Close to Nowhere (Larry Stylinson)

seventeen

Harry squeezed his shoulder and they met each other's gaze for a moment. The flicker of the burning house reflected in Harry's eyes and they shared a silent moment of camaraderie and understanding. Then they both looked away, watching the fire instead. Louis let his sight go blurry and unfocused, everything fading into the background.

There were secrets that lived inside the walls and those were the ones that Louis and Harry found. They searched for the truths that hid in dark quiet places. It wasn't an easy occupation. It created a life full of leftover sorrow from spirits who still couldn't put an end to their suffering, even in the afterlife.

Clairvoyance made it hard to function in reality, and it was worse off when he was alone because no one else understood him. But he had Harry. Harry had been with him for three years, ignoring Louis' stubborn attempts to reject his olive branch of friendship, and for once Louis respected, admired, and even felt grateful for his tenacity.

"I'm so fucking glad you're alive," Harry said, eyes still on the fire. His voice was low and deep like sinking into a dream. "You don't even know how many times I saw that ending differently. I dreamt about it every night."

That was what Harry had been trying to tell him this whole time, Louis realized. All the warnings and overprotectiveness, the strict adherence to the rules... Obviously he was trying to keep him safe, Louis was always aware of that. But what he hadn't known was the extent to which Harry had been foretelling his demise. He couldn't image what that must've been like, seeing Louis end up maimed or dead and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Louis pulled the mask away and tried to speak. He coughed and hacked and then gave up, letting Harry help him put the mask back on. The pure oxygen was crisp compared to the smoke he had inhaled in mouthfuls back in the house. It felt soothing on his sore throat and raw lungs and he knew he would be feeling it for a while after this. But he was alive. He was alive.

Removing the mask, he tried again. He coughed and Harry rubbed his back through the blanket. When he finally croaked the words out, his voice was hushed and raspy.

"It was because of you," he forced out, nothing more than a whisper that would've been carried away in the wind if Harry hadn't been listening so intently, gaze caught on his face, all of his attention on him. "It was because of you, I-" he coughed, and wondered if he should say what came next.

"Take your time," Harry soothed, gentle and caring because yes, that's what he was always like with Louis when it came down to it, gentle and caring beneath all the fighting and the bickering and the annoying each other for the sake of pushing buttons. Gentle and caring even when he would squeeze Louis' wrists a little too tightly to make him shut up when he was being a brat. Gentle and caring even when Louis said he hated him and Harry said it right back.

"I saw us together," he managed through heavy pauses and breaths. He sounded like he had just chainsmoked for hours. "In a few years, just us..."

Harry's eyes lit up with recognition and he pressed the mask back to Louis' face to give him more oxygen. It spoke well to the same wavelength they were on, that he knew what Louis was talking about when his words were hardly coherent. "The house by the sea..."

They stared at each other until Harry removed the mask for Louis to speak. "Yeah," Louis agreed, blinking because stupidly he felt like he was going to cry. "You've seen it too?"

Soft fingers reached out to trace his jaw and rub his cheek as Harry nodded. "I saw it after I visited you in Chicago for the first time. When I stayed the night at your place."

That was so long ago, before they hardly knew each other like they did now. They clicked right away though, not in a way that meant getting along, but in a way that meant not being afraid to insult each other and bicker constantly.

The first time Harry visited him in Chicago was only half a year after they first met, and they had only seen each other a handful of times since then. They cooked homemade pizza in Louis' apartment's small oven and ended up drinking enough wine to make it necessary for Harry to spend the night on his couch.

When Louis woke up late the next morning he found Harry half naked and exiting Louis' shower, smelling of his cocoa butter body wash.

"The rings," Louis said, remembering.

At that, Harry grinned, sliding his thumb over Louis' bottom lip. Clearly he had seen that vision before, and his feelings about it were clear with the way he was smiling, bright light a beacon in the darkness. "Is that something you want?"

Were they really talking about marriage two days after they first kissed? Yes, yes they were.

"Someday," Louis rasped, because he couldn't bring himself to be anything but honest.

Harry kissed him softly on the lips. It was chaste enough that it wasn't damaging to his breathing, although the simple touch did make his heart stutter, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"Someday," he agreed, a promise of sorts. Louis could still see it in his mind, the house by the sea. Opening the windows and hearing the waves crashing against the shore, smelling the salt in the air.

He imagined curling up on the couch and watching an incoming storm with Harry, cozy and wrapped up in each other, safe from the elements outside. It would be a nice reprieve from the cases they would work on together, because clairvoyance was a part of who they were and there was no way they'd be able to give it up, no way either one of them would ever stop working cases, stop trying to help people.

The world was chaos around them, the house still burning and the firefighters not being able to do anything about it. It was collapsing in front of their eyes, two hundred years of history burned to ash.

"The journals," Louis said, because that was all he could manage.

"I know. We'll give them to the sheriff. You shouldn't have gone back for them."

"I saved Charlotte from burning again." She had finally been released to the afterlife, no earthly wiles tying her down to the property anymore. She had been liberated, turned transcendent.

Harry stayed quiet but kept his eyes on Louis. Through the mayhem, they were in their own little world, wrapped up in each other. Sheltered from it all.

"Come back to Salem with me," Harry said, running his fingers over Louis' cheek again.

Louis listened to the sirens and the crackling fire and beneath it all the undertrack of crickets and frogs and the wind. A melody of nighttime sounds that would forever remind him of the short time spent in Sweetwater, sleeping with the windows open and getting to know Harry. Finding each other.

He thought about going back to his own apartment, his empty bed. He thought about going back to his big city where no one knew his name, where he could walk anonymously on the streets. It had felt empowering when he first moved there but lately it had been feeling lonely. And then there was Salem, with Harry.

He leaned into him, relaxing into his side as Harry wrapped both arms around him to keep him close. With his face against Harry's chest he could hear his soothing heartbeat and his slow, steady breathing. "Okay," he said, hoarse and muffled by his shirt which smelled like smoke.

Harry tapped his fingertips on Louis' back in a rhythmic pattern and buried his face in his hair. The sirens continued and the house burned and they held each other through it all, the sirens blaring, the people racing around, the world falling apart.

Tomorrow night they would be in Salem, crawling into Harry's bed after eating takeout and fucking in the shower.

Three years from now they would be moving into their new home and engaged to be married, making love on the floor before the bed was set up and talking and laughing all through the night.

And everything would be okay.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I originally posted this on ao3 but decided to share it here too. All comments and votes are appreciated! Tumblr: angelichl