A Little More Difficult (Hybrid!Louis, Gifted!Harry, AU Larry Stylinson! *COMP*)

Chapter Eleven. (11.)

I jumped as I heard the voice, my head snapping back.

Liam.

My mouth spoke the word before my mind could even recognize it. I didn't have to think about the voice, but I did think about the trouble that came with it. Liam... Liam. The boy who was my best friend all through-out elementary school. Liam, the Liam who was the child I used to stop from getting bullied. Liam, the boy who hung himself in grade 11--at the age of 16.

Liam was here in my house. Liam was here with me, again. Liam, the same Liam who had been bullied all years until death. Liam, who got rejected by the same boy 42 times; Liam, the one who left the whole school in awe and shock at his passing. 

"It's been years, Harold." His smooth voice let the words fly out of his mouth in a tune compared easily to a lullaby. I gasped as tears flew out of my eyes faster and faster. The black spark in his eyes, the golden tint to his hair. The rope-burns that looked fresh. His stance was tall, about 5'11, the height he was. His button up black shirt was undone, the sleeves pulled up. Every scar, the dried blood still there. Blue jeans hanging low around his waist, barely above his pelvic bones. He looked how he did a year ago, when I found him...

There was no way to explain it. I knew though, at that moment, I knew he was a demon; I knew Sally had turned him into one. I knew it, and he knew that I did too.

We locked eyes, brown to green. The conclusion in his eyes was immense, yet confusion over took it. You could tell he easily was confused into a) how he is now 'living' again, nonetheless why he was looking at me, and b) why I have a boy by me, snuggled into my chest, sleeping softly a snoring puffs of breath into my cotton shirt.

My voice was watery and thick, shock in my voice. "Why are you here?"

"Of course, you know the answer to that." He pulled something out from behind his back. 

The rope had blood in it, dried. His. Liam's. Next thing you know, I looked up.

We weren't in he room anymore, I couldn't hear the faint sounds of Bambi playing in the background. I couldn't see the lights casting shadows over the beautiful boy that lay on my chest. Speaking of the beautiful boy, he was no where to be seen either.

And that scared me.

"Liam?!"  My voice echoed through the building where I stood. "LIAM!?" 

I tried to move, but couldn't. I tried to scream again, but couldn't. All I got in reply was a small 'shhh'. And so, I did. 

I saw myself, myself in a suit and tie, standing on a podium. I saw his family, my family, cousins, uncles, aunts, everyone. But still... no Louis. But then, as I looked, I saw him. But no, not how I wanted. I saw him, in a casket, closed. And how I knew it was him was the name etched into the coffin. 

And then, with confusion etched onto my face as I could feel, we were morphed. I saw myself, bending down over something. But as the figure turned, it wasn't me.. It was a boy, younger than myself. Someone smaller, too, shorter.

"Daddy.." The boy whispered to the coffin, but of them. "Dada.." His head turned a fraction to talk to the other. "Why did she have to... to take you away from me? Why you?" The boy's voice was so broken, tears over-filled in my eyes, dripping down my lashes. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped a little. My hand flew up to wipe my tears on my sleeve,

"Sad, isn't it?"  Liam had a solemn look on his face, grave, his eyebrows burrowed low. Sadness was in his eyes for a reason. Way to ask the obvious. "Yea...Who--"

"Your son." His voice sent a shiver of realization down my spine. Something I wished to never realize again.

And then it faded out.

*-*-*

As I opened my eyes, the dream had me puzzled. Louis was no longer on my lap, but just like in the dream, was laying on my chest, snuggled into me.

I sighed, watching the ending credits of Bambi, trying to shake it off. Shake off that feeling of being watched. Shake off that feeling of chocolate orbs dug into my back.

And I couldn't. Because I know he's there. I know Liam is really there. I know what that dream meant. I know, and I know that he knows that I do.

He was warning me; warning me that she was coming. Warning me that she was angry--that she would kill. It meant she was coming... and she isn't happy.

And as I turned to thank him, to try to give him a thank you, a last thank you, all I saw was an open window, and a boy with wings.

 Vote and comment your favourite part? C: I'm sorry if it doesn't make sence! If you have any questions, which I know you might, just ask.