My Own Savior || Larry Stylinson AU

Prologue

Harry's POV

I have always been a bad boy, ever since I was young. It really was inevitable.

Being "raised", if you can really call it that, by my mother Anne, and my sister Gemma. My mother was a prostitute and my sister, slowly following in her footsteps. I don't think I was always this bad... but then, I've been in and out of juvenile facilities, and jail ever since I can remember. Being the only male in the house, it was always my responsibility to take care of the girls, as soon as I was old enough. Which meant fighting countless men to protect my mom and sister from abuse; both verbal and physical. It eventually wore on me, and I decided one day to make those men afraid, instead of my family and I. I bought my first gun (illegally) when I was eleven, and it was all downhill from there. Possession of guns turned into possession of marijuana turned into possession of heroine.

That's how I ended up here, at HM prison in Bristol.

Some days I hated it, but most days I was indifferent, just floating through life, as "Harry Styles the fuck-up." Like I really gave a shit about what any of the people here thought of me.

It was the beginning of August when my usual way of life got turned upside down.

"Harry, come to the door and place your hands through the slot," the officer of my block said.

That's odd... it's not time for lunch yet so why are they bringing me out? 

I hesitantly took the six steps to the cell door and placed my hands in the slot, as commanded. I thought about asking what was going on... but I really, I couldn't be bothered with it. The officer cuffed me with the metal bracelets that I hates so much, and then opened the cell door.

"It's your lucky day, Styles," he commented as he led me through the long hallways. I scoffed, the idea of me ever being lucky was completely absurd.

We ended up in Warden James's office. I was led to a chair and then the officer stepped back out into the hallway.

"Hello Mr. Styles, how are you today?" Warden James asked with a friendly tone in his voice. I cleared my throat and replied, "Brilliant."

Like he really cared... no one has ever cared.

"Well, despite the fact that you rarely converse with anyone here, myself included, you haven't had any outburst for the past few months. I've decided it's time for you to move on from this place. I'm sending you to a rehabilitation facility in South Yorkshire." He spoke slowly and never moved his eyes from me.

"Rehab?!" I growled. "I've been on my best behavior for the past six months and I'm awarded with this bullshit? I'd rather stay here than be around a bunch of idiots trying to "get help" and "express their feelings." That sounds like torture," I said all in one breathe.

I couldn't believe this... rehab just sounded so uninviting. True, my current residence wasn't exactly inviting, but it had grown familiar to me. I had heard too many stories of people committing suicide in rehab, because stress and temptation to relapse, to care to go there.

"It's not up for discussion, I've made my decision. I feel as if it will benefit you more than this place. Now go. Officer Rainn will take you back to your cell to collect your things. You leave in an hour." His voice told me not to challenge his decision any further.

After about forty-five minutes I was being led out of my cell for the last time. The idea of leaving here was beginning to grow on my a little... but I still wasn't looking forward to being in rehab. I really just wanted to be left alone.

"Good luck Styles. Don't come back, yeah?" Officer Rainn said with a smirk. He removed the handcuffs and I felt myself shiver, hopefully this would be the last day I ever felt them against my pale wrists. 

After all the release paperwork was completed, I got my clothes back that I was wearing when I was brought in. The black skinny jeans were a tighter than they had been originally, as well as the Ramones t-shirt, since all there was to do in an 8x8 cell was work out. I made a mental note to see if I could get a few new clothes when I arrived at whatever rehab facility I was going to. I had already forgotten the name.

The drive there seemed fairly quick, I guess since it had been so long since I had been in a car, watching the scenery fly by around me. It was nice to be outside of those cement walls and barbed wire for a change.

As we pulled up to the big grey-stoned building, I tried to accept the fact this would be my home for a while. I grabbed my one small bag of belongings from the seat next to me and got out of the car. I was greeted by a woman in her thirties I guessed, who had long, silky black hair and a small waist. "Hello! Welcome to Linwood Park. I'm Zoe. I'll be helping you get checked in and show you where you will be staying," she said with a warm smile.

"I'm Harry Styles," I said dryly as I followed her through the doors.

Linwood park was actually a pretty nice facility. It had seven different housing halls, for different levels of the program. I learned that I would begin in level three, since level one was for people who had just arrived off the street, still on drugs, and level two was for people who were still dealing with withdrawal symptoms severely. I had been clean for eighteen months so I only had withdrawals occasionally.  

"Alright, now that all your paperwork is on file, follow me this way to the level three housing!" Zoe said enthusiastically. I nodded, and looked around at the various people and scenery as we moved through the hallways.

Some people looked happy to be there, and others looked like they were on the verge of dying. We stopped at room 304. "This is your room Mr. Styles, I hope you like it. I'll let you get settled in and be back in thirty minutes." She left without hesitation.

I looked around at the tan walls and was glad it was bigger than my old cell. There was a decent sized bed in the left corner of the room, and a small chest of drawers in the right corner. Through a little door connected to the room was a bathroom, and I was grateful that it was more than just a silver toilet and a shitty sink. I would actually be able to shower without people watching me.

I put the few things I had in the dresser and placed my bag under the bed. I wondered how being here was going to work out for me. I made a mental pro-con list of what I knew so far, and so far it wasn't so bad being here.

I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes since i still had about fifteen minutes before Zoe would come back, according to the cheap silver watch on my left wrist.

I must have fallen asleep because I was suddenly being lightly shaken awake by a pair of strong, but soft hands.

"Mr. Styles... wake up." A male voice said. I opened my eyes suddenly startled by what was happening. I looked up and I realized that the person waking me was not Zoe, but the most beautiful boy I have ever laid eyes on. 

He had soft, feathery brown hair, swept off his face to the right and sticking up in various directions. His skin was tan and looked softer than velvet. His eyes were the colour of the clearest blue oceans, and his small lips, the most perfect shade of pink. I gasped silently as he spoke.

"Sorry to wake you, but I'm supposed to show you to the dining hall. Zoe had to take care of something. I'm nurse Tomlinson, but you can call me Louis." Was this a dream?

He smiled, and when he did it reached his eyes as well. It made his face glow like some sort of angel in the world of broken people I had recently become a part of. I felt myself smile, and I couldn't remember the last time I had involuntarily done that.