Don't Let Me Go || l.s.

Chapter 12 - Losing Grip

Louis backed up from Harry as he watched the other throw the home phone across the room, wide eyed and not sure what to do. He quickly made his way back up the stairs and into Harry's room, where he grabbed Harry's cell phone and scrolled through the contacts until he found 'Mum'.

The phone rang a few times until the other end picked up, and Anne let out a laugh. "It's 3 in the morning and I'm working, Harold."

"A-Anne?" Louis slid down the now closed bedroom door to drown out Harry's echoing sobs and him throwing odd and in things downstairs. "It's Louis . . . I . . . it's about Harry."

"Louis? Oh, what's wrong? Is Harry alright?"

"I don't know, I don't. He's downstairs crying and throwing things and I don't know . . . I don't know what to do." Louis shut his eyes as he held back tears whenever hearing glass break from downstairs and Harry loudly scream "fuck."

He guessed she could hear what happened over the phone because she gasped, "it's one of his episodes. My God, he hasn't had one of those in awhile. I'll go and clock out now, but I need you to calm him. I don't want him to thrash around, it caused him to have a seizure once. Don't let him tug on his hair because that just makes it worse. Just hold him and talk to him and get him back into reality. When he has his episodes . . . he's not himself."

"O-okay, thank you." Louis breathed before ending the call and cautiously made his way downstairs into the living room, where things were strewn around but no Harry. "Harry, baby," he said softly while making his way through the kitchen doorway to find Harry standing by the islander, head down with his fists curled tightly.

Louis noticed blood dripping onto the floor, making him wince but even with doing so, he still made his way over to him. He lifted Harry's left hand and Harry didn't put up a fight whenever Louis uncurled his fingers. "Oh my . . ." Louis whispered, seeing shards of glass sticking into his palm, blood seeping out.

"I want them to go away," Harry said, looking down blankly at the red blood that had dribbled on the kitchen tiles, making its way into the cracks.

"What do you want to go away?" Louis asked while guiding him from the kitchen and into the downstairs bathroom.

"These memories. Will you make them go away?"

The pain and vulnerability in Harry's voice made Louis' heart ache for his boyfriend, because what exactly could he do?

Louis stayed quiet as he sat Harry down on the toilet lid before grabbing a pair of tweezers from a drawer and a bottle of peroxide from the sink cabinet. "Harry," he started, voice quiet while he carefully picked out a small shard of glass from Harry's hand. "What . . . memories do you want to go away?"

"The ones about my father."

This, Louis knew, was a touchy subject for Harry. He had brought it up a few times but Harry would get tense and change the subject or just stay silent, so Louis got the hint on not to bring it up unless Harry did himself.

The sound of sniffling brought Louis from his thoughts and he looked up to see tears falling down Harry's cheeks. "It's fucking with my head, all of these memories." Harry choked out, using his free hand to tug roughly on his hair. Quickly, Louis set down the bottle and tweezers before taking Harry's glass-free hand into his own. "Just make them go away!" Harry nearly screamed into Louis' bare chest which was now wet with tears.

"Shh, just let it out, Harry." Louis whispered while resting his chin on the top of Harry's head, placing multiple kisses through the curly brown locks.

After Harry let out most of his tears, Louis resumed to pick glass from Harry's hand and tossing the pieces into the trash. "This is going to feel weird and might sting a bit, alright?" Louis sighed whenever Harry didn't speak, so he just tugged Harry's hand so it was over the tub and proceeded to pour peroxide over it. Not once did Harry flinch or move, but his breathing intensified.