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Chapter 11: Louis

He blinked, trying to take in his surroundings through the bright light of the room. He was lying in a foreign bed, the TV in front of him flashing news in silence, captions scrolling across the screen too fast for him to read. There was a window to his right, displaying the city around him. Finally he turned to the visitor chairs and...there was Harry.

He tried to talk but it came out scratchy and quiet. "Haz..."

Harry snapped his head up from where it rested on his chest. He was on Louis in a flash, tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh my God Louis, you have no idea how worried I was! When..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter anymore. How do you feel?"

Louis hesitated, closing his eyes as the memories came flooding back. His dangerous rescue plan, talking to Harry's kidnapper face to face, gunfire, then an incoherent mass of pain and confusion.

He tested his arm, flinching at the ache and tightness in his chest. Still, it was far better than he'd been expecting.

"Fine. Do you...do you have any water?" Harry's eyes widened in a 'oh' and he hurried out the door, returning moments later with a full plastic cup. Louis nodded thanks, taking small sips. Finally he cleared his throat, a thousand questions swimming through his brain. Still, one rose above the rest.

"Harry, are you okay?"

Harry laughed nervously, running his hands through his hair in a decidedly un-okay way. "I-I don't know. I honestly don't." He wouldn't look at Louis, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry."

Louis sat up despite the pain in his chest and pulled Harry close. He didn't argue, just laid down across him and cried. Harry shook with uneven breaths while Louis rubbed his back, reminding him that he was there.

When his chest rose evenly against Louis', he finally spoke. "Sorry, I haven't done that in a while," Harry mumbled into his shirt. He sounded exhausted.

"Don't worry about it, I hate this fucking dress they put me in anyway." Harry looked up and smiled at him, his face blotchy.

"I knew you'd love it."

Louis rolled his eyes but grinned, relieved to see Harry smiling again.

"It's over now though. Amos...he's dead." His voice sounded hollow when he said it, but his shoulders relaxed as if a weight had been lifted off of them.

"Amos?"

"My kidnapper," Harry supplied, then explained what had happened. By the end of his story Louis was staring at him.

"Harry, you saved that girl's life," he said, grinning stupidly. Even after everything he'd been through, Harry's heart was just as big. But Harry lowered his eyes, looking guilty.

"Yeah, but, I endangered her too-"

"Harry." Louis leaned forward, cupping his boyfriends face in his hands. "It's not your fault. You are the reason he didn't shoot her. You were willing to..." He gulped. "You were willing to sacrifice yourself to save her."

"Learned it from you," Harry grinned tiredly, nudging him. Louis winced but stopped Harry before he could apologize.

"Sure did," His smile faded a bit. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, Lou. As long as you're okay, and never do anything stupid like that again," he stared Louis down, making him laugh.

"Scouts honor," Louis pledged. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, as long as you promise to stay with me from now on, it's fine. Besides, you're the one who almost died." Despite the solemn words, Louis leaned forward until their foreheads touched.