more you cooperate, the better. That means sharing with the group, and more than one word answers."

"So now you want me talk about why I'm here?"

"Yes, as this group of people won't be triggered by anything related to that. And it might do you good to talk about it."

"Yeah. Okay," Louis scoffs. "Can I go now?"

"Yes. I'll see you later for an individual session this afternoon."

"Great," Louis deadpans. He exits the room quickly, wanting to put as much distance between the doctor and himself. Louis has always had an aversion to doctors from a young age, especially psychiatrists.

“What are you looking at?” Louis asks Alberto, who quickly gets up from the chair to follow after Louis.

“Nothing. What would you like to do now?” Alberto replies.

“Go home,” Louis mutters.

“Sarcasm won’t help you around here. I suggest you make nice with someone. Even if it’s just for show."

“What does that mean?”

“It means that the doctors like when patients socialize. It’ll help you get out sooner.”

Louis stops walking and faces Alberto.

“What do you mean sooner? I’m here for 72 hours.”

“On suicide watch. Then I go away and you have a little bit more freedom until Dr. Carter decides you’re ready to leave.”

And honestly how could Louis have been so stupid to assume he’d be getting out of here in a couple of days. He had just been found inches from death this morning for fucks sake, of course professionals wouldn’t let him go free so easily. Not to mention it’s a major plot point in Cuckoo’s Nest.

Louis spots a mop of curls at a table across the room and decides that he’s going to have to befriend Harry after all. He makes his way over as nonchalantly as possible. Harry doesn’t notice Louis at first, too engrossed by something Liam is telling him. Louis stands awkwardly for a few seconds before coughing pointedly. The two are startled from their conversation. Zayn, who is drawing intently, pays him no mind. Liam looks a little apprehensive and Harry wears the same smirk he had when introducing himself.

“Hi... look I know we started off on the wrong foot and I just wanted to... apologize,” Louis says as he plays with the bandages on his left arm.

“That’s alright, Louis. The first day’s really stressful,” Harry answers with a smile. “You can join us if you’d like. We’re about to start a game of Candy Land.”

Louis takes the seat next to Harry. “Thank you. And I’m sorry really.”

“So, suicide attempt,” Harry states as he mixes up the deck of cards.

“How did you know that? I didn’t say anything about that in group.”

“Because you have a babysitter. Only people on suicide watch have them, and judging by the bandages on your arms, you aren’t here because you saw the harm in your thoughts and sought out help.”

“Is Zayn okay?” Louis asks, ignoring Harry’s completely accurate deductions. Like he had thought earlier, it’s a bit creepy.

“He just doesn’t talk much in general,” Liam speaks up, putting his arm around Zayn’s shoulders carefully. Zayn continues drawing and doesn’t show any sign of acknowledgement at first. The only indication that he’s aware of anything is the slightest lean into Liam’s touch a few seconds later.

“You okay, Z?”

“M fine,” Zayn mutters.

“Wanna play with us?”

“No.”

“Okay. You can go back to drawing, Z.” And he does just that, as seemingly unaware of the world as he had been seconds earlier.

“Why’s he here?” Louis questions, flabbergasted by what he just witnessed.

“He...uh... hears voices. Nothing too bad really, but it’s a bad day,” Liam explains. “He’s usually a bit more willing to interact and a little more lively. But like I said, it’s just a bad day.”

"Shouldn't one of the nurses be helping him?"

"He doesn't really let anyone else get close or like touch him. When I first met him he told me there was something special about me. That I helped keep the voices away. Or just make them a lot quieter."

“That’s...actually really sweet,” Louis says with a genuine smile.

“Can we play some Candy Land now?” Harry asks politely.

“Yeah, yeah.” Liam grabs the card from the top of the deck and moves his piece accordingly.

“So Harry, why are you here?” Louis draws a card.

“I’m here because I tried to jump off a seven story building.”

“So, suicide attempt.” Louis states.

“No, actually. I was trying to show people that I can fly, but they stopped me before I could.” Harry shrugs.

And just like everything else today, he was not expecting that. He doesn’t know how to respond. Hearing voices is somewhat common, he’s heard about it at least. But someone who is actually delusional? He’s only heard stories or seen characters on TV. This person thinks he can fly, it’s just...impossible. He has to know that it’s not physically possible. Louis does not know how to handle this.

“So.... Like Superman? The fictional hero?”

“Exactly!” Harry says with a large grin, even though he has to move his piece back to the Peppermint Forest from the Peanut Brittle House. “Most people don’t believe me when I tell them that. Dr. Carter says I should keep it a secret, like all the great superheroes do.”

“Have you ever actually flown before?”

“Oh yeah. Just not recently. I’ve been here for a few months now. They won’t let me on the upper floors for some reason, even though I’ve asked to prove it to them.”

“That’s because you can’t fly. It’s physically impossible for humans to fly.”

“Louis...” Alberto says with a cautious tone.

“No, let me continue. This is insane. You are insane,” Louis turns to Harry who looks close to tears, but he continues anyway because this is what he’s good at. Pushing buttons. “You can’t fly. You’re not a superhero. You can’t go around saving people with your powers, because they don’t fucking exist.”

“Louis that’s enough.” Alberto grabs Louis’ bicep and pulls him up from the chair, leading him away from the table.

“Let go of me!” Louis tries his best to escape his babysitters’ grasp but is unsuccessful. “Where are you taking me?!” Louis knows that he must be causing a scene, but he doesn’t really care.

Alberto doesn’t answer him, just leads him in the direction of the nurse’s station. And through a secure door to a short hallway with a few doors on each side. Alberto opens the first door on the left and guides Louis into the room. Every surface is covered by what looks to be giant pillows. They’re putting him into an actual padded room.

“I’m sorry, but this is protocol. Get comfy, you’ll probably be here for a while.” Alberto closes the door unceremoniously behind him.

Louis just stands in the middle of the room for thirty seconds trying to comprehend what just happened before he decides to lie down on the floor. With nothing to distract himself with his thoughts automatically go to what he just learned about Harry.

So, Harry thinks he can fucking fly. Louis doesn’t even know where to begin with how he feels about this new information. He was expecting crazy people, he’s in a psychiatric hospital after all, and people don’t come here for shits and giggles. Harry had just seemed so normal, Louis figured he was just... Louis doesn’t know what he thought about Harry. He’s positive Harry is an asshole, other than that he doesn’t really have an opinion.

But the more Louis thinks about it, the more rational his thoughts become. Yes, Harry thinks he can fly, which is definitely out there, but Louis realizes that Harry has as much control over it as he does his depression.

Millions upon millions of people suffer from depression, it’s one of the most common mental disorders in the world. The number of people suffering from delusions is probably significantly less, Louis doesn’t really know anything about delusions or the people who suffer from them. He’s never had any delusions really, not even one of him being happy someday. At least not for a very very long time. He’s always seen the world for what is really is, harsh and unforgiving. Louis might be overly cynical for a twenty three year old, but he’s seen his fair share of shitty things. From what Louis can tell, the cocky asshole thing Harry puts off is just a charade. He seems to have an almost childlike wonder about the world and believes in the best of people.

Louis wonders if everyone else indulges Harry’s delusions, lets him believe that he can fly for his own mental health, or for some other reason. He figures Harry must be here involuntarily, if he really believes there’s nothing wrong with wanting to jump off buildings to prove a point.

Louis isn’t really sure how long he’s in the padded room, but when he’s finally let out he feels a bit more level headed. His first instinct is to find Harry and apologize, but Louis doesn’t see him anywhere in the large room.

“Where is he?” Louis asks.

“In a room similar to what you were just in. He’s in a bit of a state,” Alberto responds.

“I didn’t know,” Louis starts pushing on his bandages again. He spots Liam and Zayn at a different table than they were a few hours ago. Zayn is still drawing and Liam is whispering in his ear. He quickly makes his way over and sits across from them. They both jump, surprised by Louis’ sudden appearance. “Why did nobody warn me?”

“Well, most people are a bit more understanding, I mean, look where we are,” Liam says quietly as he attempts to soothe Zayn.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve had plenty of time to think about this. And I’m sorry that I did what I did, but fucking hell he’s delusional. And in a very harmful way.”

“How is it more harmful than depression? You willingly hurt yourself. He’s never actually hurt himself, there's a reason he’s on the first floor. Security is pretty tight around here anyways, the chances of him being able to get to the roof or whatever are slim to none. Plus he doesn’t get the urge often. Most of the time he’s perfectly fine.”

“Okay, but he’s gotta be here involuntarily then, right?”

“Yeah. He’s here for a psychotic break. Apparently he didn’t think he could fly until about a year ago, and then one day he wants to fly. Says there was some sort of accident with his sister," Liam leans forward and motions for Louis to do the same. Once he does, Liam whispers, "Harry also told me that they keep changing his ‘vitamins’ every two weeks or so. I think they’re looking for a certain medication to make him more stable and not have delusions anymore.”

“How the hell do you know any of this?”

“I’m observant," Liam sits back in his chair. "And a good listener. He even talked about it in group today, so clearly you weren’t listening. Also there’s literally no reason to change vitamins. I mean, they’re vitamins.”

“So they’re trying to fix him.”

“Obviously, that’s why he’s here. Look, he likes you, generally as a human being. Even though you’ve been really shit to him in the past... however many hours. Harry is a very forgiving person and what just went down isn’t really gonna change the fact that he enjoys your company. Just... maybe, don't bring up the whole 'can't actually fly thing'. It’s best for everyone that way.”

“I get that I’ve been shit. That’s just how I act towards most people, it’s like a preset thing. I didn’t mean to be a complete dick. You have to admit though, he comes on a bit strong.”

“I think it’s a you problem not a Harry problem. Everyone loves him here. So if you want to be that asshole then go ahead be that asshole, but don’t get me involved and at least try to play nice, yeah?”

“Fine, fine. Do you wanna play Candy Land or not?”

Harry comes out of the same door Louis had gone through an hour later. He spots Liam and Louis, and immediately makes his way over to their table. As he gets closer Louis can see that Harry’s eyes are red and puffy. Louis hadn’t meant to make him cry, and now he feels like even more of an asshole.

“Look, Harry. I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to be so... cruel.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard those things. I’m kinda used to it. Just not in here really.” Harry says quietly.

“Well then let’s put it behind us. Let’s play another game of Candy Land. Yeah?” Louis smiles sincerely.

“Sure,” Harry smiles in return.

---

Over the next two days Louis is surprised to find that Harry is fairly normal, apart from the whole superhero thing. Whatever mental disorder Harry has doesn’t seem to affect his social skills. After the second game of Candy Land, Harry didn't leave Louis’ side and by extension neither did Liam and Zayn. Which is good for Louis, because he can easily keep up the pretense of being friends with them. At least that’s what he tells himself. He likes Liam, he really understands Louis, and Zayn is still pretty quiet most of the time so he hasn’t really been able to connect with him yet, but he seems chill. Louis will not admit to actually liking Harry, that's where he draws the line.

Even though Harry proved to not be a complete asshole within the first twelve hours after introducing himself, Louis is still cautious. He doesn’t trust Harry, but Harry trusts him. He had practically shared his entire life story with Louis after he had apologized. But when Harry asked Louis about his own past he immediately shut down. He doesn’t do that, doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like Harry so obviously does. He’s learned to be that way over the years, learned that when you open yourself up to people they have the power to take everything away from you.

Louis had made that mistake with Ian. It’s been nearly four years and Louis still refuses to make any meaningful connections.

And Louis definitely doesn’t trust the naive way in which Harry seems to see the world. Louis has talked to Liam about it when Harry isn’t around. And Liam says he can see where Louis is coming from, but offers nothing more constructive than that. And Alberto is anything but helpful, he probably wouldn’t talk even if he got offered half a million dollars. Louis finds time to complain about Harry to Dr. Carter in their one-on-one sessions, and he can only offer Louis advice on how to fix his own outlook on the world. All in all nobody is that helpful.

“I just don’t understand,” Louis exclaims. He’s sitting in Dr. Carter’s office with only a few hours left on the clock until he can leave legally.

“What don’t you understand Louis?” Dr. Carter replies calmly.

“How he can be so cheerful all the time. And have such a positive outlook on literally everything.”

“Are you talking about Harry again?”

“Yes!” Louis throws his hands in the air as he paces in front of Dr. Carter’s desk.

“You seem to talk about him a lot. Are there any problems between you two that would cause this... fascination you have with him?” Dr. Carter writes something on the notepad in front of him.

“I’m not fascinated by him. I just want to figure out how his mind works. There’s no way in hell he can be so positive all the time. Not with so many people telling him he’s crazy. He doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with him!” Louis starts pacing faster.

“I am not allowed to speak about the specifics of Harry’s case with you, as I have mentioned to you before. So we may as well shift the topic back to you. It’s only a matter of hours until you can legally leave, but I need to deem you fit to go back to your normal life.”

“I’m fine, I don't wanna die anymore. Isn't that what you want to hear?" Louis says exasperatedly.

“Your vitals are good. You’ve taken all of your medicine without any fights. You’ve been talking to other patients. However, you’ve hardly talked about yourself since you’ve been here. Even in our one-on-one sessions. You seem to have this... obsession with Harry that you’ve been focusing on rather than your own issues...”

“That is ridiculous,” Louis yells.

Dr. Carter carries on as if Louis didn’t speak. “You haven’t shared anything about your past, or what has lead you to be here....”

“What is it you want me to say? That I’ve been depressed for as long as I can remember? That I started cutting myself when I was barely thirteen? That I’m not happy working at a bookstore at twenty three, rather than actually having a career? Or maybe the fact that I can’t trust anyone because I poured my heart out to someone who didn’t care and left me?”

“Those are some great examples, that we will be able to talk about over the next few days,” Dr. Carter says with a hint of a smile on his face.

Louis groans and buries his face in his hands. Dr. Carter manages to pry information from Louis over the next thirty minutes. Stuff that Louis would rather forget, like Ian and his horrible geography teacher. He doesn’t like talking about his past, which is why he is now curled up on his bed, facing the wall.

Louis doesn’t like feeling vulnerable, and after his session with Dr. Carter he feels more so than he has in years. The only other person who knows about Ian is Niall, and he only knows because Louis didn’t leave his room for nearly a week after it had happened, and Niall forced it out of him, much like Dr. Carter had. There’s a reason he sets up walls, so people don’t get too close, and Dr. Carter had started to tear them down against Louis’ will.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks. Just his luck.

“Go away.” Louis says in a defeated tone, refusing to look at Harry as he starts to play with his bandages.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Just dandy.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Louis whips his head around, giving Harry a glare. “I have done more than enough talking about my feelings today with Dr. Smiley. So no, I do not want to talk about it.” There’s silence between them for a few seconds. Harry has a thoughtful look on his face and Louis is still glaring at him.

“Someone hurt you.” Harry says as he walks further into the room. Louis scoffs and turns his attention back to his bandages. “A lot of people have, even though they might not know it. And that’s why you don’t like to talk about yourself.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“You use sarcasm as a defense mechanism. Everything you do is to defend yourself from ever getting hurt again. You’re a very guarded person and you never let people in.”

Louis gets up so he can yell at Harry properly. “And so what if I fucking do? People are shitty, they can hurt you so easily. Even if you trust them for just a second. That’s all it fucking takes and then they have the ability to rip out your heart. They can hurt you over and over again. And there is no way in hell that I am going to let anyone hurt me again. So yes, I’m fucking guarded, and don’t let anyone get close to me because it sucks when they leave. And plenty of people have already done that. So yes, I’m cautious.”

There’s more silence between them, the only other sound being Louis’ breathing, his chest heaving up and down. After what seems like forever Harry smiles. He fucking smiles. “Why the fuck are you happy about this?”

“You trust me,” Harry says calmly.

“I do not,” Louis hisses.

“Yes, you do. You wouldn't have said any of that if you didn’t.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I just said it so you would get off my fucking case.”

“Fine. Whatever you say,” Harry replies as he holds up his hands, as if he's giving up.

"That's not fucking fair," Louis takes a step towards Harry and pokes his chest. "You do not get to use your creepy sixth sense thing to manipulate me into talking to you about my feelings, let alone liking you."

"Creepy sixth sense?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Now if you would be so kind as to get the fuck out of my room,” Louis says.

“This whole ‘I don’t give a crap' thing doesn’t fool me. Underneath the layers of sarcasm and comebacks is someone who actually cares,” Harry replies before he walks out the door.

Honestly who the fuck does Harry Styles think he fucking is? He had absolutely no right to invade Louis’ privacy like that. Had no right to say those things to Louis. Louis knows he’s fucked up, knows that not letting people in isn’t healthy. He hears it from Niall constantly, who is always trying to get him to make friends or go out to a pub once in a while. Louis is just fine with his life, for the most part. He barely makes enough money to take care of himself and his job sucks, but what job doesn’t in your early twenties? And more often than not he doesn’t even want to get out of bed. And yes, he did very recently try to end his life, but Harry fucking Styles does not need to know he’s unhappy. It’s implied of course, but Louis refuses to give him the satisfaction of being right. Stupid creepy sixth sense.

Louis resolves to be more open with his feelings, he needs to prove to Harry that he’s willing to share with anyone. And Dr. Carter too, but mostly Harry. If Louis can push all the wrong buttons, he can probably push the right ones too, and tell Dr. Carter exactly what he wants to hear so he can get out as soon as possible.

---

“I guess I don’t let people in because of this crappy relationship I had about four years ago,” Louis says refusing to look at anyone and pressing down on his right arm. “We had been together for about four months and I was actually happy. I was down to once a week with my razors, it was just habit at that point, really. Anyways, I finally got the courage to tell him everything, and he kicked me out of his flat. Said he never wanted to see me again, and yeah...” Louis doesn’t feel the need to share the fact that he was on the bathroom floor sobbing for hours after, and made more cuts in one night than he’d like to acknowledge.

“Thank you for sharing that with us Louis,” Dr. Carter says with an approving nod. “I know that it can be difficult to share things at first. And I’m glad that you’ve decided to start sharing with us now. That’s the point of therapy. Now do you really believe that Ian is the source of all your problems?”

“I don’t... I mean... probably not.”

“Okay, this seems like a good place for us to stop. I will see all of you soon.”

Louis leaves the room quickly and silently. He goes right to the comfy rocking chair in the corner with the TV that he claimed as his own almost a week ago. He’s been here for fifteen days, much longer than he had expected. Louis thought he’d be in and out, back to his boring life in no time. Dr. Carter still isn’t ready to let him out yet. Louis has done everything the doctor had wanted. He’s actually sharing things about his life that he never has before and he isn’t any closer to feeling happier. All of this sharing had started out as his plan to get out, but now his walls have been broken down so much that he’s basically running on autopilot. He hasn’t even been sent to the padded room for four days now. Louis knows that he probably should feel better, but he actually feels worse.

For so long Louis had been able to put all of the bad thoughts, and the things that had happened to him to the back of his head; he did his best to leave them alone. But actually talking about them has only made Louis realize how truly fucked up he is. Louis just wants to go home and be miserable there instead.

Louis is pulled from his thoughts by a small cough. He doesn’t need to look up to know that it’s Harry. He’s taken to sitting on the couch by Louis’ chair in the hopes of making him feel better or something like that.

“What do you want, hero boy?” Louis scratches at his bandages. He’s started to get annoyed with them and just wants them off. The stitches are starting to itch and he wants them out, but the nurses tell him they need to stay in a few more days.

“You’re sad,” Harry states.

“That sixth sense never fails, does it?”

“No, you’re more sad than when you got here. You don’t hide it anymore.”

“Yeah, well when you get as good at repressing shit as I do, bringing things into the light isn’t necessarily good.”

“But doesn’t talking about it help? I mean, bottling things up isn’t healthy.”

“Can we just not talk maybe?” Louis lets out a sigh. “You’ve already heard everything in group anyway. I’ve done so much talking for the past couple weeks and I’m fucking sick of it.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Louis expects for Harry to leave, but he stays on the couch and lets Louis wallow. Louis doesn’t keep track of how long they sit in silence, but it feels like hours.

“Hey Louis,” Harry says eventually.

“What, hero boy?”

"What kind of key opens a banana?"

"I don't know," Louis sighs.

"A monkey."

Louis doesn’t bother to laugh, just rolls his eyes and says “That’s terrible.” Harry doesn’t need to see the small smile on his face.

They sit in silence for a few more minutes before Louis speaks again.

“You’re right,” he says softly.

“What?”

“You’re right,” Louis says a little bit louder, still not looking at Harry. “About everything. I’ve always bottled things up and never ever talk to anybody about my issues, and it came back to bite me in the ass, because now I’m here. Slowly being broken down into a more ‘normal’ person. I’m actually feeling things again. I think...on some level I’m starting to trust again...I don’t know that probably sounds crazy that I can have like a complete 180 in just two weeks.”

“No, it’s not crazy. It’s good, it means you’re getting better.”

“Then why do I feel worse?” Louis turns to face Harry. “I’ve been taking my meds and talking about my feelings and I don’t feel better. I feel so much worse. The fact that I’m even telling you any of this really says something. Five days ago I wouldn’t have been saying anything right now.”

“You’re feeling vulnerable. Those walls you built up, are coming down, like you said. You’re a different person than you were two weeks ago. Maybe you should tell Dr. Carter all of this, rather than putting up a brave front. He might release you.”

“Have you not been listening? I’m worse than I was when I got here. There’s no way in hell he’s letting me out now.”

“Exactly! You’re more open now. He’ll see that as progress.”

“It doesn’t feel like progress,” Louis mumbles.

“It is though. I’ve been here long enough to see what gets people out. Just tell Dr. Carter everything you told me, maybe in a bit happier tone, and he’ll let you out.”

“You seem too well adjusted to be here.”

“I’m here involuntarily. I’m sure Liam told you that already.”

“Yeah, but still. You seem like you can function normally, hero boy.”

“Yeah well, I lost someone and I couldn’t save them, and it’s my fault they’re gone... My mom said I lost it afterwards and she couldn’t handle it on her own. She used to visit, but it’s been a few months, I don’t think she’s coming back either. I’m not getting out until she comes back. People leave me too...” Harry stops talking for a few seconds, with a contemplative look. “But that’s not the point. The point I wanted to make is that I couldn’t save my sister, but maybe I can help save you by getting you out of here.”

“Harry... I... I don’t know what to say...” Louis starts.

“You don’t need to say anything, Louis. Just go talk to Dr. Carter.”

“Yeah... okay,” Louis gets up from his chair to go find Dr. Carter. He has to sit outside of his office for half an hour, but Louis feels strangely confident from the talk he just had with Harry. Maybe he is getting better after all.

Louis’ talk with Dr. Carter goes fairly well, and ends with the psychologist telling Louis that he’s proud of him and that he should be able to leave the next day.

---

Louis didn’t expect to get so emotional about leaving the psych ward. There’s a small sending off party, which really only consists of Louis, Harry, Liam, and Zayn playing Candy Land. They even manage to get Alberto to join them for one game, before he has to go back to doing whatever babysitters do when they have no one to watch. Everyone in the ward even gets a slice of cake with their lunch. Louis is packed and ready to leave shortly into their post-lunch free time, but not before being ambushed by his friends.

“Do you really have to go?” Liam asks with some hardcore puppy dog eyes.

“I’m ready to get back to my life, man. To actually live it too,” Louis says.

“I won’t forget you.”

“If you’re ever out and about hit me up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty cool. Zayn too.”

“Th...thanks,” Zayn says softly.

“No problem, mate,” Louis replies and then turns to Harry who’s been oddly quiet throughout all of this. “What, no confession of undying love or gratitude, hero boy?”

“Congrats,” Harry says softly, refusing to look Louis in the eyes. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Louis is surprised by the overwhelming urge to give him a hug, but does so anyways. And Louis most definitely does not like the feeling of Harry’s warm, strong arms around him. “Seriously, thanks for everything,” he whispers in Harry’s ear.

“You’re welcome, Lou,” Harry says as he hugs back. Louis isn’t quite sure where the nickname comes from, but he doesn’t really care. He squeezes his arms around Harry once more before turning his attention back to Liam and Zayn. Louis doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around Liam.

“Look after hero boy for me,” he whispers in Liam’s ear.

“Look who actually cares,” Liam teases.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis pulls away and punches Liam’s arm jokingly. Louis is shocked to see Zayn put out his hand. Louis looks to Liam who is equally surprised by Zayn’s gesture. Louis takes it slowly, and before he can do anything else Zayn quickly pulls it away, and hides his face in Liam’s neck. “Okay, I’m gonna go now. I hope to see you guys again, on the outside of course.” Louis quickly grabs his bag and heads toward the exit, not wanting his friends to see how choked up he really is.

---

It’s strange how long it takes Louis to get back to the normality of his life. Even though it had only been a little over two weeks, he had grown used to the routine of the psych ward. Wake up. Breakfast. Medication. Free Time. Group. More Free Time. Lunch. You get the idea. And he’s trying his best to get on his own schedule. He wakes up everyday and forces himself to get out of bed even if it’s the absolute last thing he wants to do. He’s started taking his Prozac regularly as well, because it actually does help him feel better. Who knew? If he didn’t have his job at the bookstore still job, Louis wouldn't be dragging himself out of bed. Would probably stay there all day and mope. So it’s a good distraction, and helps keep his routine structured like it was in the ward.

Louis really needs to thank Niall somehow. While Louis was locked away he had called the bookstore and now Louis still has a job to go back to. He deserves a fruit basket or maybe a twelve pack of Guinness. The owner vaguely knew where Louis had been, but is polite enough to not pry. One thing that Dr. Carter had told Louis was to make more friends on the outside. And since most of the things the doctor told him have kind of worked Louis gave it a shot. Louis’ coworkers, who were a bit skeptical of him at first, due to the fact that he’s never talked to them, quickly warmed up to him.

He's decided that they aren’t the worst people in the world and make his work experience just a little bit more pleasant. There aren’t any awkward moments in the break room during lunch or Louis feeling completely left out at a joke someone had shared. Now he’s not afraid to join in too. They go out once a week to a pub for karaoke, and invite Louis now. He had accepted once and it was fun enough, but he wasn’t too keen on being the only sober person in the group. Even though he hadn’t had any alcohol that night, he was tired enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Louis isn’t really sure why he’s been having trouble falling asleep recently. All of his life he’s always been able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. But now he just lies in bed for hours and hours trying fall asleep, to no avail. Louis’ tried everything even, drinking warm milk, which he found to be disgusting, and counting sheep. He had counted up to 134 before he finally gave up and drank some cough syrup. Louis knows he shouldn’t, because he could become dependent on it, especially with depression, but sometimes he has to work early and can’t fall asleep. He is not a pleasant person to be around when he’s only had two hours of sleep. Luckily, he has Saturdays off and can try is his best to get his sleep schedule on track.

Louis is on the brink of sleep, when his phone starts vibrating harshly against his bedside table. Louis groans and decides not to answer it, if it’s important they can leave a voicemail, and what kind of asshole even calls at 5 in the morning on a Saturday anyway? The phone stops ringing and Louis let’s out a sigh of relief, which is short lived as the phone starts ringing again. He slaps his bedside table blindly before coming into contact with his phone. He presses the accept button without checking the caller ID.

“What?” Louis snaps.

“Is this Louis Tomlinson?” the woman on the other end asks.

“Yes. Why are you calling me so early in the morning?”

“I’m from Hotchkiss Hospital and there’s a bit of a situation... and we need you.”

“It’s been a month since I’ve been there. What could you possibly need?” Louis sits up slowly and rubs his face with one hand.

“It’s Harry, um Harry Styles. He well, he’s going to hurt himself, and he’s only willing to talk to you. Please come as soon as you can.”

Louis' blood runs cold. This is not good. Very, very not good. Louis had thought about his friends back at the ward nearly everyday. He wanted to call or visit, but couldn’t muster up the courage to talk Harry for some reason. Liam hadn’t said anything during their last conversation. Dammit. It seems obvious to Louis that Harry is trying to prove something. Trying to prove he can fly for one, but maybe something else too. Something or someone must have set him off. The last thing Louis wants is to step foot in that psych ward, but if he can help Harry then he will.

“Uh yeah, yeah. I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Louis hangs up quickly and jumps out of bed. He throws on the first clothes he touches and barges into Niall’s room. “Ni, you need to wake up, we gotta go.”

“Go back to bed, Lou. It’s too early for this shit,” Niall groans.

“It’s Harry, ya know that guy I told you about in the psych ward? He’s threatening to hurt himself somehow and he’ll only talk to me. I need you to drive, the tube isn’t quick enough.”

“Shit,” Niall says slightly more alert. “Just lemme get some proper clothes on and I’ll meet you in the car yeah?”

“Thanks Ni. I really owe you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Start the car, I’ll be down in a minute.”

Louis practically sprints to the car, grabbing the keys off the coffee table and starting the car so they don’t waste any time. Niall is down within thirty seconds and quickly puts the car in gear. They drive to the hospital is silent, Louis too caught up in his own thoughts and Niall not wanting to pry.

Louis doesn’t understand how this could be happening. He gets that Harry isn’t totally stable, but in the two weeks that Louis had spent in Hotchkiss, not once did Harry have any sort of mental break. Why hadn’t Liam mentioned anything out of the ordinary? Fuck. What if this is my fault somehow? It makes sense, me leaving has been the only change in Harry’s life for the past month. Everything else is practically the same. Fuck.

When Louis and Niall arrive at the ward 15 minutes later there are two police cars and an ambulance outside of the hospital. Fuck. Louis thinks. He sprints to the front door, only to be stopped by a police officer.

“You can’t come in here sir,” the man says pushing Louis away.

“I got a call, I need to see Harry. He wants to talk to me,” he screams, using his entire body to try and get past the officer. He is much bigger than Louis however, so his attempts are futile.

“Let him in," Alberto says slightly frantic and opens the door for Louis.

The lobby is crowded with at least forty people, a mix of nurses, doctors, guards, and police officers. Nearly everyone is looking up, wearing similar looks of shock and concern. The majority of the officers seem strangely calm and are talking to one another, or radioing for backup. Louis doesn't really want to think about why everyone's attention is upwards, and really really he hopes he's wrong. Oh God.

He stops in his tracks when he finally sees Harry standing on the railing of the the second floor. Louis’ breath catches in his throat, and he can feel his heart racing in his chest. From ten feet below Harry’s face doesn’t betray any emotion.

"Louis! You came!" Harry yells when he spots Louis, a large grin spreading across his face.

"H-hey, hero boy," Louis says calmly, even though every fiber in his being is screaming at him to, well, scream. He wants to tell Harry off for being stupid, and more importantly to get down from the railing immediately. But, of course that might just make him jump. Fuck. Louis doesn’t even know what will set Harry off. "They... uh, they said you wanted to talk to me."

Harry nods his head vigorously, like an excited child.

"I'll be right up there okay? Can you just... just stay there yeah? Let me talk to you up there, okay?"

"Sure, Lou!"

Louis quickly turns around to see Alberto a few feet behind him.

"This way," he says before heading toward the elevator.

Louis follows quickly. "Why the hell is he doing this? How the fuck did he even get access to the second fucking floor?"

"He said he wants to talk to you. Also that he doesn’t want to die.. But that’s all we know,” Alberto doesn’t waste any time, immediately opening the door with his badge and doing the same at the elevator.

“I suppose that’s good. But he’s still threatening to hurt himself, ” Louis scoffs as the doors open. Alberto presses the button for the second floor, and the door close button twice.

"Look," Alberto says as the doors close and the elevator starts moving. "He's been up there for at least half an hour if not more. We've tried everything to get him down, but nothing's worked. Just get him over the railing. Okay?”

“Sure.”

The doors open and Louis lets out a deep breath before stepping out of the elevator. Harry spots him immediately.

“Louis!” he says, the excitement in his voice clear. “I’m so happy to see you again.”

“Yeah. Me too, Harry,” Louis replies, slowly walking towards Harry.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because... because the people most important to me always go away.”

“That’s not true -” Louis starts.

“Yes it is. My sister. My mom. You. Well you’re back. But they’re both gone. The two most important people aren’t here.”

“And doing this is going to help bring them back?” Louis is within arms reach now, and he wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he also doesn’t want to startle Harry.

“No no no...I don’t want to die. I just... I need to prove this. I don’t like being called crazy anymore.”

“Nobody is calling you crazy, Harry. And I’m here with you now,” Louis says desperately. From the way Harry is talking, he only seems more determined to jump than when Louis came up here. Louis racks his brain for something to get him over the railing, anything. “I’m not going away. I thought about you everyday out there.”

“Really?” Harry has a hopeful look on his face.

“Really, really I’ll be here for you...you don’t need to prove anything to anyone, ever, Haz.”

“Haz?” Harry giggles.

“I honestly don’t know where that came from,” Louis says sheepishly. “You seem like you could use a hug, and I know I definitely need one,” he adds with a little more force behind it.

Harry gets over the railing as quickly as possible and wraps his arms around Louis. Louis squeezes him enthusiastically, relishing in the warmth of Harry's arms and the fact that he's not on the lobby floor. Louis just kinda wants to hold Harry forever and maybe kiss him too... Wait, What? Louis probably shouldn’t be thinking that, but he can have an existential crisis about it later.

Their hug is cut short by someone roughly pulling Harry away from Louis. He’s shocked to see three guards dragging Harry away. He's pretty certain one of them has a syringe in his hand. His suspicion is confirmed when Harry stops struggling and his body goes limp in the guards’ arms. Louis lets out an inhuman shriek and launches himself in the direction of Harry. But Alberto is quick to grab a hold of Louis’ biceps.

“Let me go!” Louis cries, fighting against Alberto’s grip, to no avail.

“I can’t, I’m sorry, “ Alberto replies.

Louis wants to scream again, but he knows it won’t help the situation at all. So he stops struggling and stays silent, watching the guards drag Harry into the elevator. As soon as the doors close Alberto releases Louis from his grasp. Louis runs to the elevator and presses the down button repeatedly. But when the doors open thirty seconds later, it’s empty. Louis gets in slowly, and holds the door for Alberto, because he may be pissed as hell but he’s not a complete ass.

“You should be able to see Harry in a few hours if you’d like,” Alberto says.

“Sure. I think I’ll just head home for now though. Take everything in or whatever,” Louis replies.

The doors slide open and Louis is grateful to see Niall waiting just outside the elevator.

“Let’s go home,” Niall says and slings a comforting arm around Louis’ shoulder as they walk to the door.

The only thing in Louis’ head is a replay of the last twenty minutes and a constant stream of Harry, Harry, Harry . Harry could’ve seriously hurt himself, and Louis can’t help but feel responsible for the incident. And before Louis even realizes what he’s doing, he shrugs Niall’s arm off of him and walks towards the front desk.

“Louis, what are you doing?” Niall asks incredulously, following a few feet behind him.

“Give me a sec,” he says as he approaches the desk. The receptionist from his first day is sitting behind the desk, and Louis finds it a bit ironic. “I want to check myself voluntarily.”

“Dude, are you sure?” Niall asks.

Louis turns around quickly to face his friend. “Absolutely. You should have heard what he said to me up there. I can’t... I can’t leave him. Not now. I feel like I’m responsible for this.“

“Like hell you are.”

“He basically said it was for me. Not exactly those words, but it seemed pretty clear,” Louis says, pointing vaguely upwards.

“Woah. You can’t blame yourself for this, okay please don’t beat yourself up because I know that’s what you’re gonna do. You haven’t seen him in a month, you don’t know what he’s gone through in that time. Promise me you won’t blame yourself.”

“But, I-”

“No buts. Repeat after me. ‘This is not my fault.’”

“This is not my fault,” Louis mumbles.

“Again.”

“This is not my fault,” Louis says again, with a bit more confidence.

“Good. Now just keep repeating that. I can be back with a bag in like an hour or two,” Niall says.

“Thank you,” Louis replies, relief flooding his body. He gives Niall a short hug before turning back to the woman.

“Alrighty. I just need-”

Louis hands his phone over before she can finish her sentence. She gives him a small smile.

“Now you just need to sign and Alberto wi-”

Louis signs the papers silently and walks towards the door to the ward without another glance backwards.

“There’s only one doctor here-” Alberto starts, right behind Louis as he walks.

“I want to see Dr. Carter. Whenever he comes in I’ll do the check in stuff,” Louis says quietly.

“I suppose we can make an exception. Your friend is right though. This isn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for this, Louis,” Louis just picks at the hem of his sweatshirt. “Fine. I’ll come back in a couple hours to get you then,” Alberto replies.

The first thing Louis notices as he walks further into the room, is that the ward is much creepier with nobody in the large communal area. All of the lights are off except for a few, most likely for safety reasons. And the silence is deafening. The entire place just feels inexplicably different than the last time he was here. The second thing he notices is that he’s not alone in the large room. There's somebody reading on the couch in the back of the room.

As Louis gets closer he realizes it’s Liam. He let’s out a small sigh of relief as he approaches him. He stands at the opposite end of the couch hoping Liam will notice him, but he seems to be oblivious to the world around him.

“What the hell are you doing up this early?” Louis asks with a smirk. Liam jumps a foot in the air.

“What the hell are you doing back here?” Liam asks in reply, the shock apparent on his face.

“Were you so wrapped up in your book that you didn’t hear anything from the lobby?” Louis takes a seat in his chair.

“Maybe...” Liam answers sheepishly while closing his book.

“I had to talk Harry down from the second floor railing.”

“Fuck. I knew something was off with him yesterday. I should have paid more attention...”

“Don’t blame yourself. You can’t take care of everybody. Plus it was my fault.”

“You can’t blame yourself either.”

“See that’s where you’re wrong Liam,” Louis pulls his knees to his chest.

“You can’t fucking do this to yourself. You know, as well as I do, that Harry isn’t completely healthy. You can’t blame yourself.”

“Yeah, well, here we are,” Louis answers bitterly. He pauses before saying, “That’s why I checked myself in. I wanna make sure he’s okay.”

“At least you can talk to Dr. Carter about your guilt for something you have no control over.”

“Where’s your other half then?” Louis asks, changing the topic.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing," Liam gives Louis a pointed look. "Zayn is asleep. This is about the only time I get to myself anymore. Not that I mind spending time with him, but everyone needs alone time.”

“True that.”

“You look awful,” Liam says bluntly.

“Thanks, mate.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“I just meant you probably need some sleep is all.”

“Wish I could, mate. Sleep doesn’t come so easy anymore. I might eventually zonk out here for a bit,” Louis says, his sentence punctuated by a yawn.

“Seriously go to your room. There’s nothing happening right now. Don’t make me get Alberto.”

“Fine, fine. You win, you prick,” Louis gets up from his chair and shuffles toward his room.

“Love you too,” Liam calls softly after him.

Louis just throws him the middle finger. Once Louis is in his room he flops down unceremoniously onto the bed, and falls asleep almost instantly

---

Louis is very confused when he wakes up. Right away he can tell he’s not in his flat, the sheets on the bed are too scratchy, and the room is too bright even with his eyes closed. He doesn’t feel hungover at all. So why is he in a strange bed with no memory of... Everything comes rushing back, just like that. How could he possibly forget? Louis lets out a groan and rolls onto his back, his eyes still closed. What time is it? he wonders.

“It’s nearly noon.”

Louis’ eyes shoot open as he sits up, like he’s been woken up from a nightmare. He's greeted by the sight of Harry sitting calmly in the crappy chair by the desk.

"What the-" Louis starts.

"They uh... let me out of the padded room a while ago. I've been here for like an hour..."

"I didn't know you were a vampire," Louis replies snarkily.

"Heeeey. I'm nothing like Edward."

"Just a joke, Harry," Louis swings his legs over the side of his bed and rubs his eyes. "So, how are you?"

"Umm, okay," Harry scrunched up his face. "I still feel kinda off. It's… not from what they gave me to sleep, that wore off."

"Maybe it's just because of this morning," Louis says seriously.

"No, no. This started before that. A few days ago. I feel… hazy I guess… and just all around not good. Maybe it's those new vitamins they're giving me."

"What new vitamins?" Louis asks, more alert than he was two seconds ago.

"I don't know. They just said they'll help." Harry shrugs.

"Son of a bitch." Louis stands up and pulls Harry out of his chair by his wrist before walking out of the room. He heads right for Dr. Carter's office, pulling Harry along with him.

"Louis, what are we doing?" Harry asks, confused more than anything else.

Louis doesn't bother knocking on the door and walks right in.

"You son of a bitch," Louis hisses.

"Louis it's nice to see you… and Harry. What can I do for you?" Dr. Carter smiles and leans back in his chair.

"How could you not tell Harry about the 'vitamins' he's taking."

“I can’t discuss Harry’s treatment with you. You know this Louis.”

“Okay... but this is fucking important."

"Louis, you need to calm down," Harry says.

"If you knew Harry..."

"So let Dr. Carter tell me and you should wait outside. Because you look like you're about to hurt him."

"But..."

"Please Lou?"

Louis can feel a rush of warmth through his body at the nickname. It relaxes him enough to nod his head in assent. "I'll be right outside then," he says before exiting the room.

As soon as the door closes, Louis starts to worry again and can't help himself from pacing back and forth.

This kind of information would probably be bad for Harry on a good day, let alone an incredibly shitty one. Louis just wants to be in there to support Harry, to advocate for him or whatever. He wants to cuss Dr. Carter out for not telling his own patient exactly what he was receiving as treatment. On some level, Louis understands why Harry couldn't have known, but all he cares about is making sure Harry is okay in the aftermath of this morning’s events.

Louis isn't sure how long he's been pacing before the door opens and Harry comes out alone, his mouth set in a hard line.

"So?" Louis asks.

Harry fish mouths a couple times, completely at a loss for words.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Harry shakes his head.

"Do you wanna go to the couch?"

Harry nods slowly.

"Okay," Louis places his hand on Harry's shoulder and slowly guides Harry towards their usual spots. Louis goes to sit in his chair and sees Harry still standing, staring blankly at the wall. Louis sighs softly and helps Harry take a seat before sitting in his own chair. "You can talk whenever you're ready. Okay, Haz?" Harry nods and brings his knees to his chest.

Louis doesn't think he's ever seen Harry look so vulnerable in all the time he's spent in the ward. Harry has always seemed so confident, almost bordering on cocky more often than not. His always expressive face, is unreadable. They sit in silence for hours, Harry in a near catatonic state and Louis trying his best not to stare at the clock. Louis thinks this is the longest Harry has gone without saying something, since he's met him. It's very worrisome, and Louis hopes that Harry's silence doesn't last too long.

---

It's nine full days of Harry clinging to Louis' side, total silence from the curly haired boy, and Louis freaking the fuck out, before Harry finally speaks again.

"So, I actually am crazy," Harry says softly, as he and Louis lay spooning in Louis' bed one night. They've taken to sharing over the past week, mostly because Harry refused to leave Louis alone for more than ten minutes at a time. And the more contact between them the less agitated Harry seemed to be. It's completely platonic spooning. At least that's what Louis tells himself.

"What?" Louis asks, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at Harry.

"I mean... Dr. Carter told me that I can't fly. I'm not really sure about most of what he said though, I was pretty zoned out. So..." Harry rolls over so he's facing Louis.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but he's just trying to help, Hazza."

"Talking about 'fanciful thoughts' and whatever. Fuck that."

"Hey, c'mon now, only I get to say that about Dr. Carter," Harry laughs softly at Louis’ joke. "So, now what?"

"Well, Dr. Carter said that they are still trying to find the right medication to help me. And that what happened last week was most likely just a side effect of what I was taking in the days leading up it."

"Are you okay?" Louis asks.

"I'll be okay eventually. Once they find the right medication apparently," Harry replies.

"You know you can talk to me whenever right? About anything?"

"Yeah. Thanks for everything, Lou," Harry smiles and rolls onto his other side again.

"It's good to have you back hero boy," Louis whispers after he's sure Harry is asleep.

---

Life in the ward continues as normal after that day. Not that it had really stopped being normal and on schedule as always, but having Harry fully back makes Louis' day that much better. Louis has never been more grateful to play four games of Candy Land in a row. He had grown tired of reading non-fiction books, the only kind allowed on the shelves of the ward, to pass the time. Seeing Harry smile again makes Louis smile. He just can't help it, and so what if he laughs at all of Harry's terrible jokes. It doesn't mean anything. And he most certainly does not have feelings for hero boy.

"You like him don't you?" Liam asks one evening, when Harry is in a one-on-one therapy session.

"What are you going on about, Payne?" Louis asks, not looking up from the pages of the biography on J.K. Rowling in his hands.

"You fancy Harry."

"Wha...no...no...I mean, just...no. That's ridiculous," Louis closes the book without marking his spot,

"Your inability to speak normally begs to differ," Liam gives Louis a knowing look.

"Fine. So maybe I fancy him just like a little. Are you happy?" Louis admits exasperatedly.

"Not really."

"What more do you want from me, Liam?"

"You need to talk to Harry about your feelings. He didn't shut up about you for nearly the entire month you weren't here."

"Really?"

"Really. So you two need to get your shit figured out."

"Is now the best time though? I mean his world has kinda been turned upside down in the last week and a half."

"I think you'll have to figure that out for yourself, Tommo."

"Yeah, I know.”

"Seriously though Louis, If the way you talk in group is anything to go by, sometimes you're not the best with talking about your feelings.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Louis scoffs. “My longest relationship lasted four months and ended because I shared stuff that he didn’t care about. So yeah maybe I am emotionally stunted, but it’s because of him and a few other guys who didn’t actually give a shit about me.”

“Harry cares about you though, like a lot, and anyone with eyes can see you care about him too. So figure it out before it’s too late and you end up regretting it.”

“Yeah, yeah, Payno,” Louis says as he watches Harry walk towards them.

“What are you two talking about?” Harry squeezes next to Louis in the big comfy rocking chair. Liam gives Louis a 'Go'on' sort of look.

“Nothing. Just Payne talking some shit. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over,” Louis smiles and starts playing with Harry’s hair. Harry doesn't ask any more questions after that, just closes his eyes and practically purrs like a kitten. Liam give Louis an exasperated look, that he does his best to ignore.

---

"What are you even going on about, Harold?" Louis laughs as he and Harry lay facing each other on his tiny bed a few nights later. Louis still hasn’t talked to Harry about his feelings. Even though there have been opportunities, it just never seemed like the right time.

"What? It's true! Oysters really can change their gender, and like more than once in their lives." Harry answers with a smile.

"How the hell do you even know that?" Louis laughs again.

"I learned a ton of animal facts when I was younger. Thought I'd work at a zoo or something by now." Harry's smile quickly turns into a frown.

"Tell me some more weird animal facts." Louis pokes Harry's arm a few times, trying to get him to smile.

"What was that for?" Harry grins.

"Dunno," Louis smiles back and shrugs with one shoulder. "Tell me more, hero boy." Louis expects for Harry to reply right away, but he stays silent his face pinched in concentration. "Haz, is something wrong?"

"'M fine," Harry mumbles, not looking Louis in the eye.

"I can tell you're not. C'mon, you can tell me anything." Louis pokes his arm again.

"I guess, I mean," Harry still avoiding Louis' eyes. "I don't really think I wanna be ‘hero boy’ anymore."

"You mean you don't want me to call you that any more?"

"No, that's fine. I just, don't wanna be a hero anymore." Harry finally looks Louis in the eye. "Is that okay?"

"Of course," Louis says soothingly. "Is there any like reason why?"

"I dunno. I just don't really think I'd be any good at it." Louis stays silent and thinks about how to answer.

"Are you sure?" Louis puts his hand on Harry's arm and rubs it soothingly.

"Yeah, I think so at least. I mean I don't have to be a hero or be able to fly to save people you know?"

"Yeah. You should tell Dr. Carter that tomorrow. He'd see it as progress."

"Okay, yeah. I will. Thanks Lou."

"No problem, Haz." Louis takes his hand of Harry's arm.

Neither of them say anything for what should be an awkward amount of time, but they aren't perturbed by the silence. Louis is seconds away from falling asleep, but fights to keep his eyes open.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry whispers nervously.

"What?" Louis’s eyes shoot open as he pulls his head back to look at Harry better.

"I was reading this all wrong, wasn't I?” Harry says, scrambling to put as much distance between him and Louis on the small bed. “Fuck. I'm sorry just forget I sa-"

Harry is cut off by Louis' lips on his. Louis pulls back after a few seconds.

"You're not wrong. I've been told I’m not good at expressing emotions sometimes. Well, most of the time actually." Louis decides to look at Harry’s shirt instead his face. Harry’s shirt won’t judge him.

"I just so happen to be pretty good at that. So think we can manage."

"When did you and I become a ‘we’?" Louis asks jokingly, looking into Harry’s eyes.

"Just now... or was I not reading that correctly?" Harry says.

"I'm just teasing. I also joke about serious things a lot FYI, part of not being good at showing emotions."

"I think both of us have our fair share of problems. I'm sure we can work on all of them together down the road," Harry smiles widely, dimples showing, as he pulls Louis closer and kisses his forehead.

"I like the sound of that," Louis mumbles as he snuggles into Harry’s chest before falling asleep.

Louis wakes up in the morning with his head on Harry’s chest, half of his body on top of Harry’s and their legs intertwined like some sort of human puzzle. I could get used to this, he thinks, before nuzzling his face into Harry’s collarbone and going back to sleep.

11 months later

"Louis were gonna be late!" Harry yells through the apartment.

"I'm coming!" Louis says, walking through their bedroom door while fixing his hair. "Do I look okay, babe? And you took your meds already?"

"You look fine, and yes of course," Harry rolls his eyes and opens the front door. "You don't even need to be dressed up."

"I need to look presentable at least," Louis follows Harry and locks the door behind them. "I don’t want to look like a hobo."

"You never look like a hobo. Even in joggers and when you haven't shaved for a week."

"You're biased though." Louis says as he starts walking down the stairs to the parking lot.

"So? Your ass still looks phenomenal one hundred percent of the time," Harry replies, admiring said ass.

"Now is not the time for dirty talk, Harold. I don't need a semi when I'm getting a tattoo."

"It'd probably help keep your mind off the pain," Harry says getting into the passenger seat.

"No. I don't need the artist thinking I have a pain kink," Louis replies, starting the car.

"But you kinda do."

"Maybe, but I'm not an exhibitionist."

"True," Harry says thoughtfully. And then he gets an idea. He puts a hand on Louis’ thigh and leans over to whisper in his ear. "But I bet after sitting in the chair for a couple hours you'll be hard as a rock."

"Jesus Christ, Harry," Louis hisses through his teeth.

"What?" Harry asks innocently as his hand moves further up his boyfriend's thigh.

"Do you want me to crash this car? Because that's what's gonna fucking happen if you give me a handjob right now, or a blowjob for that matter. That would actually be worse." Harry pulls away from Louis and starts pouting. Louis looks over for a split second before turning his attention back to the road. "Once we get home you can give me whatever kind of 'job' you want, okay?"

"I think I might have to take you up on that," Harry waggles his eyebrows.

"You're such an idiot," Louis says fondly.

"But I'm your idiot."

"That you are." Louis pulls into the parking lot of the tattoo parlor and parks close to the entrance. He goes to take the keys out of the ignition, but stops with his hand on the keys. Harry is already halfway out the door, eager to get his new ink.

"Lou? You okay?" Harry asks, clearly concerned

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Let's do this," Louis says with a tight smile.

"Are you sure? We can always reschedule."

"Yeah. I just always get a little nervous before getting a new tattoo," Louis says as he turns off the car and gets out.

"Yeah? It's not the fact that were getting couple's tattoos?" Harry asks as he walks to Louis side of the car.

"No, babe of course not! I'm totally ready for this. I've never been more ready for anything in my life," Louis takes Harry's hand in his as they walk towards the entrance.

“Okay, let’s do this," Harry says opening the door for Louis.

---

"Why the hell were you squirming so much?" Harry asks when they get home nearly five hours later with identical bandages on opposite wrists.

Harry had gone first and only winced a few times for the entire two and a half hours he was in the chair. Louis however, couldn't sit still no matter how hard he tried to stop or how many times the artist warned him about messing up.

"Dunno, nerves I guess," Louis shrugs and takes his shoes off.

"You we're trying not to get hard, weren't you?"

"No of course not, hero boy. Why would you even think that?"

"You totally were!” Harry says as he moves to sit the couch.

“No, I wasn’t,” Louis says as he straddles Harry.

“Whatever you say, babe,” Harry says after giving Louis a quick kiss.

“Tell me about why you wanted to get the anchor so badly again,” Louis whispers as he lightly runs a finger over Harry’s bandage.

“We’ve already talked about this,” Harry replies with a small smile.

“Yeah, but now you actually have it, and I have the rope. Plus I really like hearing you explain it.” Harry sighs dramatically and Louis slaps his bicep. "You like explaining it too. So start."

“It’s because you’re my anchor. You keep me grounded. Figuratively and literally.”

“Babe, you know that you can’t-”

“I know that now, but a year ago was a pretty dark time for both us. But even through all of your stuff going on, you helped me more than you could possibly know. And I’m not just talking about The Incident. I saw you come into the ward with Alberto that first day and I just kinda knew there was something about you. You helped bring me back to reality, Lou. You kept me on the ground at a time when that was basically the last place I wanted to be. You saved me.”

Even though Louis has heard Harry explain this at least a dozen times, his eyes still water as his boyfriend talks. Harry doesn’t say anything as he softly wipes the tears from Louis’ eyes.

“I know that our lives won’t be anywhere near perfect, and that there will be bad days for both of us; because we’re not just miraculously healed. But no matter how bad it gets, I’m in this for the long haul. I swear.”

“God, I love you so fucking much,” Louis sniffles.

“I love you too. Even when you’re all snotty,” Harry jokes. Louis hits Harry’s chest playfully.

“I take that back.”

“Too late, we’ve already got the tattoos.”

“Damn,” Louis smiles. “Let’s take the bandages off.”

“Yeah? Think we’ve waited long enough?”

“It’s not gonna ruin it. And I’m sorry for being incredibly sappy, and wanting to take them off at the same time.”

“You should be.”

“Oi, you went along with it so you can’t really say shit, Harold.”

“Touche. Now let’s do this.”

“On three, yeah?” Louis asks. Harry nods. “One, two, three.”

They take them off slowly, so as not to mess them up somehow. Even though Louis saw the anchor before the artist had bandaged it, he is still in awe of it. He runs two fingers over it almost reverently. He still can’t believe they actually got complimentary tattoos.

“You okay Lou?” Harry asks quietly.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Louis answers shakily.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Lemme see yours now, babe.”

Louis holds out his arm obediently as Harry runs his fingers over the rope permanently encircling his boyfriend’s wrist.

"Here, hold up your hand.”

“What?”

“Like in Tarzan, when he meets Jane for the first time.”

“You’re so lame,” Louis giggles, but complies anyway. Harry mirrors the action and their tattoos match almost perfectly. “God, we are both so lame and sappy.”

“Maybe,” Harry rests his forehead against Louis’. “But you love it.”

“Yeah, I do hero boy.”

Louis looks down at their tattoos lined up together and he just knows that they’ll be alright.