Louis Tomlinson
Harry had a wet cloth that he was using to wipe my face gently as we stood in the bathroom. I had showered after Zayn, and Harry being Harry had to play nurse.
"I could do this myself, you know," I managed to smile at him, his eyes looking back and a small smile coming across his face. I needed that smile right now.
"I don't mind," he spoke softly, before he gently used a cotton ball full of alcohol above my nose. I flinched a little and he noticed, "sorry."
"It's fine, love," I reassured him as I kept watching him. His face still looked much worse than mine, that was for sure...
"Harry," I managed to get out as he sat the cotton balls on the sink and rinsed his hands, "can I... can I ask you something?"
He shut the water off and dried his hands, his eyes looking back, "I guess."
"Would you consider help?" I asked him in almost a whisper. Harry didn't look at me; he kept his arms crossed in front of him and his eyes focused down on the rings on his hand.
"I mean... I mean, like therapy," I spoke again, before I gently touched his arm. He looked back at me and I knew that was a huge step for him... I knew it was a step he never wanted to take. Now, I didn't see any other option. If he continued to live with the mentality he had, it would kill him. And I wouldn't lose him because of that bastard.
"How... how can I go to therapy?" His voice cracked and his eyes not meeting mine, "I... no, I don't want to sit and tell someone everything..."
"Harry," I interrupted him, "stop. Stop now."
He closed his mouth and leaned back against the wall as I stood in front of him.
"This isn't your fault," I started, though I was fighting the urge to shout it again... I knew I didn't need to yell. Yeah, he needed to believe it, but he didn't need someone else shouting at him. "None of this is your fault. You have got to realize that. You need someone who can help you... who can explain why you feel like you do."
"Is there an explanation for it?" He asked me, his face vulnerable again as he stared back at me.
I stood still, looking at that face and remembering the first time he had ever looked at me in that way... standing on the balcony of that house when he was confessing to me what his life had become.
If I had known then how deep he was, would I have ran the other way? I knew I wouldn't have honestly; there was nothing that I regretted about meeting him, about becoming a part of him. He was everything to me now.
"I think there is an explanation," I finally replied, trying to nod. Harry looked back at me, "and I think you should talk to someone... I think someone needs to help you."
"I... I don't know...," he sighed out, "what if... what if..."
"Stop with the 'what ifs'," I interjected immediately, "no more 'what ifs', Harry. You know deep down that you should get help... don't you?"
He ran his teeth over his bottom lip, his eyes staring down.
I reached over and gently put my hand on the side of his face, then used the other to pull him in closer to me, "Harry, you've fought this alone for too long. You know that. I know that you know you need help..."
His eyes stayed on me, "how do I explain... how can I openly discuss him..."
"By just saying it," I responded flatly, "something you need to learn how to do anyway. You're always trying to conceal how you really feel from everyone, even me sometimes, and that's not a good fucking thing to do, Harry. You know that..."
He took a deep breath as my fingers caressed his cheek, before pushing his curls back.
"I told you I'd look after you," I whispered to him. He glanced back at me, his eyes full again, "I meant it. I need you to trust me on this... you need to see someone. And I'm saying all of this to help you..."
"I know," he spoke up, "I know you are..."
His arms pulled me into him and we stood there wrapped in each other for several seconds, Niall and Zayn's voices carrying from the balcony. They were talking about Liam and Sophia arriving back in the morning, though I wasn't really listening to them. My mind was too occupied by this person in my arms... and wondering what his mind must've been battling.
"Tell me something," Harry said softly before he pulled away. A small smirk crossed his lips, "when do you get to be the problematic one? It's rather exhausting on this end..."
I snorted before I even meant to, Harry's smile only growing as he stared back at me. That smile meant everything to me right now; after everything that had happened, that dimpled smile is what I needed to see more than anything.
I kept my eyes on his as I put my hands on his waist, "Harry, you can do this... you know you can. You are capable of doing so much with your life, but you've gotta change your mentality before you can ever see that... you're too lost in feelings of guilt, when you shouldn't be."
"You're right," he admitted to me, his eyes speaking nothing but honesty. He did realize it; I knew he did.
"So, will you see someone?" I asked him quietly, "I mean, I'll look into all of them for you if you want..."
Harry chuckled a little, "I knew you were going to say that..."
I smiled a little, "you know me very well, then."
He nodded a little, "suppose I do."
"I'll let you pick out someone," I started again, "I mean, I'm not trying to like force this on you..."
"I know that," he reassured me.
"I just.. I wanted to be clear..."
"Lou," he said softly, "stop. I know you're not forcing me to do this."
"I know... I just," I sighed and tried to find the easiest way to say this to him. "I want the decision to be your own... because no one should tell you what to do."
"You love me," he said, a small smile on his face, "and I know you're saying all of this out of love... it's ok. Really."
I nodded a little, "I just think... you need to heal, Harry."
I regretted saying those words... I didn't want to bring up any of it, but there was no longer a way around it. I had realized it, Zayn had realized it, Niall had realized it; Harry himself did as well.
We all knew this problem was bigger than Harry now... that there was no way he would ever walk away from this the same if he didn't seek help.
A long, uncomfortable pause filled the bathroom and I had wished with everything in me that I didn't have to say it... that I didn't have to stand here and face Harry like this. But I loved him. I loved him too much to ever turn back now.
"I... I think it's a good idea," Harry finally broke the silence as he stared at me. "I have a lot of questions... that I'd like to get answers to."
I gave him a confused look, "what do you mean?"
"Just... just things I notice myself doing," he tried to get out, though it seemed rather hard for him to admit.
"Can I.. can I ask? For like an example?" I asked him seriously.
"Depends on if you'll think less of me for telling you," he responded quietly.
"Harry," I stepped closer to him, "I... I won't ever think less of you. And I want you to tell me things. I do. Even if the things you share with me hurt, I want to hear them... because you've gotta start talking about it. You pretended for so long that you just came to a point where those 'motions', as you called it, became second nature to you..."
I took a breath as Harry's head rested against the bathroom wall, his eyes staying on mine.
"And you said it yourself once before... you always went to him to get it over with. And that he was just easier if you answered his texts," I explained, "you said these things out loud to me and I honestly never saw it for what it was..."
Harry looked down again, "have I ever told you how much I love your brutal honesty, Lou?"
I smiled a little, "I.. I got carried away again."
Harry smirked at me and opened the bathroom door. I followed him into the guest room, watching him stripping off his shirt and trying to find another t-shirt.
I lit a cigarette on the balcony while Harry fixed his white t-shirt, then his curls a little. He looked rough, yeah, but he was still so beautiful. And it honestly hurt for me to see him like this... but I knew he felt the same about me as he wouldn't stop insisting on helping me in the bathroom.
He pushed his hair back as he stood beside me, leaning back on the door, the wind blowing his curls as he blinked slowly. Rain was falling still and it didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon.
I took a hit, keeping my eyes on Harry, then took his hand, his eyes meeting mine. I just smiled and pulled him out into the rain, and his face lit up as I did.
"Should we dance in the rain again, love?" I asked him, giving him a grin.
Harry smiled, his dimples showing, "I'm actually quite exhausted, so I'll take a rain check on the rain dance."
"Bloody hell," I chuckled, Harry snickering, "that was a terrible one, Haz."
"I thought it was pretty funny," he grinned and raised my hand up to kiss it before he smiled back at me. He really was one of a kind.
He picked up the cigarettes from inside and lit one before looking back around, "you know, when you were at Darren's, and I didn't know what was happening, I was thinking about what you said... about the rain making me feel as if I was free..."
I stayed quiet as I watched a small smile cross his face.
"It used to seem to make me feel that way," he went on, "but... I think it's because I often wished the rain could like fall on me and rinse me... I don't know if that even makes sense..."
"Makes loads of sense, love," I gave him a reassuring nod, "or perhaps the rain makes you feel clean."
He glanced back, "yeah, exactly."
He took another hit of the cigarette before looking back off, "it's kinda sad, isn't it? Me, being 20 and old enough to be on my own, with my own place, making my own choices, yet I still feel..."
He stopped and I knew he was struggling to get it out... I knew how hard it was for him to admit some things now.
"...Like you're not free at all?" I managed to say for him.
He pushed his hair back and sighed a little.
"Look, I know this shit is hard for you to discuss," I told him, placing my hand on his waist, "but, you've gotta learn how."
"You didn't kill him, did you?" He asked me out of nowhere. I stared at him while he held eye contact with me.
I bit my lip and fixed my now wet fringe, "I knew that was coming; no... no, we didn't kill him."
He nodded a little, looking as if he had already figured that out. He probably had somehow.
"What now?" He spoke softly.
"We don't worry about the bastard," I started, "block his number, for one. Let Zayn and I worry about his location and shit."
Harry glanced back at me, "what?"
"Nothing," I said, "I just meant... Zayn suggested we keep an eye out... just in case."
Harry managed to nod a little, but I could tell his mind was filling with worry again; of course I was wondering how it would play out now as well.
"I don't regret doing it, Harry," I told him, "and I mean that... even if I would've killed him..."
"I know you mean it," he mumbled back.
"Talk to me," I almost whispered as I stood against the railing in front of him, both of our shirts soaked now with the rain.
"I... I don't know what to say," he spoke, pushing his wet hair back.
"I'm sure you have some thoughts in there," I told him. He stared at me as if he was questioning whether or not he wanted to talk about it. "Don't... don't be scared to tell me whatever it is you need to get out."
He shook his head a little, closing his eyes, "I just..."
He breathed out a heavy breath, "I love you, Louis. And what you did for me..."
"Harry," I started, rubbing his waist gently, "don't..."
"I just wanna know why the thoughts won't go away," he admitted finally, keeping his eyes turned away, "I want them to."
"They will," I assured him, "look, we'll find the best therapist in London..."
"Do you really think a therapist can fix me?" He asked me, "really? Do you think me sitting down and explaining everything that has happened to me is going to make a difference?"
"I do," I replied confidently, "because I think you'll realize that you aren't the only person who's been where you're standing right now, Harry. You're not. You're not the first, and you won't be the last."
He nodded but looked so unsure.
"Hey, it's going to be alright, love," I stated as I put my arms around him, "I promise."
Harry's eyes met mine and he smiled finally, "I believe you."
He placed his hands on my shoulders, "I don't know if I've told you how much I'm glad you stayed... you could've bailed on me forever ago, before you found out anything... but you didn't. And... I'm thankful for that."
I grinned a little, "yeah, well, I've been sort of whooped for you from day one, you know."
Harry chuckled a little, taking his hand and running it down my cheek gently, "it's mutual, Lou."
I stood there studying his eyes, wishing with everything in me that I could somehow fix him... that I could take all of this away.
"Are you sick of looking for escapes yet, Harry?" I asked, my voice cracking as I stared at him. I knew he needed honesty, but some things were hard to get out. This was in particular because he had looked for escapes everywhere; I knew that he even knew this by now.
He bit his lip and stood next to me against the railing, "I... I think I am, yeah."
Zayn appeared in the balcony doorway, his eyes on Harry. "Hey, you ok?"
Harry glanced back at him, and he smiled a little, "I'm still here, so yeah... I'm ok."
Zayn smirked as he walked out to us, his eyes looking around the streets below.
"Worried, Malik?" I asked him.
He turned back to me, "no, I'm not worried. I'm just expecting hell to break loose soon."
Harry looked back down and I knew the subject was making him uncomfortable again. He didn't need to hear about Darren right now, or anything to do with him.
I slipped my hand around Harry's waist and pulled him closer to me, a small grin appearing on his face.
"Hey," I started, causing Harry to glance back at me, "the story ends well, love. It always will."
He grinned even more, "where did that phrase even come from?"
"I... I don't know," I shrugged and smirked, "it just hit me that day we were discussing me being Peter Pan... remember?"
Harry laughed a little and nodded, "I remember, yeah. How can I forget you telling me 'Peter fell for a girl'."
"Are you mocking me, curly?" I asked him jokingly.
"I'm not," he laughed and studied over my face with his eyes, "I'm just... thankful, I guess, that I turned out to be your Wendy."
"That was rather corny," I grinned and pulled him closer to me, Harry laughing a little as his arm went around my neck, his hand gently squeezing it.
"May have been corny, but it's the truth," he said back before his lips kissed my cheek gently. I couldn't help but smile when he did.
"You two are something," Zayn spoke up, causing me to turn back to him. I had almost forgotten he was standing here with us honestly.
"Do we make you want to vomit?" Harry asked Zayn with a smug grin on his face.
"No," Zayn laughed back, his eyes on Harry, "it actually makes me happy... to hear you two."
I glanced from Harry to Zayn, both of them just staring at each other for a long pause.
"Thanks," Harry managed to say to him, "thanks for doing what you did... you and Lou both didn't have to..."
"Harry," Zayn interrupted, "don't thank me. Don't thank Louis. We all know the bastard deserved what he got... even you know it, whether you want to believe it."
Harry's eyes fell again before Zayn stepped over, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder gently, "I know you're probably feeling guilty right now that we did this for you... but we chose to. Louis and I both chose to do it..."
"I know," Harry mumbled but didn't look back at him.
"But none of this is your fault," Zayn whispered to him, making Harry look at him, "and you know that. You've gotta know that, Harry. You've gotta start seeing this for what it is... it's mind manipulation.... it's mind control. It's something that he has done to you since you were 16."
Harry was becoming upset again, but I knew that Zayn was only speaking the truth; Harry really needed to hear this from someone other than just me.
I gently squeezed his waist while I watched him. He finally glanced back at Zayn, "I'm... I'm gonna see someone..."
"Therapy," I told Zayn as he looked at me, "he's gonna start seeing someone about this."
Zayn almost looked surprised but nodded, "I think... I think that's a good idea, Harry. I'm sure it's a step you never saw yourself taking..."
"It is, yeah," Harry nodded a little, and I could tell he was fighting his emotions once again, "but... I just... I want to be normal."
I felt the pain from those words shoot through me; I knew it had taken a lot for him to even say that.
"I mean, I don't know if normal is even a term that will ever apply to me again," Harry went on, keeping his eyes down.
"No one is really normal," I spoke up, causing Harry to glance back, "but no one should keep living with the mindset that you have; it'll destroy you. You know that."
Harry tried to nod, his eyes looking off again.
"Hey, I'm about to make a food run," Niall spoke up from the bedroom, "anything you lads want particularly?"
"Yeah, come to think of it, none of us have even eaten today," I smiled a little.
"I'll ride with you... give these two some time alone," Zayn offered and smiled at us.
"Zayn," Harry spoke up. Zayn turned around and looked back at him from the doorway, "thank you."
Zayn's face eased into a grin, "it was my pleasure, babe. Really."
He walked in and I couldn't help but snicker at his reply. Harry smiled as he stretched a little, then leaned over the railing, his eyes glancing down at the passing cars.
"Should we... should we start looking into someone?" He asked me slowly.
"Yeah, that would be nice," I nodded, his eyes meeting mine. "I love you, Harry. And I know the thought of telling someone scares you..."
"I'm not mentioning his name," he replied quietly.
"You don't have to," I assured him, "alright? But I do want you to tell them truth... about everything. You can do that without naming him..."
He nodded a little but seemed so unsure. And I could imagine that he was; hell, the last thing I would want to do would be to sit down with someone and tell them every detail of a relationship that never should've happened. Of course he was nervous and unsure.
But I knew he wasn't the only one who had been through this; people went through this every single day. Maybe their stories weren't as complex as Harry's, but it did happen. And it was time he realized that he wasn't the only one; it was time for him to see that.
That evening, I sat in bed for hours looking up different therapists with Harry asleep next to me. He had been sleeping for hours after finally taking something that would help him sleep. He really needed it.
He hardly ever slept; I don't know why that I hadn't questioned his sleeping habits before. He was constantly tired, yet he was constantly unable to sleep. Suddenly, every little detail that I hadn't seen before was staring me in the face.
He never slept, he constantly used drugs as his escape, and he kept so many things hidden inside. It felt like I was watching the victim in an abusive relationship; Harry had all the same signs.
I stumbled across one page that also listed these signs and symptoms. I sat up some, my eyes hurting from sitting in the dark this long with my laptop.
I read over the signs and symptoms and it all made sense: Stockholm Syndrome. I glanced back at Harry sleeping next to me, the only thought going through my mind being that he was going to overcome this. And that I was willing to do anything to help him.