“So, what seems to be the problem Mr Hughes?” Harry asked genially, trying to hold back his yawn. He was so tired. First Monday back into an early morning routine after a holiday was always difficult, especially for doctors during the Christmas period. The number of sickness bugs in every community seemed to triple between the 27th and the 2nd but no patient wanted to hear it was food-poisoning from undercooking or poorly storing their festive leftovers. Also, nobody wanted to hear it ‘will pass in a few days – drink plenty of fluids and if you’re not any better in a few days or you suddenly get worse, call NHS 24 immediately.’ They were convinced it was something life-threatening and wanted drugs and admittance to hospital straight away. It was hard, especially when dealing with an anxious parent, to talk them into believing they/their child wasn’t bad enough to go to hospital let alone admit that the hospitals probably wouldn’t take them anyway because sickness bugs could too easily spread and cause an epidemic.
“Well it’s a mite uh… embarrassing Dr Styles,” Mr Hughes squirmed, giving Harry a big clue as to what was coming. Late fifties, slightly overweight, poor diet, lack of exercise, uncomfortable shifting, no obvious symptoms… he’d put his salary on it being haemorrhoids. He hoped it wasn’t haemorrhoids because he was quite looking forward to his lunch of leftover turkey and stuffing sandwiches and well… some procedures… like rectal exams… were rather off-putting.
“I can assure you there’s nothing you can say that will phase me,” he replied, with as gracious smile as he could muster.
“Well…” Hughes cleared his throat again, “it’s just… every time I’ve been to the toilet recently there’s been a bit of blood."
Harry groaned inwardly and gave the box of gloves and lubricant on the counter a dark look, as though their mere presence tempted fate.
“I see,” he said, leaning forward, “how much blood would you say there was? A few drops smeared on the toilet paper? Enough to turn the water pink? Or more?”
“Enough to turn the water dark pink,” Hughes admitted, blushing and tugging on the sleeves of his jumper nervously. There was something tragic about watching a burly middle-aged farmer squirm like a bag of worms knowing he was likely about to get probed in a place no straight guy wants to get probed.
Harry nodded at him and made a note about the pink water, “Is it dark or bright red?”
“Bright red.”
“Any pain?”
“A bit – often a prickling feeling when I go… like the sensation you get if you graze yourself. Other than that, I don’t feel anything except a slight itch.”
“I see,” said Harry, making another note, “have you been constipated recently?”
Hughes shifted again and looked away, clearly embarrassed as he scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, a bit, I admit Doc. With the run up to Christmas you tend to forego the good diet guidelines for more festive treats. May, that’s my wife, loves to bake up a storm and she’s gone all out this year with our Grandchildren visiting. I guess I haven’t been having as much fibre as I ought to.”
“Happens to us all,” Harry smiled, “it’s the plight of the festive season. Have you had any other symptoms? Headaches? Nausea? Back pain? Dizziness? Fatigue?”
“No sir,” Hughes shook his head, “nothing like that.”
“Well that’s a good sign,” said Harry, putting down his pen and looking Hughes in the eye. “So far, your symptoms suggest haemorrhoids or an anal fissure caused by your recent constipation – both of which are fairly easy to treat. A simple physical exam will be able to confirm either way.”
He stood up and walked around the desk towards the examination bed and started to pull the curtains closed around it, “I just need you to slip your trousers and underwear to your knees and lie face-down on the bed. Try to relax as much as possible – this may be a little uncomfortable but it’ll only last a minute or so.”
Poor Mr Hughes looked like he was heading for the gallows.
Five minutes later, Harry followed a very red-faced Mr Hughes out to the reception, the latter grasping a prescription for a soothing cream and a box of Fibregel. Harry tried to keep a straight face at the man’s awkward gait but it was hard going. It served the man right; Harry was going to have to throw out the leftover cranberry sauce as soon as he got home after the sight he'd just witnessed. There were some associations one just couldn’t work past.
“Oh dear,” Louise giggled, as Mr Hughes sidled awkwardly out of the door, not even offering a 'goodbye' as he normally would. “I take it we’re not going to be seeing Mr Hughes again for a while?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Harry chuckled, filling up the kettle, “I think he’ll need at least a year to be able to look me in the eye again.” After flicking the kettle on to boil, he leant back against the counter. “How many more have I got left before we close up?”
“Four,” said Louise, after checking the register. “Then, after lunch, you have five quick home visits plus the sample van to sign for. Should be done by three.” She paused then smirked as she added slyly, “I’m sure Louis will be pleased to see you back early.”
Clang! As Harry fumbled and dropped the tea-caddy against the counter. He spun around in disbelief. “How on Earth do you know about Lou and me! We only made it official the other day!”
Louise laughed, a little mockingly, “Oh honey, everyone knows. Surely you’ve learned that there is no such thing as a secret around here by now?”
For a few moments Harry fish-gaped. Then he spluttered, “Everyone?!”
Her eyes glinted with way too much amusement, “Oh yeah, everyone. Even Mrs Hodges up on Beancross knows. We think it’s cute.”
“Cute?” Harry choked over the words.
“Yeah, it’s cute. You make a cute couple.” As Harry continued to stare at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, she rolled her own, “Oh come on Doc, you and Mr Tomlinson haven’t exactly been subtle. Aside from your little protective display a few nights ago in the Wheatsheaf, and that little kiss in your driveway that was witnessed by… uh…” she coughed unsubtly, “a few innocent parties happening to walk by, you’ve been mooning over each other since day one. We all knew it was going to happen; it was just a question of when. There was even a running bet. I lost a fiver because you couldn’t find your balls on Guy Fawkes Night. But you can make it up to me by proposing to him next New Year’s – I’ve got a tenner riding on that. Best not to let me lose again – I do make your tea after all, and I control the biscuits.” With that she picked up a stack of files and strolled out of the room. Harry just gaped after her, wondering if he ought to invest in some net curtains for his bedroom… just to make sure.
~*~
“Lou, I’m home!” Harry called out as he unwound his scarf from his neck and shrugged out of his duffle coat. Good god, he was cold. He rubbed his hands together and padded through to the living room. Louis wasn’t there. He carried on into the kitchen and stopped, breaking out into a ridiculous smile.
Louis was sat at the breakfast bar, reading glasses pushed up into his hair and his dreaded lesson plan folder open on the table in front of him. His chin was resting on one hand, a mug held loosely in the other and… he was fast asleep. Harry chuckled; Lou really hadn't been joking about the tediousness of making up lesson plans.
Shaking his head, Harry walked over and slipped the mug out of his grasp – lest he really cause himself extra work by spilling it over the ‘folder of doom’. He then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Louis’ lax lips. Almost at once, Louis stirred, sighing and fluttering his eyes lashes and Harry's heart skipped a beat. “Good sleep?”
“Hmm?” Louis mumbled, slowly opening his eyes as he came to. “Oh,” he croaked, sitting up straight at the sight of Harry and wincing as his neck twinged. “Hi,” a soft sort of sleepy shyness crossed his face, which had Harry’s insides going all funny.
“If you were tired you could have had a nap on the couch,” Harry teased him, affectionately tapping a finger against his nose, “would have been a lot more comfortable.”
“Ungh,” Louis groaned as he rolled his neck again, wincing, “I’ll try and remember that next time I open that evil book. Never fails to conk me out.”
Harry moved behind the stool and gently placed his hands on Louis' neck, smoothing his thumbs over the expanse of pale skin. It seemed, finally, Louis’ tan seemed to crumpling to the ravages of winter.
“Mmm,” Louis groaned quietly, sinking into the massage.
“Where abouts?” Harry murmured, running his thumbs slowly up the side of the knobbly vertebrae.
“To the right…" Louis sighed, "bit higher, bit higher yet… right a little more… up… ugh there.” Harry pressed his thumbs against the spot lightly and started to circle them, slowly pressing harder and harder. “Oh god, mmmm, ye, agh, that’s so good. Love you so much. You’re amazing.” Louis groaned.
Harry chuckled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss the exposed jaw bone, right by Louis' ear. For a second Louis tensed up and then he just sort of melted on the stool with a soft whine. “So easy to please,” Harry teased, pulling back. Then there was a sharp tug of his curls as Louis reached back and fisted them, tagging Harry’s head down to his jaw again.
Something hot spiked in Harry’s veins at the physical demand and he kissed the spot again, this time grazing his teeth along the salty skin. Louis smelled gorgeous as usual; fresh, sharp and weirdly lickable. Harry nosed down the soft neck column, breathing in the cologne that suited Louis so well before nipping a trail of kisses and bites down until his head was buried under Louis' collar.
Louis giggled and pushed at his head, “Christ, you’re like a cat.”
“Meow,” Harry joked, nuzzling his face into Louis like a cat might before straightening up. “So, it seems as though the whole village knows we’re together.”
Louis snorted, “Somehow that doesn’t shock me in the slightest. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I don’t mind if people know. Kind of want to sing it from the rooftops to be honest but… I can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, like, you know, I’m on display in a goldfish bowl or something. Makes me nervous that people might be constantly judging my performance as a boyfriend – that’s a lot of pressure, considering I’m dating the village’s Golden Boy.”
Louis laughed and turned on the stool, slipping his arms around Harry’s neck, “I don’t think you have much to be nervous about. It’s only been a few days but I’m pretty impressed so far.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Louis nodded, eyes sparkling as he stretched up to press a kiss to Harry’s lips. “And I certainly have no complaints about your performance.”
Harry blinked, having not expected that kind of crude reference from Louis but finding himself very supportive of the development. “You know," he mused, rubbing his nose against Louis, "I like how cheeky you’re becoming.”
Louis shrugged and then chuckled, “I used to be a lot worse. Had a bit of a mouth on me when I was younger and a sense of humour that wouldn’t exactly please your Grandmother. Looks like some of it’s coming back. So uh… just tell me to shut up if it becomes too much. I don’t really know your limits yet.”
Harry snorted, “I’m a city boy, Lou. There’s nothing you can say that will shock me or put me off. Anyway, I love a bit of banter and, for future reference, I also like a good penis joke.”
There was a beat and then Louis burst out laughing. “Hey!” Harry protested, pouting as he knew Louis was laughing at him.
“I’m sorry,” Louis giggled, “but you’re wearing a sweater vest. Hearing you say you like penis jokes while dressed like your are is like hearing an old Victorian Aristocrat say he likes sweeping chimneys and shoe-shining in his spare time.”
Harry smacked him on the upper arm. “Hey I like my sweater vests, thank you. Don't go mocking them. They may be a little archaic but they keep me warm while I’m out on my house calls.”
“I’m sure they do, Granddad,” Louis chuckled. “Fancy a cuppa?”
“Yes please," Harry huffed before sticking his tongue out at Louis' retreating back.
As Louis set about making tea, Harry took a seat at the table. “What do you fancy for dinner tonight?”
“I don’t know," Louis replied. "I guess we’ll probably have to make a trip out to Tescos though since you threw out the last of the leftovers yesterday.”
“Could just go to the pub, I suppose,” said Harry, a little reluctantly. He didn't quite fancy having to share Louis' attention tonight. It might be because of him having to work all morning, hence losing time together.
Louis opened the fridge and then held up the plastic milk bottle, which had barely an inch left in the bottom, “Uh, we need more milk.” He announced and stuck his head back inside the fridge and looked around, “more butter too, some vegetables, and some bread for breakfast tomorrow and some toilet paper and…”
“We need to go to Tesco, I get it,” Harry sighed, thinking it might actually be nice to get out of the house together properly, even if it was just for an hour. “We'll bring something simple back for dinner too. So long as it doesn’t contain cranberries.”
“Cranberries?” Louis raised an eyebrow curiously but then held up his hand, thinking better of it, “actually, there’s a pretty good possibility I’ll regret hearing the answer so don’t bother explaining.”
“Hemorrhoids,” Harry said instantly, unable to help himself. Grossing people out was fun.
“I said I don’t want to know!” Louis cried, putting his hands over his ears and shuddering. "I think we ought to install a full ban of you describing any kind of medical ailment at all times of the day you are outwith the surgery."
They sat down on the sofa and flicked on the television while they drank their tea. Lord of the Rings; The Two Towers was playing on ITV – the channels still playing homage to the festive season by pushing as many alluring movies as they could into the schedule. In less than two minutes they were hooked and Tesco was pushed back on the urgency list.
During the break after Merry and Pippin were lulled to sleep by the tree, Harry took the opportunity to study his boyfriend thoughtfully as he continued to massage his feet. Louis’ feet were always cold – a by-product of being a little underweight. Luckily Louis seemed pretty engrossed in the Meerkat advert so it was unlikely he was about to get caught and teased for his interest.
“I can feel you staring at me like a serial killer,” Louis drawled, without turning. “Out with it. What’s on your mind?”
So much for not getting caught. “Can’t I just be appreciating you with my eyes without there being more to it?” Harry huffed.
Louis snorted and finally turned to face him, “That would be a sweet sentiment and believeable if you didn't have that constipated brow furrow thing going on that tells me your brain is working at a million miles an hour and possibly connecting dots that probably shouldn’t be joined for the sake of everyone.”
“Fine,” Harry huffed, “I was just wondering… if you were... alright?”
Louis blinked at that and sat up a little, wriggling his toes to encourage Harry to keep massaging them while looking at him in surprise. “Yeah I’m fine, why?”
Harry bit his lip, wondering if he was making a big mistake pushing this conversation so soon - if two days could be considered too soon. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Louis nodded slowly, smiling with no hint of insincerity, “I haven’t been this happy in a long time, Haz. Why?”
Harry fidgeted uncomfortably and turned his eyes back to the adverts on TV. Oh well, in for a penny in for a pound, as the saying goes. “It’s just… it’s been a couple of days now and you haven’t said a word about the whole Lottie and your sisters thing.” Harry immediately tensed, bracing himself for a rebuttal about his prodding of the topic.
“Oh,” was all Louis said, his tone reflecting further surprise rather than annoyance. Harry had been reluctant to bring any of it up, wanting Louis to talk about it himself, but the radio silence on the subject had been bugging Harry terribly and he didn’t want Louis suffering in silence if there was something he needed to talk about. Also, it was weird. Ever since that day in Exeter, Louis hadn’t really talked about his sisters or what happened and, considering the significance of the moment, Harry thought it would have been a bigger topic of conversation.
After they had said their goodbyes to Lottie in Exeter, Louis had been silent all through the journey back. That was only to be expected though. It had been an extremely emotional day for the young teacher; for, in nine hours, he had found and met a sister, gained two nephews and a brother-in-law, pinpointed the location of his other three missing sisters and lost a mum. Even now, it still pained Harry that he hadn’t seen that latter one coming and wanted to kick himself for not putting more thought into checking out Lottie’s back-story first. Then again, even if he had known in advance, what would he have done? Would he have stopped Louis from meeting his sister just because he didn’t want him to find out his mother had died? No, he couldn’t have done that – it would have been crazy and unfair. Maybe one huge rip of the plaster was what was best in the long run anyway – expose everything in a oner and heal a big wound rather than lots of smaller ones. And that, right there was why he was a Doctor and not an English scholar, he was terrible with analogies…
But it had been several days now and Louis was still silent on the subject and hadn’t even talked about the travel plans for visiting Lottie. Therefore, Harry had been growing concerned that maybe Louis was having second thoughts about going up to Nottingham at the weekend and was too nervous to tell Harry for some reason.
Harry wouldn’t be surprised about Louis having second thoughts. Even if it was only by Skype, it would be a huge moment seeing his little sisters for the first time in over thirteen years. His sisters would be completely different people by now; like strangers, and, considering the circumstances of the last time they saw each other, it would be enought to make anyone uneasy.
“I guess,” said Louis thoughtfully, finally answering Harry’s non-question, “I don’t know quite what to say. It still feels a bit surreal to be honest.”
“Oh,” said Harry, stupidly, congratulating himself on over-complicating the situation again. He would totally fail as a shrink.
“I think it’ll probably sink in when we go up there this weekend and I see the other girls for the first time – see them together,” Louis added.
“Are you nervous?”
“A little,” Louis admitted, nodding, “I think it would be weird if I wasn’t. I mean, we are practically strangers now and it’ll take time to reconnect to them. That won’t happen in one day. But I'm excited too. Can't wait to meet my nephews either.” There was no mistaking the genuine excitement in his eyes at that last bit. And Harry realised that this was probably because with his nephews Louis had a completely clean slate. He could be cool Uncle Louis without all the baggage of the past ruining it. Lottie had said she wasn’t going to tell her kids the truth unless Louis wanted her too, and certainly not until they were a lot older. The boys would never know the Tomlinson grandparents anyway, as one was dead and the other eternally estranged, so there wasn’t any point on complicating things or making anyone out to be a evil. Nobody wanted a monster in their family tree.
“What about…” Harry swallowed hard, uncertain whether he ought to bring up the other subject.
“Mum?” Louis guessed.
Harry nodded, holding his breath.
Louis looked back at the TV, teeth worrying his lower lip as he seemed to consider how to answer. “Honestly? I don’t know how I feel about that. I…” he pulled his feet away and sat up properly, frowning. “I… I can’t seem to feel…” he winced and closed his eyes, “I can’t seem to feel anything for her.” With that admission he stood up and started to pace, “I… I’ve thought about her death, quite a lot since Lottie told me. But I can't seem to feel anything - not sadness, anger, hurt, frustration, disappointment... I mean, she was my mother. Surely I should feel some kind of grief knowing she’s dead? Sadness that she’s gone? Sadness that I will never get to ask her if she regretted her actions? Sadness that she died thinking she’d helped kill her own son? But I don’t. Maybe then, I should feel angry? Angry that she was never brave enough to face up to her actions? Angry that I will never have the chance to confront her? Angry that I will never get proper closure? But I don’t. I don’t feel anything. I don’t even think it’s because I’m numb with the shock of it… It just… it just doesn’t seem to matter to me. It’s like… she means nothing to me… like she's a stranger I've heard about on the news. And… I guess…” he stopped and turned back to Harry, suddenly looking small and lost, “at the end of the day… she did become a stranger and… maybe her death really is meaningless to me? Oh god Harry.” His eyes widened in alarm and he reached out blindly as though to grab him, “What if that’s true? What if my mother really means nothing to me anymore? What if my head finally decided it would never let me forgive her, even if she had come back sorry, and has killed the instinctual family bond between us? What if… I’m not actually sorry that she’s dead. What kind of person does that make me? I don't care that my mother is dead?” Louis’ face crumpled.
Harry shot to his feet, “Lou! Lou! Hey now, calm down.” He reached out to cup Louis' cheeks in both hands, holding him steady. “What’s much more likely is that you’re still reeling from the shock of finding your family out of the blue. You said yourself only a minute ago that it all feels surreal. Therefore, it’s much more likely you’ve not yet accepted that any of this is real. How can you grieve for someone who you don’t truly believe is dead? That’s why you don’t feel anything. You’re still in the denial stage. Sure it’s not the denial that most people feel but it’s still denial.”
“I…” Louis swallowed thickly, stepping back, “I hope you’re right. I really do. I don't want to live my life knowing I'm no better than my stepdad.”
“You're nothing like him and I know I’m right,” said Harry firmly. “Now, how about I set the box to record the rest of the film and we go to Tescos before it shuts? Louise mentioned there was a threat of snow later on tonight so we don’t want to be snowed-in tomorrow without the essential supplies. It’s a very long walk into town otherwise.”
“Okay.” Louis agreed, knowing Harry was just trying to distract him but appreciating the gesture anyway.
They wrapped themselves up warm, complete with hats, scarves and gloves, grabbed their wallets and headed out to the Range Rover. Just before Harry pressed the button to unlock the doors, Louis grasped his wrist, making him stop mid-step.
“Harry…” Louis was biting his lower lip uncertainly, “I…uh... thank you.”
“For what?” Asked Harry in surprise, standing at ease.
“For…” Louis shrugged his shoulders, “being there for me I guess, for caring and worrying and reassuring me and for trying to stop me from thinking the worst in myself.”
Harry shook his head and smoothed a thumb over the back of Louis’ gloved hand, “you’re welcome but it’s not exactly difficult. You’re an amazing person Lou and a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’ve just had too many people treat you unfairly and that’s not your fault. Sometimes you just need to be reminded of your worth and that is definetely not a hardship on my account.”
“But," Louis burst out, "surely you should be with someone who has less baggage? Someone who you don't have to double think every thing you say to.”
Harry chuckled, “You think I don’t have baggage? Everyone has baggage Lou and, to be honest, I don’t really think about your baggage as being baggage. Your past and the way you handle it is just something else amongst many things that draws me to you. That makes me admire you. Why we fall in love with someone is complicated and usually something you can’t help, just like who you fall in love with.”
Louis reared backwards, looking up at Harry with wide startled eyes. “Wait. Are you saying you’ve fallen in love with me?” He asked breathlessly.
Harry’s heart stopped for a moment as he suddenly realised just how loaded his previous words had been and how his next answer could change everything. “I…” he stumbled, “I…” he desperately tried to gauge how Louis might react to either answer but then went for broke, “would it be too much too soon if I said I’m definitely… falling?”
For a long moment Louis kept staring at him with a wild sort of startlement but then, just when Harry was starting to panic, Louis launched himself forward, smashing their mouths together with a garbled noise that sounded like, “not at all.”
Harry staggered back against the car door in surprise but Louis didn’t let go – intent on kissing him to within an inch of life. Harry could do little but hold on and try to give back as good as he got.
A few wolf whistles from down the street did nothing but elicit a two fingered salute from Louis, which had Zayn’s cousins gaffawing as they continued heading towards the pub and Harry giggling into the kiss.
When eventually they pulled apart, Louis was glowing with giddiness and Harry knew it was probably reflected in his own face. He couldn’t help but stare at Louis’ lips, which were all spit-slick, puffy and red. It took a moment for him to realise they were moving in speech.
“Huh?” He said stupidly.
“I said,” Louis repeated with a crooked smile, “if you didn’t quite get it from my reaction, the feeling is mutual.”
“Oh,” said Harry. Then his eyes popped as he took in what Louis was saying too. “Oh!” And there it was; the goofiest, most love-sick grin he’d every produced – how glad he was that nobody else but Louis was there to see it. He’d never live it down.
~*~
“I swear it’s dropped ten degrees in the half-hour we’ve been in there,” Louis griped with a shiver as he opened the passenger door and jumped inside, closing the door quickly behind himself. It was a pointless move. Even inside the car he could see his breath mist and it had only been thirty minutes since the heater had been switched off. Behind him, Harry closed the boot and dove into the driver’s seat a second later, teeth chattering.
“Now I know why I never used to live right next to the coast,” he shivered as he quickly started the engine and turned the heater up full blast. “A sea breeze in winter has to be one of the most evillest things that ever existed. Christ, I think my eyes have frozen in their sockets.” Harry rubbed at them ruefully.
“Hurry up, hurry up,” Louis muttered to the heater as he held his gloved hands over the air vent. “Crikey, I can’t believe how dark it is already. It's like, pitch black.”
“I know,” Harry agreed, looking out the windscreen at the darkness as he switched the lights on, “and the longest day was over a week ago. I think Louise was right; we’re definetely in for more snow. Quite a bit of it, judging how heavy those clouds look.”
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a heavy snowfall around here,” Louis reminisced wistfully, “but I think we might be due. Let’s see what the radio has to say.”
As they pulled out of the superstore, Louis leaned over and switched the radio on. Adele was crooning her latest smash hit on the local but he knew it wouldn’t be long before there was a travel and news update so he didn’t bother retuning.
They had barely drove half a mile when the first tiny flakes of snow started. It was barely indistinguishable from drizzle as it hardly even smeared under the wipers. But, literally, within a few mintues it went from nothing to an all-out flurry. That’s when the travel news and weather jingled over the radio after a shortened version of Union J’s new release, “Meaningful”.
“And, now, here’s Jon with a weather and travel update… Thanks Steve. In the last hour, the met office has issued severe weather warnings for most of England. It was originally thought the Atlantic Winter Storm ‘Yule’ would only hit Northern Ireland and Scotland before moving on across the North Sea to Norway. But an unexpected cold front from the artic has slowed it’s migration northwards. Winter Storm Yule, which has brought most of Ireland to a standstill, is estimated to hit mainland Britain in the early hours of tomorrow morning - bringing heavy snowfall to most of the country. Snow has already been falling in Wales, Scotland and the north west of England since mid-afternoon – some areas reportedly having received half a foot already. It’s estimated the southwest is expected to receive at least eight inches overnight with more due throughout tomorrow and officials are warning everyone to avoid travelling over the next few days unless it’s an emergency. Drivers currently on the roads are warned to take extra care tonight as sudden snowstorms will make roads treacherous very quickly. Parts of the A39 and the A30 from have already been reduced down to just 15 mile an hour…”
“That’s not all that far from us,” Louis pointed out, peering uncertainly out of the windscreen at the billowing white, “depending on what section they mean... it could be less than twenty miles or so…”
Harry peered dubiously out of the windscreen too and saw the snow was just starting to hold itself on the ground instead of melting on instant touch. “I think we better hurry this up," he suggested, "If it’s bad on the main roads, it’s going to be absolutely hell on the back roads. We don’t want to get stuck, seven miles from home.”
“Not when it's this cold. And you’re on-call too. You have to get back.”
Harry shook his head, “Nothing I can do about it if I get stuck. While this vehicle is sturdy, it isn’t a miracle worker. If the weather makes it impossible to get through then it makes it impossible through. I'm just like any ground crew - bad weather can put me out of action. Therefore, if the roads become too dangerous any medical emergencies will have to rely on air ambulance - if ground crews can’t reach them that is.
~*~
How they made it back alive neither of them were entirely certain but it was certainly one of the most hair-raising journeys of their lives. It suddenly became all too apparent just how rolling the Devonshire countryside was now that there was half a foot of snow turning it into a giant ski slope. They made it as far as the small hamlet of Aveton Gifford before the snow got completely out of control. After that it became a nervewracking rollercoaster of spinning wheels going up hill, skidding tyres going down hill, swearing, breath holding and arms and heads bouncing off windows.
By the time they Range Rover had ground to a stop outside The Appletree both were pretty shaken up and there was a good three inches on the ground. It didn’t look ready to stop any time soon.
Harry quickly called the emergency operator and informed them, that unless the emergency was within a fifteen minute walking distance from his residence, he was out of action as a first responder. It seemed he wasn't the only one to do that in the county. He and Louis snuggled up under a blanket and finished watching the rest of their film before heading to bed.
It didn’t stop snowing until the next morning and, by then, there was easily a foot and a half lying around.
A few of the farmers drove their tractors around the main part of the village and managed to clear a single track path for vehicles to move about in. Most of the roads outwith the intimate surrounds of the village were still impassable though. With another fall expected later that evening, it was likely that they would remain so for at least another day, making Harry grounded as a first responder for another day too. So Harry and Louis puttered around the house, tidying and cleaning, getting ready for Louis to move back home. Harry tried not to feel too disappointed. It was likely they'd still end up spending most of their free time at each other's houses. No doubt, with in a few weeks, half the stuff Louis was taking away would be back. They were a couple. It was bound to happen.
Eventually, after locating most of his belongings, Louis sighed as he looked at his depleted suitcase and the bulging bags of laundry, “I really need do need to go home. Wow, I have no clothes left.”
“You know,” Harry chuckled as he diced up carrots for a pot of lentil soup, “you could have run your clothes through my washing machine before this. I wouldn't have minded.”
“Love, you wouldn't have had a washing machine left,” Louis declared dramatically. “I have a hard enough job working my own machine without trying to fathom out that incredibly complicated computer mainframe thing that you call a washer.”
“It’s very easy to…” Harry started to scoff.
“Break,” Louis finished, “and I have the running record for breaking washing machines in case you don’t know.”
For some reason Harry believed him. “Okay, let me finish making the soup and then, after lunch, I’ll drive you over and you can start doing your laundry.”
“Drive?” Louis raised an eyebrow. “It’s barely half a mile! I think I can walk.”
“Yeah, but there’s still tonnes of snow out there,” Harry pointed out. “Do you really want to lug all that by hand?”
Louis glared at the five bulging Tesco bags of laundry, the box of presents and the heap of shoes and coats that would take three trips on their own and sighed deeply, “You’re right. Sorry environment.”
After lunch, Harry drove them over to Louis’ bungalow as promised. It was slow going as the ploughed section was still treacherous with ice. Louis’ house was a bit fusty inside and very cold, having been unoccupied since Christmas Eve with no timed heating. While Louis turned the thermostat up high and started sorted out his washing, Harry decided to clear out the fridge, throwing away anything that had gone off or was about to. Louis had thrown out quite a few things before leaving but there were a few things he’d overestimated the longitude of. He nearly screamed, for example, when he saw what was in the breadbin and, after disposing of the living form inside, he disinfected the container until the paint was nearly peeling off.
It was just after five that the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Harry shouted from where he was now lounging on the sofa, folding up the first load of clean clothes - hot from the tumble dryer.
“Thanks!” Louis called back from the kitchen. “TeIl them I’ll be there in just a sec.”
Harry jogged out to the hallway and snatched up the receiver. “Hello? Louis Tomlinson’s residence.”
“Put Louis on the line please,” a gruff voice greeted, which Harry faintly recognised.
“Sure, who’s calling?”
“Just put him on the line.”
Harry blinked at the rudeness but dutifully held out the phone as Louis approached. He shrugged as Louis mouthed who is it?
“Hello?” Louis greeted. There was a muffled reply and then Louis tensed up. Harry knew immediately. It was confirmed a few seconds later as Louis growled. “What do you want Stephen?” More muffled talk, which Harry strained to make out. He needn’t have bothered as Louis’ next angry reply told him everything. “But you said I had until the end of January to decide! No! That’s not fair!” Another pause as Stephen hissed something. “Why the sudden change of heart?” Louis seethed back. “What's the matter? Strapped for cash? It wouldn't surprise me. No. You know what Stephen? I’m not going to play your stupid games. I’ve made a decision. I’m not going to give you half of the house. It isn’t yours. It’s mine.” He looked to Harry for support who quickly nodded with a grin, holding up his thumbs. Stephen needed to be told where to go.
“I don’t care,” said Louis to whatever Stephen’s reply had been. “I’ll take it to court if I have to – prove that you got me to put your name on the lease by deception. After what you did, I think a judge will side with me even if the law isn't quite clear. You’re not getting a penny of this house’s worth and that is final!” Louis’ eyes suddenly narrowed as Stephen spoke again, “Well that’s your choice then. Do not call here again. If you want to contact me then you will do so through a solicitor. I’ll see you in court.” With that he slammed the phone down, breathing hard. Then he staggered and burst into a disbelieved giggle. “Wow. That was weirdly cathartic.”
“Oh my god,” Harry squealed, leaping forward and wrapping him up in a hug, “you totally put him in his place! I’m so proud of you.”
Despite trembling from the adreneline; Louis broke into a wicked smile and hugged him back. "I did, didn't I. Who'd have thought!"
~*~
After Louis had put on a third wash, Harry drove them back to his to drop off the car. They stayed long enough to grab their wallets then the both of them headed over to the Wheatsheaf for dinner, where they would remain until the countdown. Harry learned it was a tradition for the villagers to head to the Wheatsheaf for the bells and he was quite excited to relieve the community spirit again.
By eleven, the pub was absolutely packed with, what seemed, most of the village squeezed into the lounges and beer-garden. It was hard to find room to lift your drink let alone actually get to the bar. Liam and the staff were running themselves ragged filling orders and mopping up spillages. To the lads’ delight, all of Zayn’s family seemed to have come down from the farm and they took up three tables on their own. Zayn’s family were hoot – especially his cousins - Harry, Louis and Niall sat with them, laughing and joking and getting increasingly rowdier with every downed pint. Chatter turned into drunken singing and Harry almost forgot he was on flat juice with how much a buzz the atmosphere gave him.
As midnight approached, Louis looked for his mobile to send a well-wish to Lottie as he’d promised himself the other day. Only his phone wasn’t in his usual pocket. Nor was it in his other one. Harry suggested, with a cheeky wink, that he check his trousers. Louis quickly patted down his empty trouser pockets thinking furiously over where he had had the damned thing last. Then he remembered, “Shit. I had it in the car,” he groaned, “I slipped it into the side pocket after I nearly dropped it when we were dragging the laundry into the bungalow. I bet it’s still in there.”
Harry chuckled and pulled out his car keys, “Here.” He held them out. “Go grab it them.” He knew without asking, how much being able to send his sister a simple 'Happy New Year' text would mean to Louis.
“Thanks,” said Louis, taking them and pecking Harry lightly on the lips, “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Better be,” Harry teased, pulling him back in for a moment so Louis could practically taste the Fanta on his breath, “it’s only twenty minutes until the bells and I don’t want to have to kiss Niall instead.” Harry brushed their lips together again.
Laughing and knowing if he didn’t go now Harry would probably try starting in on their proper New Year’s kiss early, Louis backed away, “You better not. He kisses like a washing machine and I would want a full disinfection before I’d dare kiss you again."
Before Harry could start to question just how Louis knew about Niall’s kissing techniques, Louis slipped out the door.
It was bitter cold outside and he tucked his hands into his pockets, shivering. Patches of snow were turning into frozen ice from being trodden down and it crunched under his boots. Despite the chill wind biting at his cheeks, Louis couldn’t help but smile. This New Years was a whole lot different from last year’s. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt this happy and it was all thanks to Harry. His smile widened instinctively and he chuckled aloud at the way his insides warmed up just thinking about the good doctor. Who'd have thought this time last year that Louis would be, not just in a relationship but actually falling in love with the most perfect man in the world. As he reached the end of the road he stepped down off the pavement and started to cross the street, grinning even more. This New Year was going to be a brand new start for him; a chance at proper contentness. Maybe one of his resolutions should be to find a way to repay Harry’s…
Verooom!
Louis’ head snapped up as a car roared to life, startling him. Momentarily distracted, he looked around instinctively just as a squeal of tyres seared his ears as the driver pulled away to fast on the slippery snow for proper traction. It happened in a suspended moment; a blinding rush of headlights, the roar of an engine, the sudden terrifying knowledge of ‘this is it’ and a fleeting meeting of familiar eyes before the crushing impact.
As he lay in the cold, dirty slush, heaving with pain, he wondered if this was his final penance – to lose his happy ending just like Andrew’s parent’s had lost theirs when Louis had let their son die needlessly. Reverend Chambers had often quoted that old adage… an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth… He cracked his eyes open enough so that he could just make out the cross on the church spire between the houses. As he stared, gasping for breath, wishing Harry was with him, he did the one thing he never thought he would; pray.
~*~
Glancing idly at the clock which read five minutes to the bells, Harry shrugged and giggled as Niall regaled a particularly hilarious drunken moment. Suddenly the pub door flew open. Harry paid it no mind though until he caught his name being shouted over the increasingly quietening conversations.
“Dr Styles! Dr Styles! Where is he?! Dr Styles!”
Harry stood up, inwardly groaning that he should have an emergency right at the bells. “I’m here,” he called out.
A young lad pushed his way through the crowd. It was Leon, one of the teens from the choir he’d treated for glandular fever a few months ago. One look at Leon’s face and he knew something was very wrong.
“It’s Mr Tomlinson from the school, sir!” Leon shouted in a panicked voice, pointing at the door. “He’s been knocked over! You have to come quick!”
Harry felt the blood drain from his face as his glass dropped to the floor.
~*~
“Louis? Louis!” Harry cried desperately as he skidded to his knees on the frozen ground. Louis’ face was porcelain white and there was blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. In horror, he tore off his jacket and flung it over Louis’ prone form before pushing a balled up scarf under his head to protect him from the ground. “Christ, there’s so much blood.” He groaned. “Zayn!” He thrust his emergency phone at his friend, who had just reached his side, panic stricken. “Press quick dial 1 and ask dispatch for an ambulance immediately. I don't care if they have to send an air ambulance, they just need to get someone here now. And tell them to bring blood just in case. Niall," he turned to Niall who had just caught up, "go and get my emergency kit from the car.” As soon as Niall had caught the keys, he turned back to Louis. “Lou? Lou, love, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”
Louis’ eyes fluttered and for a moment they cracked open enough for Harry to catch a flash of blue in the streetlight. Louis let out a shuddering groan of pain.
“Hi sweetheart,” Harry cooed, in relief.
Louis’ hand twitched as though to grasp him but Harry pressed it back down to his side, “No no, stay still, you’re alright. It’s going to be alright. I'm here now. Can you tell me where it hurts?”
Louis tried to mouth something but it was too faint. "Sorry, can you repeat that, Lou?" Harry put his ear right down to Louis' mouth.
Cool breath tickled his ear, "uv oo."
Harry's stomach somersaulted and his breath caught in his throat. "Love you too sweetheart," he replied softly, kissing Louis' damp forehead.
Louis’ eyelids fluttered again and then slipped shut. “No no, Lou, open your eyes," Harry demanded, panickedly, "focus on me.”
Above them the church clock began to chime it's hourly introduction. It was almost time for the New Year. Harry desperately cupped Louis’ cheek, tapping it gently with his fingers, “Louis love, come on. Open you eyes. Focus on me.”
Louis didn’t move. Above them the church clock clanged the first bell. “Louis!” Harry hissed, doing a cursory survey of his injuries. "Come on, Stay with me here."
The second bell rang out.
Then the third.
“Louis!” Harry ducked down and listened for breath. It was barely there.
Fourth bell.
Fifth
"Where is Niall! I need that kit now!"
Sixth
Seventh
“Louis please. Stay with me. This wasn't the mouth to mouth you promised me.”
Eighth
"Lou. Please open your eyes. I need you stay awake."
Ninth
Tenth
“I love you, don't let go now. This is meant to be your happy ending” Harry whispered, tears running down his cheeks as Louis’ hand fell limply to the ground.
Above them, the first fireworks started to explode. All Harry could hear though was the sound of his own hitching sobs.
Author's Note: Um... Happy New Year? I'll uh... just be hiding over there behind the ten inch thick steel fence if anyone wants me. *runs*