The Difference Between Storm and Silence {Larry}•{BDSM}•{Hybrid}•{MPreg}

Chapter Twenty Eight

So this story will spiral really fast from here. I decided to do another book just cuz I can I got a really good idea that my friend RUmyCalPal helped me with. It'll probably be less then thirty five chapters. The idea needs another book. Sorry not sorry.

•M•

Harry is glad. He is so glad. He's never been this glad nor this relieved in his entire life. He probably shouldn't. He probably should be running around like a crazy chicken with its head cut off. He should be worrying and jumping and anxious, but he's not. He's so relieved.

Lou got released from the hospital. A few days ago. He still has Strep Throat, but the nurses gave him the okay to go home. Harry told him he dropped the case. Damn God if he did. Of course he didn't. Hes not just going to drop the fucking case. He's going to defend and protect his husband and his little unborn kitten, even if that means going behind Louis' back. But he's a lawyer, going behind peoples backs is what he does best.

Louis has gotten clingy. Not the annoying clingy, no. Harry loves when Louis gets clingy. It means either his heat is coming up or he's sick. But Harry knows he's just scared. He's scared to leave Harry's side. Scared that he'll get kidnapped again.

He's been having nightmares about what happened, too. He'll shake and quake in his sleep and wake up drenched in sweat and in odd positions. Sometimes he'll be upside down, with his feet on the pillow and his arms wrapped tightly around Harry's calve. Or he'll be half off, or maybe fully off the bed. He, even, one time woke up sprawled across Harry's abdomen, his head hanging off Harry's side of the bed.

But he's gotten all caught up on his medications. His miscarriage medicine, his prenatal pills, his vitamins, his antibiotics for the strep, and his prescription for schizophrenia. Harry is, of course, so proud of his little boy for getting through all that and rarely lets him out of his sight.

Louis still barely leaves the bed, still too weak, but when he does, Harry is always there, guiding him with a hand on his back and holding his small hand tightly. The doctor recommended that he go for a walk every day, extending the length by a foot or two each time. So it started out from the door to the bed, but they've been pushing it.

One time, while Harry was playing with the kittens in the den, across the house from the bedroom, while he thought Louis was napping, Louis showed up, out of breath, with shaky muscles, and just sat on the step and watched them for about thirty minutes before he fell asleep. When Harry went to go check on him, he stumbled, literally stumbled, upon the sleeping boy and carried him back to the room, making sure to scold him when he eventually woke up.

Its now the end of January. Louis has been home for a month and three days. He's been out of the hospital for two weeks and four days. He's been safe for zero.

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Late one night, the couple are still up talking, all cuddled up on the bed and whispering to each other like someone would hear. Harry is laying on his side, Louis cuddled up in a big black sweater of his. Louis is on his back, cuddled up with the sweater pulled up over his growing belly. Harry looks up fondly at him as the smaller boy speaks, his large hand petting down his Subs chest and over his baby bump.

"Babe?" Harry asks softly. Louis nods his head, rubbing the side of his stomach where he had a tiny, barely noticeable stretch mark, with a hum. "What - "

They're interrupted by the shrill marimba of Harrys phone going off. He groans and reaches over, taking his hands off Louis. Louis frowns, but replaces the mans with his own and rubs up and down his stomach lazily, looking down at it.